#i actually wrote a final paper about it in college

[blindmanbaldwin]

There's nothing I can recognize; this is nowhere that I've known. With no sign of life at all, I guess that I'm alone, And I feel so secure that I know this can't be real but I feel good. Cuckoo cocoon have I come to, too soon for you?

“Cuckoo Cocoon” - Genesis

[porcupine-girl]

An important message to college students: Why you shouldn't use ChatGPT or other "AI" to write papers.

Here's the thing: Unlike plagiarism, where I can always find the exact source a student used, it's difficult to impossible to prove that a student used ChatGPT to write their paper. Which means I have to grade it as though the student wrote it.

So if your professor can't prove it, why shouldn't you use it?

Well, first off, it doesn't write good papers. Grading them as if the student did write it themself, so far I've given GPT-enhanced papers two Ds and an F.

If you're unlucky enough to get a professor like me, they've designed their assignments to be hard to plagiarize, which means they'll also be hard to get "AI" to write well. To get a good paper out of ChatGPT for my class, you'd have to write a prompt that's so long, with so many specifics, that you might as well just write the paper yourself.

ChatGPT absolutely loves to make broad, vague statements about, for example, what topics a book covers. Sadly for my students, I ask for specific examples from the book, and it's not so good at that. Nor is it good at explaining exactly why that example is connected to a concept from class. To get a good paper out of it, you'd have to have already identified the concepts you want to discuss and the relevant examples, and quite honestly if you can do that it'll be easier to write your own paper than to coax ChatGPT to write a decent paper.

The second reason you shouldn't do it?

IT WILL PUT YOUR PROFESSOR IN A REALLY FUCKING BAD MOOD. WHEN I'M IN A BAD MOOD I AM NOT GOING TO BE GENEROUS WITH MY GRADING.

I can't prove it's written by ChatGPT, but I can tell. It does not write like a college freshman. It writes like a professional copywriter churning out articles for a content farm. And much like a large language model, the more papers written by it I see, the better I get at identifying it, because it turns out there are certain phrases it really, really likes using.

Once I think you're using ChatGPT I will be extremely annoyed while I grade your paper. I will grade it as if you wrote it, but I will not grade it generously. I will not give you the benefit of the doubt if I'm not sure whether you understood a concept or not. I will not squint and try to understand how you thought two things are connected that I do not think are connected.

Moreover, I will continue to not feel generous when calculating your final grade for the class. Usually, if someone has been coming to class regularly all semester, turned things in on time, etc, then I might be willing to give them a tiny bit of help - round a 79.3% up to a B-, say. If you get a 79.3%, you will get your C+ and you'd better be thankful for it, because if you try to complain or claim you weren't using AI, I'll be letting the college's academic disciplinary committee decide what grade you should get.

Eventually my school will probably write actual guidelines for me to follow when I suspect use of AI, but for now, it's the wild west and it is in your best interest to avoid a showdown with me.

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Gwi-Nam (1/4)

Word Count: 3.9k

I remembered that I actually wrote this whole thing for fun several months ago. Might as well use this for an easy peasy ease back into society.

R stared at the email on her phone, her brain scrambling to make sense of the Korean typo in the email. Although she stood in the main hallway, gathering many stares from the native Korean high school students, the posted signs were not the most helpful.

She took in her surroundings once again, adjusting her old and well-loved frog backpack, loaded with stationery. The hoard of students desperate to make it to class on time sometimes collided, and R was astounded at the sheer student population of the public high school. Unlike from her home country, the high school seemed well-funded and quite modern, even compared to the college she was actively attending at home — which had given her this opportunity abroad. The atmosphere made R somewhat anxious.

R sighed, deciding the best course of action — after a few failed attempts of grabbing a frantic student’s attention — was to go to the right and follow past the principal’s office. R’s entire goal was to find the teacher’s lounge. And although one might think to ask the principal, she was terrified of making a poor first impression. 

The hallway had grown vacant and silent, only the sound of her footsteps echoing. She noticed her tattoo cover-up sleeves were scrunching slightly, and while walking, looked down to adjust it.

She suddenly heard loud, quick footsteps come from behind. Just as she went to glance over her shoulder, a hard shoulder smashed into her back and knocked R forward onto the ground. She scraped her knees, which created instant panic. As she scrambled to sit and inspect her knee, there was a cruel snicker.

R scowled, recognizing the tear in her leg sleeve. Luckily, R was always analy OCD and overprepared, and knew she could clip it with a pin and hide it under her knee-length black skirt. 

Two shoes stopped in front of her. R looked up, unamused. A student who looked far more mature than his peers by a few years toward her with black banks and a Korean-styled mullet. As she was still adjusting from her native tongue to Korean, his words did not register at first.

R’s scowl disappeared as she intently focused on the words.

“Since when does our school let in foreign [unknown]?” he sneered.

R blinked, only assuming it was foul language spitting from his mouth, and rolled her eyes. “You are making a bad first impression on a new teacher.” She intentionally left out the assistant.

She watched as his breath and stance stiffened. “Shit.” He glanced her over, a slight smirk growing. “The school must be desperate if they took in a foreign [whore] with fake hair and tattoos.”

R’s eyes widened and her cheeks darkened, pulling the dark brown wig over her head to hide her brightly dyed hair. She finally brushed herself off and pinned the sleeves together. R returned to her feet, only then recognizing the slight burn in her knees.

“Listen, kid. How about you mind your business and I’ll mind mine? I can already tell you’re an asshole, so I’d recommend you get to your class before I bring you with me to the principal’s office for harassment.”

The student sneered and crossed his arms. There was a momentary tense staredown before he seemed to loosen up, clicking his tongue and walking off — but not without snatching one of her decorative to-do list papers. R sighed, not caring enough to pursue her to-do list. She already seemed fairly unprofessional with her frog backpack, so a pink sticky note with Hello Kitty on it was better off left out of sight.

Despite the aggravating experience, R continued on her way, plastering a smile on her face. Eventually, she found the teacher’s office empty. However, a teacher named Ms. Park had left a name on the door with R’s name and the classroom number. R sighed with relief, heading off to the classroom.

R burst through the classroom door. Ms. Park had been speaking, but all went silent except for the muttering of students. R was nervous, but as time passed, the classroom became as familiar as any other.

~~~

R blasted her somewhat generic pop playlist since the old songs from the 2000s never grew old to her. She was chowing down on her boxed lunch, which was cutely styled like everything else: a Hello Kitty lunchbox, as she succumbed to capitalistic desires of that brand easily. 

The concrete, half-built foundation was where she went during the lunch period to get some peace and quiet. During the semester, construction had been placed to a halt except for weekends, as there were frequent noise complaints from school staff and students. To R, it was her perfect hide-away location from prying eyes.

As she finished up her homemade kimbap — an accomplishment R was proud of — Shake It Off began echoing from her phone. R grinned, and she stood up. She sang poorly, but sang with it regardless, even incorporating some equally poor dance moves during the chorus.

R halted mid-song as her stomach had a sharp, sudden pain, hissing loudly and grasping her stomach. She cursed under her breath.

“Eh? How unathletic are you? How embarrassing.”

R gasped in fright, swerving to face the onlooker. She sighed out of relief, recognizing the infamous rule-breaker from her classroom (although he rarely attended class). R had a neutral opinion of the boy, as he was notoriously the “bully’s gopher,” but hadn’t ratted her out or spread any rumors about her unprofessional underbelly. 

“At least I’m more athletic than the gym instructor,” R shot back, noticing that the stomach pain had left.

Gwi-nam’s eyebrows raised, adorning a cheeky grin. He often put up an air of unapproachability, but due to R’s semi-authority, it seemed he neither cared to intimidate nor to fake manners. 

“You could get fired for saying something like that.”

“I could get fired for a lot of things, kid.”

R went over and sat back on the cement steps, furrowing through her lunchbox and sipping on an internationally imported Capri Sun. Gwi-nam leaned on the crudely placed metal rails, leering over the woman. He eyed the package curiously, as well as the rest of the cutified objects.

“I’m amazed someone like you got transferred here,” Gwi-nam scoffed. “There’s nothing professional about you.”

“My college GPA, past internships, letters of recommendation, and my polyglot status say otherwise. Besides, Ms. Park says I bring a modern level of cultural diversity.”

“God, you’re full of yourself.”

“So what?” R chortled, slurping up the rest of her juice. “I deserve to be a little self-confident. I worked hard to get here.”

Gwi-nam rolled his eyes. “Whatever. What the hell are doing out here anyway? I bet you’re too weird to make any friends.”

“Not at all. I just like to eat alone,” R insisted. “Why are you here, kid? Don’t you have anywhere else to be or lunch to be eating?”

“I don’t have friends. Just people I hang out with.”

“Hm. Well, how about some bribery to get you back with your people? Here’s a chocolate bar.”

~~~

R handed the student sitting next to her a tiny container of cut canteloupe and some chopsticks. “At this rate, you owe me an entire hot pot.”

Gwi-nam snatched the bowl, immediately digging in hungrily. “No way,” he grumbled with a full mouth. “That would count as taking advantage of a student. Besides, with how fat you’ve gotten, you obviously have some food to spare.”

R clicked her tongue angrily, swatting Gwi-nam’s neck. “How dare you comment on a woman’s wait like that. With those manners, it’s no wonder why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

The comment made her feel somewhat insecure regardless. Gwi-nam wasn’t wrong. R had been wearing baggier shirts recently, as no matter how much she exercised or ate healthily, it hardly impacted the small stomach bump she had developed in the last two months. The only explanation was that it was from poor sleep, stress, and overworking. 

“I’m too busy for that.”

“Too busy because you��re beating up some helpless classmate, right? Don’t think I don’t notice when your knuckles are all messed up. You’re called the bully’s gopher for a reason.”

“You fucking bitch,” Gwi-nam sneered,“ don’t call me that. Just because you know a fucking language doesn’t mean I won’t kill you.”

R sent a glare before snatching back the cantaloupe from him. “God, you’re rude and sensitive.”

“As if. Now give me my food back.”

She rolled her eyes. She very much assumed he had home problems and had taken some level of pity on him since the boy showed up in the building every day since their first encounter and had neither friends nor food. But after enduring an all-nighter, she didn’t feel like putting up with his foul attitude.

R shoved her food back into the lunchbox and stood up. As she did so, Gwi-nam’s hands latched onto R, causing her to almost trip. Gwi-nam shouted in irritation, but the sensation of standing had made R feel dizzy enough not to notice. Black dots clouded her vision and she stumbled forward slightly.

“Hey!” Gwi-nam exclaimed, grabbing and pulling her back to the step. 

R sat, and it felt as though her stomach vibrated with agony. She let out a hiss of pain and laid back, the lunchbox long forgotten. R gasped and rubbed her stomach, feeling a sudden leaking sensation. It was as though her stomach was hollowing out.

“What’s wrong?” Gwi-nam huffed, aiding in lowering her slowly onto the steps. 

“I… I don’t know — I feel…”

“What the fuck —!”

R was confused, focusing on nothing but the sharp cramps. But as Gwi-nam scampered away, R twisted her head up to see what he was looking at. R screeched as she noticed a waterfall of bloody blobs leaking from her white skirt. R reached for her phone but barely felt the ability to move from the cramps. It was as though her period was on blast.

“Call a fucking ambulance!” R shrieked, to which Gwi-nam clumsily withdrew up from his pocket. 

He called 119, but nothing other than confusion was displayed in his expression. R heard the muffled voice of an operator, to which Gwi-nam stuttered in reply,“ I - I need an ambulance at the front gate of Hyosan High.” Another few seconds passed before Gwi-nam spat out a few stuttered descriptions of the emergency. 

He pocketed the phone before grabbing R’s arms and tugging her up. R grunted, a few tears sliding down her cheek. When R’s legs gave out, Gwi-nam scoffed in annoyance and scooped her up, trying to disregard the blood that stained his jacket.

R grasped onto him for dear life, stuttering,“ What are you doing?”

“What does it look like, stupid?”

A few minutes later, Gwi-nam arrived at the front gate at the knick of time. He flinched at how loud the sirens were as the ambulance pulled up. Nurses rolled out and helped get R into the back, with Gwi-nam deciding to get in the back.

~~~

“Ms. R, it appears you had an intense miscarriage,” the doctor informed the woman, staring at the clipboard. “You were being too hard on yourself during the pregnancy.”

R paled and shivered. “I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know you were pregnant?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry then. However, you should be able to head home now. Your boyfriend is waiting outside.”

“He’s not my…” R mumbled, watching the doctor walk off. 

The nurses helped R to her feet. She was thoroughly cleaned, adorning nothing but the white robe. However, with the state of her old clothing, they had been discarded with instructions to head straight home and change. R slipped on her shoes and shuffled weakly to the open doorway.

His head bobbed sleepily, Gwi-nam was sitting by the door. R wiped away her tears and softly shook his shoulder. R was surprised he had waited, as by the time everything was okayed, the sun had set. Ms. Park had called at some point, but R would deal with the repercussions of a missed afternoon session and after-school office hours when she got home.

“Gwi-nam,” R called.

His head shot up and a snort escaped. His eyes were wide and his brow furrowed. He rose, immediately eyeing her up and down. “What happened? The sons of bitches wouldn’t let me go in to see you.”

R chuckled, insecurely grasping at her stomach. “It was… just a stomach ulcer that got stuck. They had to get rid of it, that is all. I’m alright.”

Gwi-nam’s shoulders instantly relaxed. “Eh? All that blood for an ulcer?”

“It’s been growing for two months now.” R glanced around. “You should head home now. Let me get you something from the vending machine. It’s not much, but —“

“You were the one in the hospital,” he gruffly mumbled. “Besides, you were the one who said I owed you a hot pot.”

“Nonsense. Your parents are probably waiting for you.”

He snorted obnoxiously. “No, they’re not. So, let’s go.”

Gwi-nam grabbed her arm and started dragging her down the hall to the exit. R protested but with his tight, unrelinquishing hold, she gave in and joined him at a nearby convenience store. After some fuss between them, Gwi-nam was able to take what she grabbed and pay for the food together. R was as grateful as she was surprised by the student’s kindness.

When they sat at the window, R inquired quietly,“ Are you sure your parents aren’t waiting for you?”

“As if. My dad’s probably off at work while my mom’s fucking her new boyfriend in a hotel.” R frowned, to which Gwi-nam snapped,“ Hey, don’t fucking look at me like that. I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” she replied. “I’m upset. You deserve better people in your life.”

Gwi-nam tried not to show that the comment had taken him aback, covering it up with a glare and a scoff. However, despite his best cover-up, R noticed how blood rushed to his cheeks. R sent him a sweet smile, unaware of just how impacted Gwi-nam was.

~~~

The door to the classroom slid open loudly, and without looking, R stated,” It’s not like you to be so early for our sessions, Cheong-san.”

When R received no reply, she looked up. She was taken aback to find Gwi-nam standing at the entrance, harboring an unsure and anxious expression with his backpack shouldered. R tilted her head and sent a smile.

“Gwi-nam, come sit. How can I help you?”

“I need help with English, obviously.”

R chuckled as the man plopped into the seat next to hers, backpack on the floor. “I assumed. I was more so asking what you need help with for English.”

“Oh. Uh, with… the homework.”

R found it endearing how nervous he was, glancing constantly at the door. She knew he would rather be caught dead than at a study session, but was incredibly proud of his courage. Gwi-nam pulled out the paper. The class was assigned various Robert Frost poems to decipher. Gwi-nam had been assigned to Stopping by Woods. And instead of just using a translator, Gwi-nam came to R.

“Do you need help with the grammar functions?” R inquired.

Gwi-nam nodded, grabbing a pen. R began explaining the concepts and switching words to make the sentences more comprehensible to a foreign speaker. Gwi-nam was surprisingly attentive until a ding came from R’s phone.

R glanced briefly at the notification, noticing the time. “Ah. I have a scheduled student appointment in a few minutes, so I have to cut this short. Can I pen you in for next Monday?”

“Eh? Why?”

“So that you can come again. If you do, I’ll even bring you a snack. How does three-thirty sound?”

Gwi-nam shoved his notes back in begrudgingly. “Whatever,” he muttered, not meeting R’s eyes.

“Great! See you then. Get home safe, Gwi-nam.”

He didn’t reply, quickly shuffling into the hallway. R’s heart warmed, and a part of her felt somewhat proud that she was making an impact on her student’s life to some capacity.

~~~

R awoke with a gasp, clasping at her bedsheets. It took not a moment after for her alarm to go blaring in her ears. She immediately shut it off and focused on regaining her breath. 

Everything was going well in Korea. Work, friends, lifestyle, school (as exhausting as it was to be doing college at the same time as her transfer abroad) — all except the overlying issue.

R had managed to attract a stalker. 

It started small, and she was convinced it was a student of hers. She constantly felt watched when nobody was around. Things would go missing from her bag or desk. Then one day, while she was in the office on her own, she glanced over and saw a shadowed figure staring through a crack in the door.

That’s when things seemed to escalate, especially the paranoia. She became more organized with her things and knew when things would disappear. She carried a safety weapon at all times. Sometimes, when a hooded man followed her for a stretch, she’d break for a run.

And then things escalated again — one day, the hooded man ran, too.

That was when, after calling Ms. Park in distress, they went to the police together. R knew that Korea tended not to take cases like her’s seriously, and it’s not as though she knew how to talk to a police officer that well.

With thorough convincing from Ms. Park, they kept an eye on the neighborhood R lived in from time to time. But that hardly seemed to do any good, because that was when R noticed that hooded man outside her apartment building. And then outside her apartment.

R invested in every home safety feature. Door cameras, motion-detecting lights, and a silent break-in alarm if it came to it.

She was terrified and was considering moving, to say the least. Calling the police was a lost cause since they “couldn’t do anything with the footage” and “a crime hadn’t happened yet.”

So R lived in fear. The stalker had even invaded her nightmares.

When R grabbed her phone, she noticed that one of her bear-shaped sticky notes was beside the phone. She went through her notifications before she roused herself. And only then did she notice the content of the sticky note.

Written in messy, almost intelligible Korean, was written ‘The cops can’t do shit.’

R shrieked. She noticed her underwear drawer was ajar. She noticed that her lights had been unscrewed. And the silent alarm hadn’t been triggered. R was a mess getting ready for work, taking photos of the various evidence. And although she tried to compose herself on the subway, she was still a wreck when she got to campus.

As she walked past the school gates, she gasped when a fist punched her shoulder suddenly. R veered her body toward the culprit, recognizing Gwi-nam immediately. He wore a casual expression.

“Gwi-nam,” R stated, recovering from her shock – and momentarily forgetting her troubles.

The student clicked his tongue, motioning to his head. “Your hair is falling off, teacher.”

“Ah!” R, embarrassed, readjusted the wig furiously. “Better?”

His nostrils flared and he eyed her up and down. He nodded.

“Thank you. I hope to see you in class later.”

R walked away, feeling her student’s eyes follow her intensely.

Only then did the panic come back. She was in a rush, greeting students only briefly until she arrived at the teacher’s office. R wrapped her arms around Ms. Park from behind, who jolted in shock.

“R!” she exclaimed. 

“Help.”

R released her and handed the now attentive Ms. Park her phone. The woman scrolled through the photos, growing paler by the second. She handed the phone back.

“You can’t stay there anymore.”

“I know that — but my landlord won’t accept it as a reason to break the lease. My credit score will be destroyed.”

“Fuck the credit score!” Other teachers glared, causing Ms. Park to clear her throat and compose herself. “You have to move out today. I’ll help you after class.”

“My assignment will be late.”

“R. This is not up for negotiation. So stop worrying and let’s leave this for after school.”

She nodded, blinking away the blurred tears. She sat at her desk, rummaging through her items quickly. Ms. Park nudged her, a twinkle in her eye.

“You know, you’re out here doing miracle work for our students. I was checking class B’s overall grades, and I found that On-jo has gone from a D+ to a B-. And even better, Gwi-nam somehow went from failing to a B+. I’m sure you’ll get a bonus from the principal for all your hard work at the end of the school year.”

R smiled, some of her uneasiness lifting off her shoulders from the news.

~~~

Much to R’s dismay, it quickly became apparent that R had forgotten to pack a lunch. She had grabbed her lunch box, but the contents were nonexistent. Thus, R knew she’d have to head down to the cafeteria vending machine grab some carbohydrate-filled junk, and break the bad news to Gwi-nam.

On her way, she noticed Gwi-nam leaning on a wall on his phone. R hummed, approaching. Gwi-nam immediately noticed, eyes glued to her figure. R paused in front of him, fumbling with her fingers.

“Well, Gwi-nam, I… woke up late this morning, so I didn’t pack a lunch. Do you have money for the vending machine?”

“Eh? Late? How unprofessional.”

R rolled her eyes. I’ll take that as a yes. Just make sure you eat.” R spun to head over to the cafeteria before pausing. “Oh, one more thing. I’m proud of you and the progress you’ve made in class, Gwi-nam. I hope you know that.”

She walked over to the cafeteria, not noticing how the student gulped and his cheeks grew red, unable to tear his gaze away from the woman.

The cafeteria was crowded and R struggled to evade students. She replied to greetings from students and eventually made it to the vending machine. R checked her phone as a goofy lunch wrap slowly unraveled. Alas, the lunch period was already fifteen minutes through.

The wrap was nearly loose, sliding down the front. It did so slowly, and R nearly screamed when she realized it was about to stop moving.

R had had a bad enough day and kicked the machine. Just like that, the wrap plopped down. As R grabbed it, the noise level in the cafeteria skyrocketed. R swerved to observe the commotion and was unprepared for what she saw. A hoard of students were flying through the glass entrance, until students suddenly slammed it shut, locking out a small group. Screams echoed, and despite the unknowing threat, R dashed toward the entrance, shoving her wrap into her skirt pocket.

And that was when another hoard approached. Students covered in blood ran at the group, and although they tried to run, the students caught them. Blood spewed against the glass, and R shrieked. Although R was frozen in place, everyone around her was running amock in panic from the sudden brutal attack. 

R stood just on the other side of the pane, not far from the front door. Students ran, and then so did the blood-covered students. The doors went crashing open, and R’s life flashed before her eyes as a student she immediately recognized pounced at her.

[happy74827]

hey are requests open…. If so can I have Dom Matthew Patel x Sub female reader (lime)

Study Buddy

[Matthew Patel x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Things get a little heated after Matthew admits his feelings to you.

WC: 1831

Category: Spice/Lime, Fluff

Matthew as a Dom? Lmfao that’s a new one (personally he gives me total Sub vibes 🤷‍♀️), but a request is a request. Hopefully I wrote it to where you like it :)

『••✎••』

Matthew Patel. A nerd with an affinity for magic. The kind of guy you would see at your local comic book store or performing “One Day More” from Les Mis in an empty movie theatre.

He was also your best friend's ex-boyfriend. He was also currently on top of you.

The two of you were in your dorm room, and you had been studying. It was exam week at college, and you were cramming for your finals when you heard the familiar sound of someone opening your door. You were on the ground, papers, and books splayed out around you. Matthew stood, hands in his pockets.

His mouth hung open slightly as he took a deep breath.

"You're so..." He paused. "I mean, you look so..." He trailed off. You cocked an eyebrow.

"Matty… are you musical theatre-ing me right now? Because if so, I really need to study-"

"No! No, just listen." He said, sitting next to you. You could tell he was nervous, fiddling with his sleeves. "You're beautiful, you're smart, and you're my friend.”

“Uh… huh? Thanks, I guess, but where are you going with this exactly-?" You asked, trying to return to your work. He cut you off, standing.

"Ramona and I never worked out, and that's because she didn't like me. I get it, but you... You actually care about me and... and... I really… I like you a lot and... And... Can you not do that?!"

You stopped writing, looking up at him. You were surprised to see his face was red and that he was sweating slightly.

"Can I not what?"

"You're doing it! The thing! With your eyebrows! It's distracting me!"

"Matthew, calm down." You said, setting down your pencil and standing up. He was about parallel with you, height-wise. Not bad, considering he was a year older.

"No! This is a big deal! This is serious! I want... I want to ask you something."

You looked him in the eyes, confused.

"What is it, Matty?" You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked away.

"Will you... Go out with me?"

There was a long pause as you processed what had just happened.

"Matthew..." You said, and he visibly cringed.

"I knew it; I knew I was being too forward. I just-"

You cut him off with a hug, burying your face in his chest.

"You're really sweaty; did you know that?" You mumbled, and you felt him laugh. He returned your hug, pulling you in. “And to be honest, you do actually look like a major pirate in this lighting."

"Uh,” His face fell. "Thanks?"

"But, I happen to have a type, you see. Sweaty pirates with magic powers who quote musicals. And I'm pretty sure that describes you perfectly." You said, smiling as you felt his heartbeat pick up. He let out a soft sigh, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"That's... That's a relief."

The two of you stayed there for a moment before he cleared his throat and gently placed a hand on your cheek, making you look at him.

"So, uh, I haven’t done this in a while.”

“You mean since that week in seventh grade with Ramona?” You asked.

His face turned red. “Ramona told you that?! Oh man, did she tell you about Pilgrim, too, or... Okay, we don’t have to talk about this; let's just..."

He leaned down, and you felt his lips press against yours. It was gentle and sweet, and he pulled away, leaving you wanting more.

"You're such a dork, Matty."

"… A good dork, right?"

"Yeah, a good dork." You smiled, kissing his nose. He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again. For not having kissed someone in a long time, he was pretty good.

His hands slid down to rest on your hips, and your arms draped over his shoulders. Your hands tangled in his hair as his tongue gently pressed against your bottom lip, requesting entry.

You opened your mouth, letting him deepen the kiss. You felt your body being pressed against the wall behind you, and you let out a soft gasp. He took this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, gently rubbing it against yours.

The kiss was messy, tongues and teeth clashing. It wasn’t the most elegant, but it was passionate and full of emotion.

He pulled away, looking down at you. His lips were red and swollen, his hair was messed up, and his face was flushed. You assumed you looked similar.

"… uhm, I think I accidentally set your textbook on fire."

You looked over to where you had been sitting and saw a large pile of ashes where your textbook had been.

"Aw, shit! Matthew, how am I supposed to take finals now?"

"Uhh... I’ll buy you another one. I'm sorry."

You gave him a look, and he looked down in shame. He looked like a sad puppy, and you sighed.

"Don't worry about it. I can just use my computer. And... Well, I wouldn't mind some help studying."

His eyes lit up, and he grinned, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Yeah, I can help. Anything for you, babe."

"Okay, ew, don't call me babe."

"Right, sorry. Honey, Sweetie, Darling, Cutie-"

"Matthew."

"Right. Sorry. Anyway, what was it that you were studying for again?"

You laughed, and the two of you got to work, studying and laughing together. Except, you didn’t study because you were too busy making out. But, that was probably the best studying of all.

The floor became your bed, and it was covered in papers. But you didn’t mind. Because the boy who had previously been known as a nerd with mystic abilities and questionable taste in music was now on top of you, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Matthew didn’t strike you as the type of guy to take charge. In fact, you would have been surprised if he wasn't a virgin. But as he whispered to you, his hands running along your sides, his lips pressing against yours, his body pressed against yours... You could tell he wanted this just as much as you did.

It didn’t take long before you matched his energy, becoming a sweaty, blushing, panting mess. Your hands were under his shirt, running along his torso. His skin was hot, and you were sure your hands were sweaty. But he didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, he seemed to enjoy it if the groan that came from his mouth when your hand brushed across a particularly sensitive area was anything to go by.

Your name rolled off his tongue, and your heart raced as he whispered into your ear again.

"Do that again, please..."

And who were you to refuse such a polite request?

You sat up, and he adjusted his position so that he was kneeling between your legs, your arms around his neck, and your forehead pressed against his.

His coat was discarded, and the two of you were a blushing mess. His breathing was heavy, and so was yours. Your clothes had become disheveled, and your hair was messy.

But that didn’t matter because the way he was looking at you made you feel more beautiful than you ever had before.

"Y-you're amazing." He muttered, his hand on your hip. "I've liked you for so long. And now, we're here. I never thought I would be this close to you, ever. You're amazing."

You blushed, looking down.

"Matthew, you're embarrassing me."

"Sorry, I just... I need to say it: you're... you're so gorgeous."

You blushed harder, burying your face in his neck and taking a deep breath. He smelled like pine and smoke, and his hair tickled your face.

You felt him chuckle, a deep rumble in his chest. His fingers gently stroked your sides, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He then moved his head so his lips were against your ear.

"You wanna hear a secret?"

"Yes, please."

"My favorite musical is The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Not the Disney movie, but the actual play."

You burst out laughing, looking up at him. He smiled, looking proud of himself.

"Oh, god, Matthew, why?"

"What? I like the songs! I sang it back in high school. Granted, I sang it behind the curtains because I was only picked for the ensemble, but I still like it!"

You couldn’t stop the laughter coming from your mouth, and he began to laugh as well. His laugh was more of confusion than anything else, but it was adorable nonetheless.

"God, you're such a nerd."

"Oh, like you aren't a nerd as well! What was it that you were listening to on your laptop the other day? 'Hamilton' or something?"

"Okay, first of all, Hamilton is amazing, and I will not let anyone, not even you, say otherwise."

"Fair enough. But, can we continue now?"

"I mean, you could just sing a song from the Hunchback of Notre Dame for me."

He laughed, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Maybe later." He said, and his lips were back on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. His hands found their way under your shirt, gently running along your sides. He was gentle and sweet and very eager. His touches were light and loving, and it didn't take long for him to become more confident.

Soon, the kisses became rougher and sloppier, his touches more firm. His hips bucked into yours, and you groaned, breaking the kiss. He grinned, doing it again. You let out a shaky breath, gripping his hair.

"Matty..."

"Yeah?"

"Those demon… girls? , the uh... the ones that follow you around. Can they see us? I really don't want them watching."

His head perks up, watching you.

"Uh, not if I don't want them to. They usually stay in my shadow so they can't see. Besides, I've told them that I'm done with the whole vengeance thing. They're chill."

"Oh, okay.”

He kissed your cheek, and his lips were back on yours in a second, kissing you hungrily. His hands roamed your body, and your hands tangled in his hair, pulling slightly.

Yeah, you didn’t study that night. The excitement was too much. Instead, the two of you stayed in each other’s arms for hours, the smell of burning paper surrounding the room.

Excluding the fact that Matthew had burned your textbook and possibly owed you an entire binder full of notes, you had no complaints.

Matthew Patel might be a nerd, a loser, and a total weirdo to some. But to you, he was the sweetest, most loving, and the most wholesome person you had ever met.

And, as he pressed a kiss to your temple and muttered an "I love you," you couldn't help but smile and think that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to the "nerds can get chicks" stereotype.

[psychesalcove]

„ WHEN YOURE ALL ALONE, ILL REACH FOR YOU (when you're fellin' low, i'll be there too)

↳ COLLEGE AU! JASON GRACE X GN! READER ”

requested: yes, from amandamariee

⚠️: reader is a bit of an overachiever, crying, being overwhelmed bc of school work, shitty ass writing (sorry gang) not proofread AT ALL

in which ; jason comforts reader who is overwhelmed by school work due to finals.

a/n: thank you so much for the request babes!! i hope this lives up to your expectations,, i loveee fluff and comfort fics so so much like it's actually scary 😔 ALSO i made the reader have a history major – just in case anyone was wondering :)

finals season was upon the students of new rome. cafes were filled to the brim with students, workbooks, and the sound of typing on laptops (that were specially made for demigods, of course).

you were one of the studnets who found themselves at the cafe more often than you would like to admit. earlier today you were at a popular cafe downtown with annabeth, but, around two hours into your study session, you wanted a change of scenery.

and that's how you found yourself back at the condo you and jason shared.

ᝰ

your wooden desk that you had gotten at ARC had every surface possible filled with studying items. old assignments, papers your professor handed out, your notes, and every color of highlighter imaginable.

your tea (which jason had made for you) was long forgotten on the edge of the desk, close to tipping over onto the carpeted floor of the bedroom. you had been in the same posion on your chair for about an hour and a half, eyes focused on reading an essay you had wrote a couple months ago.

jason would have already had you take a break by now, but he was downtown. you and jason were supposed to meet with the seven for dinner tonight, but you decided to stay home and study more. jason had insisted on staying with you, but with much persistence on your end, he was out the door and on his way downtown.

and of course, when you're studying for the most important test of this year, your dyslexia decided to act up. you had been stuck on the same sentence for about 5 minutes now. the words kept getting jumbled in your mind, floating from place to place on the page. the monster attacks you could deal with; but not being able to read a simple sentence?

you sighed heavily through your nose, setting down your pen onto the desk. this essay should be easy to read; you were the one who wrote it after all. your eyes shifted from the essay to the rest of your desk. you had no idea how you were going to manage getting all of the information you needed for the test in your head.

you reached for your laptop that was under a folder, because you decided that it might be easier to do work digital instead of on paper. you quickly logged into your laptop, and went to google classroom.

your eyes were drawn to the notification icon, seeing that there was one. you clicked it, mouse hovering over the writing that appeared on the screen: a comment from your professor.

y/n, i've seen you do amazing work in my class this year. what happened with this? i know you have more potential than what you wrote. i'll have to give you a D for this one, but it shouldn't affect your grade to much considering you have an A. it'll bring it down to an A- or a B at the most. i'll hope you gain your skill back in further work.

oh.

you quickly changed the screen onto where your grades were shown. there it was. a B. you knew that it wasn't a bad grade or anything, especially remembering when percy showed his grades to you once, but it still didn't sit right with you.

this was your best class, the one you always understood and got at least an 80 or higher on. you've never gotten a D.

tears quickly filled up your eyes, causing you to bink rapidly in an attempt to keep them at bay. you looked at the desk, in hopes of feeling better by now staring at the large B on your screen, but it only made it worse. all the papers and assignments quickly overwhelmed you, seeing how much you still had to do.

how will you even pass this test if you can't write a simple article about an artifact?

with that thought in your head, tears quickly started dripping down your face. a rational part of you told you that a small assignment like that didn't show your worth of the class, but the emotional part of you quickly overtook that thought.

as you sat there, posture rigid and tears freely falling down your face, you were to focused on your own being to register the sound of a door opening and footsteps going down the hall twords the bedroom you were in. you only got out of your head when you felt cold hands rubbing up and down your upper back.

"hey, love, what's wrong?" a voice, that you quickly recognized as jason's, said. you didn't know how to verbally respond, so you coughed hard and brought a hand up to your face to try to remove the tear stains from your face.

jasons hands moved from your back to go over your shoulders, hugging you from behind. "how about we get you into a bed first, hm?" he questioned gently, leaning awkwardly so his face was closer to your ear. after registering what he said, you nodded slightly as you made a move to stand up.

jason aided in getting you up, and then put a hand over your shoulder when the two of you started the short walk to the bed. he let you sit first, and then quickly followed in suit. he sat in front of you, letting you get a clear image of his blonde hair and concerned face.

he grabbed your hands and held onto them lightly, giving you the option to leave his grasp at any point. "love, try to copy my breathing, okay?" he instructed, making eye contact with you. he slowly took a deep breath in through his mouth, waiting for you to follow. once he saw the movement , he slowly exhaled through his nose, again, waiting for to follow his breathing pattern.

this continued until jason deemed you collected enough to talk about whatever made you upset. "want to tell me what got you so worked up, my love?" he asked again, softly smiling at you when you two made eye contact.

you quickly explained your situation in a shaken voice, still getting own crying. his eyebrows knitted in concern as he listen to you, and his thumb started slowly rubbing circles on your knuckles when he noticed your teary eyes.

once you finished speaking, he took you into his arms and held you gently. "how about you take a break. i'll make you tea, and you can eat if you want. then, we'll come back, and i'll help you with whatever you need help with. sound good?" he explained, already making a move to stand up with you.

ᝰ

the two of you quickly found yourself in the kitchen. jason had dimed the lights to emit a soft orange glow from above, and turned on the stove light as he filled the kettle up with water.

"you know, you're amazing at what you do, love." jason said, turning to you as he turned off the sink water after the kettle was filled up. "and, i know that you also know that, somewhere in there," he continued, brining up a finger and pointing at his head. you chucked softly, making jason get a small grin on his face from making you laugh, even if it was only little.

he walked over to the stove and placed the kettle on the stove, turning on the stove top, then moving over to where you sat on the counter. he gently wrapped his arms around your waist bringing you into a gentle embrace. "yknow you could have asked for my help earlier, i would have stayed with you, my love." he said as he rested his head on your shoulder.

"i know, but i wanted you to go out. i didn't want to keep up cooped up in here with me just because i didn't want to have dinner with them." you said as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, bringing you closer to him.

"i never feel 'cooped up' with you, love. and i wouldn't have minded not going, although leo and piper seemd very pressed about you not being there tonight. said they wanted to meet up with you tomorrow to 'add to their gossip'." he said, chuckling lightly at the thought of leo and piper.

you smiled softly as you thought about your friends, knowing how much they meant to you. just then, your stomach growled, notifying both you and jason that you were starving.

"how about we make you some toast? then we can go back and start on some flashcards for you, sound good?" jason asked, pulling away from the embrace and walking over to the pantry, signaling with his hands for you to follow.

[nneogram]

HIT ME UP

[URGENT; 11/23] PALESTINE.

PAIRING. wonwoo x reader (f)

GENRE. fluff, college!au

WORDCOUNT. 1k

WARNINGS. i think there’s one (1) expletive, wonwoo is not good at speaking on the phone

A/N. happy holidays and long time (loooong long time) no see! i can’t believe how quickly time has passed and i don’t know how long i’ll be back (though as always i have multiple works-in-progress rn) but for now enjoy this spur-of-the-moment piece i wrote while avoiding studying for my final that’s today. this is unedited! there could be typos and grammatical errors >.<

LISTEN TO. “hit me up” by omar apollo, dominic fike, & kenny beats.

Wonwoo knew it wasn’t a good idea to mention you to his roommate. Because now all Soonyoung wants to do is force Wonwoo to make the first move, something that A) wouldn’t end well and B) will never happen in the first place. Wonwoo would rather suffer an untimely death than be the one to initiate anything. And that’s saying something considering this final paper he was working on right now felt pretty much like death.

“Just call her. Hit her up and go, ‘I’m in love with you, please go out with me or else I’ll throw myself out the window.’” Soonyoung purposely pitches his voice up an octave.

“One,” Wonwoo types away on his laptop, paying no attention to his meddling roommate, “My voice sounds nothing like that. And two, throwing myself out the window isn’t as grave of a repercussion when you remember we live on the first floor.”

Soonyoung sighs. “Okay, how about starting small? Ask her out to dinner or something. Something simple and easy.”

Wonwoo fakes a laugh. “Bold of you to assume that’s easy. There’s nothing easy about calling the girl you like and asking her on a date.”

“You don’t even have to do the first part. I can call her, and all you have to do is ask her out.”

Soonyoung’s offer gets ignored as Wonwoo continues to stare at the half-empty word document on his laptop screen. Knowing his roommate won’t let up until he acquiesces in some way, Wonwoo absentmindedly agrees, saying something like, “Sure. Do whatever you want.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Wonwoo echoes his roommate and the room descends into silence. Ah, peace and quiet. Something that almost never happens with Soonyoung in the room-

It’s too quiet.

The gravity of the situation doesn’t sink in until he spots Soonyoung a few steps away, Wonwoo’s phone in hand, your contact name pulled up. And Soonyoung’s ring-adorned finger hovering over the “Call” button.

Wonwoo fumbles for the phone, but Soonyoung yanks it out of reach. Wonwoo can only stand in frozen terror as his roommate presses the button for speakerphone and the ringing drones on.

He’s further cemented to his spot when you actually pick up.

“Hello? Wonwoo?” The line crackles as your voice fills the room. Your voice sounds different on the phone - a little deeper, a little more hushed as though this was a private conversation. It was supposed to be a private conversation.

Wonwoo’s stunned silence would have continued if it were not for Soonyoung swatting at his shoulder. Talk to her, his roommate mouths. “Uhm, yeah, hi.” His voice threatens to crack at the end of his sentence, and he clears his throat.

“Hey.” There’s a hint of bemusement in your voice. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. Sorry for the call, I usually don’t do that, -“

“-Yeah, I got a little confused,” you confess with a breathy laugh. “I wasn’t sure if something was wrong, and even if so I would’ve expected a cryptic text first.”

God, he loves your sense of humor. Wonwoo forces a chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. So, uh. What’s up?”

There’s a beat of silence from you. He can hear your amusement when you echo back his question. “‘What’s up?’”

Soonyoung facepalms. But he’s at least brought Wonwoo’s phone down to an attainable level now, so Wonwoo takes the opportunity to retrieve it.

He immediately presses the button to remove you from the speakerphone and brings the phone to his ear. “Sorry, sorry, I got sidetracked. This is why I send my cryptic texts.” Your laugh on the other end affirms Wonwoo in his defusing of the situation, and so he continues. “When did you say you were heading back home again?”

“Saturday afternoon. Why, what’s up?”

Fuck it, here goes nothing. Wonwoo takes a deep breath. “The reason why I was calling you is because I was wondering if you wanted to go grab something to eat before you leave to celebrate the end of finals but if you aren’t able to that’s okay.”

Wonwoo ignores the way Soonyoung is staring him down with an incredulous look on his face. Wonwoo is pretty sure he’s red in the face right now.

Once again, more silence on your end. Wonwoo thinks maybe the call has disconnected (or maybe you were so offended by his proposal that you hung up), and he’s about to bring the phone away from his face to check his screen when you finally respond.

“That’s the most I’ve heard you say in one go.” Once again, you’re laughing, and Wonwoo’s worries dissipate. He’s still nervous, of course, especially considering you haven’t actually answered to his offering yet, but something about your laidback nature really puts him at ease. It almost makes him think that even if you said no, he’d be okay-

“I’d love to grab food with you. Did you want to do Friday night or Saturday morning?”

What.

Wonwoo’s roommate has since crept closer to him, head leaning in on the other side of the phone to listen in on the conversation. Soonyoung is just as shell-shocked as Wonwoo is when you say yes.

“Mm, uh,” Wonwoo clears his throat, “Friday night works for me. I’ll be free from my last final by then.”

“Sick! Me too. I can’t wait to be free from the grips of biochem after Friday afternoon.” There’s rustling on your end, likely you getting up and moving around. “I have to head back to studying right now, but we can text as it gets closer to figure out specifics?”

“Sure. Sounds good.” Wonwoo’s throat has gone dry.

Soonyoung has decided at this point that his job is done, and he walks away from Wonwoo with a fist pumping in the air as though his favorite soccer team just won the World Cup.

Wonwoo returns his full attention to you. He can hear your grin when you say, “Great. Oh, and Wonwoo?”

He expects there to be a caveat, a “but” at the end of your acceptance. “Hm?”

“You should call me more often.”

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 8: "Planting a Seed of Thought"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 6.6k

a/n: I basically wrote this long ass monster today and NEEDED to get it up. So I hope it is edited enough and none of the writing is too awkward. Normally I edit vastly more before I share but I was too excited. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites

Making your way down the dimly lit hallway, your eyes were focused on the door at the far end. 'Nelson & Murdock' was no longer a paper sign taped to the door with their name written in Sharpie, but a proper, professional sign adhered to the glass of it. 

After a lot of hard work and frustration over the past few months, Foggy and Matt’s law firm had really managed to take off. It had all been thanks to the pair of them–along with Karen and apparently the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen–taking down Wilson Fisk. You'd watched for months on the sidelines as they struggled and many times almost lost hope that they'd ever succeed with getting Fisk arrested. You'd even endured the time fairly recently where the firm, and Matt and Foggy’s friendship, had briefly broken up. 

Those few weeks had been a very difficult few weeks for all of you. Even Karen had gradually grown closer to you during that time. And both Foggy and Matt had fallen back on you for support when they didn't have each other. You'd done your best to split your free time between the pair of them, but you'd never gotten a straight answer as to what had happened. All you knew was that it must have been bad if Foggy had been willing to end the friendship you'd watch grow over the years. And all Matt would ever tell you was that it was his fault, whatever it was, and to not be mad at Foggy.

The whole thing had seemed strange to you, especially because Matt had just been in a car accident when everything had happened. Your heart had broken when he’d stopped by to see you shortly after; you hadn’t heard the news ahead of time and it was a shock to see him limp into your apartment. Though something had seemed off about his flippant explanation of what happened, especially considering he’d been sporting bruises and cuts more and more frequently this past year. He’d told you they were because he was blind and clumsy and had gotten into a lot of accidents, but you had a feeling that was bullshit even if you never pushed for answers. Because he’d certainly not had that many accidents at Columbia. 

Yet again it hurt you that it felt like Matt was hiding something from you, something you were sure he’d have told you about back when you’d both been in college. You felt like he was drifting even further away from you. And that hurt.

As you came to a stop in front of the office, you knocked twice lightly on the glass of the door. Karen’s voice called out from behind it instantly, telling you to come in. You opened the door and stepped inside, immediately greeted with Karen’s bright smile from her place behind her desk. 

“Hey! Was wondering when you were going to show up,” Karen greeted you as she set aside a folder on her desk.

“I had to finish a few things up at the office before I could actually get out of there,” you told her, making your way over and sitting down in one of the empty chairs in front of her desk. “My boss loves to chat so I was sort of stuck listening to him ramble on about this problem he’d encountered coding–but I won’t bore you with the details. Needless to say, it took me a moment before I could find a way to slip out of the conversation.”

“Well we’re glad you’re here!”

You turned at the voice, spotting Foggy making his way out of his office. He was fiddling with his tie as he came over towards the pair of you, a smile on his face.

“And I hope you’re prepared to fight with Matt about places for takeout,” Foggy added. 

You laughed, adjusting your purse in your lap. “Fog, I’ve known you guys for a while. I already know how picky Matt is about exactly where we get food from.”

“Well he’s grown pickier since Columbia,” Foggy informed you.

"I'm not picky," Matt countered, appearing in the doorway of his office with a frown. "I just know what I like."

Your head turned in the opposite direction, taking in the sight of Matt leaning against the doorframe of his office. He was in a pair of dark dress slacks, his hands on his hips as he focused on Foggy. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up to just below his elbows, his thick and muscular forearms on display. He’d gotten new glasses recently you noticed–these ones had red lenses. 

"Yeah, that's called picky," Foggy quipped. 

The three of you laughed as a frown crossed Matt’s lips, an irritated huff escaping him. He was clearly not amused. 

"Well I for one am curious to see that billboard at your apartment Foggy told me about," you said, trying to change the subject for him. "I still haven't seen your place and you’ve been there for a bit now."

"Oh, it's obnoxious alright," Karen assured you. When she saw the confused look you gave her she added on, "The billboard, not the apartment."

Something stirred in your chest at her words, a twisting, uncomfortable feeling. Matt was a private person and you knew he didn't let people into his space easily. He’d always been like that. You'd known Foggy had been to his apartment often after Matt had moved out–it was a given considering how close they were–but you hadn't known Karen had been there. Especially when you never had been invited in the almost year since he'd been living there. 

"You've been to Matt's?" Foggy asked, rounding on Karen in surprise.

"Well, yeah," she answered. "Back when you guys took my case? The night the man in the mask saved me?"

You saw Foggy shoot Matt a quick look and you frowned, wondering what that had been about. But then Karen continued on and you weren't expecting what she said next.

"And we uh, did date,” Karen admitted, a blush rising to her cheeks. “Briefly.”

Foggy gasped beside you as your hands tightened on the straps of your purse. Your mouth felt like it had gone dry as you stiffened in the chair. Matt had dated Karen?

“When the hell did that happen?” Foggy exclaimed, his eyes darting back and forth between the pair of them. “How did I not even catch that?”

“It was a little bit ago,” Karen answered.

“For a couple weeks,” Matt added.

Fingernails digging into the faux leather of your purse, you fought the burn of tears in your eyes. He’d dated her? She’d been his friend–and his employee–yet he’d still asked her out? Slept with her? But yet you remained nothing but his friend, one that was steadily drifting away from him?

Would he really give everyone but you a second look?

“Realized we were just better as friends,” Karen said with a shrug.

Her attention landed on you over her desk and you saw the way her blue eyes narrowed curiously at your expression. Her sharp eyes lingered as if she had noticed the change in the way you were acting now since you’d come in. Swallowing hard, you forced a smile back onto your face before you rose from your seat. It was going to be difficult walking back to your place with Karen after this; you found yourself wishing you hadn’t planned that with her this morning. After learning that all you wanted to do was go home and stay there. Maybe cry alone on your couch. You didn’t want to make conversation with Karen right now, and you certainly didn’t want to go to Matt’s and have dinner with everyone. 

What you wanted was to rip your heart out and stop feeling what you felt for Matt once and for all.

“I should probably get back to my place and change if I’m going to be on time later,” you said, voice quivering a bit.

Karen slowly pushed her chair back, rising to her feet and smoothing down her dress. Why did she have to be so beautiful? That only made everything hurt even more right now.

“I’ll come with, like we talked about earlier,” Karen announced.

“Great,” you said stiffly.

You made your way around the chair, your eyes avoiding Matt and Foggy. You knew Foggy was just standing there giving you his usual sympathetic look after the news Karen had just dropped. You really didn’t need to see that look on his face right now. 

“I’ll see you guys later,” you said, eyes focusing on your feet.

You heard Karen’s heels clicking along after you on the floor, both of you making your way towards the exit as Karen said her goodbyes. But the pair of you stopped when Matt spoke up, saying your name. You froze at his voice, your head swiveling nervously towards him. He was still leaning against the doorframe to his office, his brows furrowed behind his dark glasses. His arms were crossed over his chest now as he focused on you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Swallowing hard, you wondered how the hell he’d even noticed something was off. It’s not like he could see the look on your face like Karen had. Once again you forced the strained smile back onto your lips as you looked back at him, hoping the smile would somehow show through in your voice.

“Yeah, I just had a rough day at work,” you lied.

Matt’s head tilted to the side at your words, his lips drawing into a thin line. Somehow his brows had dropped even lower behind his glasses, a deep crease forming on his forehead.

“I’ll see you later though, Matty,” you said in a rush.

Picking up your pace, you ducked your head and darted out of the office. Karen sped up behind you in a hurry to catch up.

The walk back to your place with Karen had been interesting to say the least. You’d practically power-walked the entire way back while she struggled to keep up with you. Every time she asked if you were okay, you only increased your pace. You didn’t want to talk about this with her because you swore she’d seen the look on your face back at the office and had already pieced things together. But when you’d finally gotten to your apartment and she’d followed you inside, you knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid her prying questions. 

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” Karen asked as she closed the door behind herself.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you slipped your dress flats off and set them on your shoe rack. You turned, making your way towards your bedroom as Karen followed after you.

“I just was in a hurry to get back and get changed,” you told her. “Didn’t want to get slowed by the usual evening foot traffic.”

You made your way over to your dresser, pulling a drawer open and grabbing out a pair of jeans. Karen stepped into your bedroom, crossing her arms over her chest and shooting you a pointed stare. 

“Okay, let’s say I believe that bullshit,” Karen replied bluntly. “What was with that look back at the office?”

“What look?” you asked, feigning ignorance.

You tossed your jeans onto your bed and then made your way towards your closet, sliding the door open. Biting your bottom lip, you tried to focus on finding a shirt as Karen stepped further into your bedroom.

“The look back at the office,” she clarified. “When I’d said I’d been to Matt’s and that we’d– Oh .”

Breath catching in your throat, you stared even more intensely at your wardrobe hanging in your closet. She’d certainly figured it out now.

“You like Matt, don’t you?” she asked, her tone abruptly softening.

“We–we’ve been friends for a while, so yeah,” you answered, still refusing to look at her. “Obviously I like him.”

“No,” Karen said.

You heard her briskly closing the distance between the pair of you before you felt her hands reaching out, landing on your shoulders and turning you to face her. Chewing your lip even more nervously, you saw the realization in her wide blue eyes. And then seconds later–there it was. That same fucking look Foggy always gave you. It immediately drew tears to your eyes.

“Stop it, Karen,” you warned her.

“How did I not see it before?” she asked. “You like him. As more than a friend.”

“No,” you replied, your voice cracking on the word as you swiftly shook your head. “No, he’s just my best friend.”

“Oh shit, I didn’t know,” she said quickly. “I wouldn’t have–wouldn’t have gone on those dates with him if I’d known you liked him.”

“I–I don’t like him,” you said weakly.

Karen sent you a sad smile, her hands still gripping your shoulders. You felt a tear slip down your cheek and you abruptly wiped it away with the back of your hand. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Karen replied. “You care about him a lot, don’t you?”

A loud sniffle fell out of you, your eyes dropping down to your bedroom floor. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tried to control the threat of tears. How many times had you already cried over Matt since you met him now?

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’ve…been in love with him for years.”

Karen gasped audibly at your confession, her hands tightening on your shoulders. You sniffed again, blinking rapidly and trying to force the tears back down.

“And he doesn’t know?” she asked.

You shrugged lamely, still refusing to meet her eyes. “Foggy does, but I don’t know about Matt,” you answered. “I’ve never told him, but I’d flirted with him in the beginning. Or at least, I thought I had. I’m not really good at it,” you admitted. “Not with him, at least. But he’s never taken an interest in me. He goes out on so many dates, I’m sure if he actually liked me he’d have asked me out by now. I just–” you paused, fighting hard to keep your voice even, “–just have never been good enough for a second look from him. He’s always wanted everyone but me. And I’m just–just passed over.”

Karen said your name gently, trying hard to catch your eye. Slowly you looked up, meeting her eyes with your own. 

“Maybe he just doesn’t know,” she told you. 

Panic flooded you instantly, your eyes going wide at what you thought she was saying. 

“I’m not going to tell him I’m in love with him!” you exclaimed. “And neither are you! That would kill our friendship in a second!”

“Well, you don’t exactly know that ,” Karen replied. “But okay, if you won’t just tell him, why not try to flirt instead?”

Mouth dropping open, you stared at Karen in complete shock. She wanted you to flirt with Matt? Not only did that sound ridiculous, you didn’t exactly know how to flirt with him. Because if he’d been unaware of your attempts before, he certainly still would be now.

“I can’t flirt, Karen,” you told her. “Not with him. My brain short-circuits if I try. And if he didn’t catch on before–if that’s even remotely the reason–he’s definitely not going to now.”

“I’ll help you flirt!” she said brightly. “He caught on when I flirted with him.”

Your face instantly fell at her words, your heart dropping to your stomach. You didn’t need a reminder of that right now.

Catching on to what she’d just said, her eyes went wide again as she quickly shook her head. “Oh shit, I’m sorry!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t mean it like that. But hey, for the record?” she continued in a rush. “Nothing happened between us. I mean, we kissed like twice but that was it. Nothing more than that, okay? We just didn’t work together. We both realized that.”

“Right,” you mumbled awkwardly.

“Look, he viewed me like a friend for a while, too,” Karen told you. “Until I started more openly flirting with him. Try to compliment him. Maybe touch his arm a few times or something–that’ll certainly catch his attention.”

“Or make him think I’m being absolutely weird,” you said. “I don’t compliment Matt unless we’re having heart to hearts. And I definitely don’t just touch his arm.”

“Well there you go!” she chirped. “He’ll pick up on something then tonight.”

“Wait,” you began, panic flooding you yet again. “You want me to flirt with him tonight ? Where you and Foggy can witness my terrible attempts?”

Karen shrugged a shoulder easily. “I don’t think they’ll be terrible attempts, but why wait? Do you want to risk losing your chance?” she countered.

Shoulders dropping, you realized she had a point. Matt often worked fast with finding a new fling or someone to take on a date. And it’s not like you saw him frequently enough to know you’d have another opportunity soon.

“Fine,” you relented with a sigh. “I’ll try to flirt with him tonight.”

“Great!” Karen replied, a wide smile spreading over her lips. “I’m excited to see how it goes!”

“That makes one of us,” you grumbled, focusing back on your closet.

Karen knocked on Matt’s apartment door as you stood next to her, trying hard to focus on your breathing. You felt like you were going to be sick with the way your nerves were fluttering in your stomach. You didn’t even think you’d be able to eat the meal you’d all be ordering tonight with the way it was churning and twisting. The thought of flirting with Matt had you wanting to turn back around and throw up in the elevator as more and more thoughts raced through your mind.

What if he didn’t catch on at all to what you were doing? Which seemed likely because you were terrible at flirting with him. You didn’t want to get your hopes up that he’d flirt back because you didn’t know what to expect–and you didn’t want to be let down.

Or what if he did catch on but you made him uncomfortable because you were supposed to just be his friend? Would it ruin the friendship entirely? And you’d just lose Matt forever? You didn’t even want to think about that.

But just as nerve wracking–what if he flirted back? Did it mean he liked you, too? What the hell happened after that? Did you ask him out?

By the time Matt finally opened his apartment door, you felt like you were inching closer and closer to a panic attack. It didn’t help that he looked handsome in a dark green tee-shirt and jeans. He’d left his glasses off, too, giving you a full view of his entire face. It had been awhile since you’d seen him without them on since he always wore them in public. And you hadn’t exactly been invited into Matt’s private space in such a long time yourself.

It hurt to remember that, too.

“Hey, Matt!” Karen greeted him brightly. 

“Glad you made it, Karen,” Matt greeted her with a smile.

Trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, you opened your mouth to speak. “Hey, Matty,” you said, wincing at how odd your voice came out.

You saw Matt’s head tilt to the side, the corner of his lip briefly twitching. But then he greeted you with a smile and your name before inviting you both inside. Karen stepped inside first and you followed after her, but as you slipped past Matt where he was holding the door open, your arm almost brushed against his chest and you’d quickly darted away from him before you accidentally touched him, eyes wide and terrified.

Karen had been at the end of the entryway hall and saw the entire awkward moment. She shot you a stern look as Matt closed the door. You swore she mouthed the words ‘stop freaking out’ before you felt Matt bump into you from behind. Jumping in surprise, you nearly flew out of your skin as you backed into the wall. Matt’s head instantly spun towards you, a curious and confused look on his face.

“I’m sorry, didn’t realize you were standing there,” he said.

“No, it uh, it was my fault,” you said awkwardly. “Shouldn’t uh, shouldn’t just be standing in a hallway.”

Matt continued to stare at you for a long moment, his hazel eyes scanning questioningly around your face. Biting your cheek, you shot him a sheepish smile even though you knew he couldn’t see it. 

“Are you sure you’re alright today?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?” you asked quickly.

“You seem…off,” he said slowly.

“Nope, no,” you replied quickly, shaking your head as Karen mouthed something to you behind Matt that you didn’t catch. “I’m definitely not off today, I’m certainly on.”

Even you cringed at how stupid you’d just sounded, watching as Karen’s eyes slowly closed. Flirting with Matt was a horrible idea. This wasn’t going to work out. You should probably stop before you even tried and ended up truly embarrassing yourself.

“Okay,” Matt said slowly, that unsure look on his face. “Well, Fog is already here so if you want to come in, we can figure out what to eat so we can place an order.”

Matt continued his way down the hall and you followed behind him, internally cursing yourself for how awkward you were becoming around him. It's like all those years you'd spent with him at Columbia had disappeared and you'd suddenly become a stupid, bumbling school girl with a crush. 

The moment you entered the living room, you spotted Foggy sitting on one of the chairs facing the leather couch Matt had opposite his coffee table. Foggy’s gaze immediately locked onto you, his eyes going wide when he did. You watched as he slipped his phone out of his pocket, his fingers flying across it rapidly. Brows drawing together in confusion, your focus shifted to the large industrial windows to your right–and then your jaw dropped.

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding about it being obnoxious,” you blurted.

“What?” Matt asked, pausing on his way to the kitchen.

“Sorry–the billboard,” you explained quickly. “The billboard is obnoxious. I wasn’t exactly expecting it to be so…”

“Obnoxious?” Matt supplied, a cheeky grin on his mouth.

You felt yourself flush as your attention shifted to him, cheeks burning partially from embarrassment and partially from how incredibly sexy he looked with that little grin on his mouth. Why couldn't he just become unattractive one of these days to make things easier on you? 

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

In your pocket you felt your phone vibrate, the feel of it catching your attention. Frowning, you glanced down and slipped it out.

“You two want a beer?” Matt asked as he opened his fridge.

“Absolutely!” Karen called out from where she’d settled into the chair beside Foggy’s.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, distracted by the text you’d received.

It was from Foggy, which had further confused you since he was sitting in the room with you. You didn’t understand why he’d texted you until you’d read what was written in the message.

6:37 PM Foggy:  Dude, what are you doing???? You’re being so gd AWKWARD.

Biting your lip, you quickly typed up a response to Foggy and sent it. 

6:38 PM: Karen knows. She told me I should flirt with him tonight. I’m TERRIFIED.

You shot Foggy a meaningful look as you made your way around the couch, aware that he and Karen had conveniently left you the spot where you’d have to sit beside Matt. And as you took your seat, you saw Matt making his way over with two beers in his hands. He handed one off to Karen when she alerted him to where she was sitting on one of the chairs, and you’d been about to acknowledge him until you saw Foggy reading your text and typing up a response again. It wasn’t until Matt turned towards the couch, saying your name in a form of question as he focused on the space just beside you, that you’d realized you’d forgotten to catch his attention.

“Sorry, I'm zoning out,” you apologized, reaching forward to accept the beer from Matt. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he replied.

Matt took a seat next to you, sitting closer to you than you’d anticipated, though you figured it was unintentional. It's not like he could see how close he'd sat. Across the coffee table, Karen raised her brows at you before her eyes darted pointedly over at Matt a few times. Ducking your head, you nervously drew the beer to your lips and downed a few sips. 

What the hell were you even supposed to say? How were you supposed to flirt with him? Especially with her and Foggy watching you like this so closely. They were only making you even more uncomfortable and awkward. You were so close to just aborting the entire plan.

Your phone vibrated on your lap as it received Foggy’s next text, breaking through your nervous thoughts. Matt cleared his throat beside you on the couch almost immediately afterwards, the noise startling you as he shifted beside you. As he moved, he spread his legs further open and his knee almost bumped into yours. Your eyes were glued to that minute distance between both of your legs, wondering how weird it would be if you just brushed your leg against his.

“So, should we figure out dinner before we lose track of time?” Matt asked.

Drawn out of your thoughts, your attention shifted down to your phone. As the three of them began discussing food options, you opened your text from Foggy.

6:43 PM Foggy:  OMG just tell him! Put us both out of our misery already and TELL HIM.

Glancing up from your phone, you caught Foggy’s eye. He sent you a very pointed look and you shook your head quickly. Out of your peripheral, you saw Matt’s head turn just a little in your direction as Karen was listing off options of nearby places that delivered. You panicked at that little movement, feeling almost like Matt knew something was going on.

But that was ridiculous. You were just being paranoid because you were freaking out about the prospect of flirting with him tonight. That was all.

Karen called your name across the room, catching your attention. Eyes darting up, you glanced over at her with brows raised. 

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked. 

She shot you an apologetic smile before she listed off the names of restaurants again. You were becoming increasingly aware of the way Matt was now focused directly on you as you listened to her. His sightless gaze was sending your heart into overdrive as he seemingly just stared at your chest. What the hell was he doing?

“So what sounds good to you?” Karen asked.

“Oh, uh–” 

Movement across from you had you glancing back over at Foggy. For some reason he'd sat forward in his chair, some strange expression crossing his face as he watched Matt closely beside you. He seemed to snap out of it though when he saw you staring. 

"Uh, why don't we just–just do one of the pizza places?" you asked Karen distractedly, brows now furrowing at Foggy. "We all like pizza, right?"

"I'm in," Foggy agreed quickly, nodding his head at Karen.

"I'm good with pizza," Karen said slowly, shooting Foggy a strange look before she focused on Matt. "What about you, Matt?"

You turned, looking at Matt where he sat beside you. His focus was still on your chest, his expression one of intense concentration. Nervous, you felt your palms beginning to sweat, your heart racing as that ever so familiar fight or flight sensation slowly began to kick in. If he didn’t stop doing that soon, you were probably going to bolt out of his apartment and run home. You were already terrified at the prospect of trying to find a way to work in touching his damn arm , you didn’t need him staring at you like that, too. 

“Matt?” Karen asked again.

Matt startled on the couch, his head whipping in the direction of Karen’s voice. 

“Hmm?” he asked her.

“Are you good with pizza?” she repeated.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he answered. “Wherever is fine.”

Lips parting in surprise, you and Foggy instantly met each other’s eyes, the pair of you sharing a look. That was odd for Matt. He would have usually had more to say about food–what pizza place to pick depending on the day of the week, for starters. Which never made any goddamn sense to you or Foggy, but Matt was generally always adamant. His disinterest was…strange.

Karen abruptly rose out of the chair, her focus on her phone. “I’m going to step into the kitchen and order the pizza then,” she announced. “Foggy? You think you could help? I always have trouble with this app.”

Foggy’s head snapped over to Karen, a look of confusion on his face. He opened his mouth to question her, but Karen glanced up from her phone and shot him a purposeful look.

“Right, yeah, I can help,” Foggy said, rising swiftly from his chair. “They uh, they updated their app it’s–it’s a pain even for me to navigate now.”

He laughed, the sound awkward as he followed behind Karen over to the kitchen. That’s when it hit you that they’d intentionally left you alone on the couch. With Matt. Your focus instantly dropped down to your beer, your fingers nervously drumming along the bottle. Now was a good time to try flirting since you didn’t have an audience, but you felt like you’d suddenly lost your grasp on the English language.

“How’s work been?” Matt asked, turning a bit towards you on the couch.

“It’s been alright,” you answered a little shyly. “Busy. Stressful. How’s the law firm doing?”

“Good,” he replied. “Also busy and stressful.”

You looked up at him from beneath your lashes. He was smiling at you and you felt your heart nearly skip a beat at the sight. His head tilted to the side just a bit, the corners of his eyes twitching ever so faintly. 

“How’ve you been doing?” he asked slowly.

Licking your lips nervously, you tried to think of how to turn this into something flirtatious before Karen and Foggy inevitably meandered back to the living room. “I’ve been good, but I–I do miss seeing you and Fog.”

Before you could overthink the gesture and convince yourself not to do it, your right hand darted out and landed on Matt’s shoulder. You felt him instantly tense under the contact and you didn’t know what to make of that. Had you startled him? Did he not like this? Had he realized you were making some sort of move on him and you’d made him uncomfortable?

“I miss spending time with you, too,” he admitted. 

He was still tense beneath your touch and your mind was racing. Did you leave your hand there? Touch him somewhere else? Uproot and move to Mars? 

Why was this so goddamn hard ?

Glancing over to the kitchen, you saw Karen and Foggy staring at you over Karen’s phone. Both of them had wide eyes as they gawked at the pair of you. Karen’s eyes aggressively gestured to Matt. You could practically hear her in your head telling you to compliment him. 

“So how have–have you been?” you asked, your hand still resting on his shoulder. “Seems like you’ve been going to the gym more since Columbia.”

As the words left your mouth, you felt like your soul also left your body. Had you just complimented him on his muscles like that ? That was so incredibly not smooth. That was the furthest thing from a good compliment that you probably could have given him. You wished you could punch yourself in the face when you heard Matt’s amused chuckle in response. Internally you were screaming as your hand immediately recoiled from his shoulder.

“I suppose you could say that,” he answered. “Work has certainly been stressful and I’ve often needed an…outlet.”

“Right, yeah,” you said, shifting on the couch and intentionally sliding a bit away from Matt. “That makes sense.”

His head further canted to the side, the smile on his lips gradually falling away as he focused on you. You drew the beer to your lips, drinking more of it down as you glanced over the back of the couch. Foggy and Karen were staring at you like they’d just witnessed a horrific car accident. You sent them a look that was a clear cry for help as you lowered the beer from your lips. Thankfully they headed back out of the kitchen, saving you from further embarrassing yourself.

“Well the pizza should be about forty-five minutes,” Karen announced as she settled back in the seat.

“Great,” you replied.

The sooner you ate, the sooner you could leave. You did not think you could do this flirting thing much more tonight.

Karen and Foggy had opted to leave when you had announced your departure from Matt’s shortly after finishing dinner. The two of them were clearly desperate to walk part of the way home with you so they could bug you about how the night had gone, which was why you’d been surprised when Foggy had almost immediately locked Karen into a conversation about work as soon as you’d all left Matt’s place. He’d enthusiastically kept up the conversation for a couple of blocks before it had suddenly fizzled out. That’s when the pair of them broke you from your moping thoughts and focused on you.

“What even was that back there?” Foggy asked. “I’ve seen you be vastly more charming than that.”

“Yeah,” you shot back, “with guys that aren’t Matt I can be.”

“And what was that compliment?” Foggy continued. “Were you going to ask him how to get a discounted gym membership next?”

Your cheeks heated at his comment as you threw your hands over your face and groaned. “It was awful, I know!” you whined.

“All you had to do was say ‘Hey Matt, you’re looking real good lately’,” Foggy told you. “Literally, that’s it!”

“Fog, stop, you’re not helping,” Karen chastised.

Foggy rounded on Karen next. “Do you know how long I’ve watched her pine after Matt?” he asked her. “And now tonight she finally decides to try to flirt with him? I thought this was it! This was the night my two best friends got together and the pining would be over!”

Hands dropping to your sides, you focused on your feet as you continued to trudge along beside them. “Sorry to disappoint,” you told him. “But I think it’s safe to say Matt is not interested.”

“Why do you say that?” Karen asked curiously.

Your attention shifted to Karen next to you, your eyes meeting hers. “Because that back there?” you said flatly, gesturing a thumb over your shoulder. “That’s not how I usually act around Matt. That was more flirty than I’d even been when I’d first met him–which yes, is sad because that was an awful excuse for flirting back there. But if he didn’t respond to any of that tonight, then clearly he’s not interested.”

“She has a point,” Foggy said with a sigh on the other side of Karen. “She’s never been like that with him before. Not that I’ve seen at least. If Matt was picking up something from her and felt the same, he certainly wasn’t doing a good job reciprocating.” He leaned around Karen, shooting you that goddamn sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, but I think you’re right.”

“Not like I didn’t already know he only liked me as a friend,” you replied, tears stinging at your eyes. “I’ll just forever be the one woman in New York City Matt won’t date. Or even try to hook up with.” You felt a few warm tears slide down your cheeks, biting your tongue to fight back the sob threatening to fall out of you. “I’m just–just so tired of feeling like this,” you whispered. “Of crying over him. It’s been years of this. And I can’t–can’t make it stop.”

“Maybe…cut him out of your life?” Karen hesitantly suggested. 

Your eyes widened as your gaze flew to hers beside you. “Just–just stop being his friend?” you asked in disbelief.

She shrugged a shoulder. “I mean, if it’s hurting you this much for that long, and it’s not going anywhere with him and you’re not getting over him with anyone else…maybe it’s something to consider?” she said gently.

“I don’t think I could ever stop being his friend,” you admitted, shaking your head. “Not while I’m in New York.”

“You know,” Karen continued, that hesitant tone back, “I really don’t want to suggest this, but if that’s the case…have you ever thought about leaving?”

Your feet faltered on the sidewalk, Foggy and Karen coming to a stop with you. Foggy was shaking his head at Karen vehemently, wagging a finger at her.

“No, you’re not suggesting she leaves Hell’s Kitchen,” Foggy told her. “She’s one of my best friends.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Karen agreed, tucking some blonde hair behind her ear as she focused on him. “I’d rather she never leave either. But I mean…do you like knowing that she’s hurting this much? For all of this time?” Karen’s blue eyes shifted back to you. “Are you even happy?” she asked.

You opened your mouth, about to answer, but the words wouldn’t come out. Because the answer was no, you weren’t. Not really. Sure, you liked your job. You had friends you enjoyed spending time with. And you really loved New York City–even Hell’s Kitchen had really come to grow on you since graduation.

But deep down you wanted Matt. It was a constant, neverending ache right in the center of your chest. All of the dates you’d ever gone on since meeting him had eventually failed before they could become anything more because no one else was Matt. They couldn’t compare. You couldn’t get him out of your head long enough to really see someone else. Even with Liam, one of the only relationships you’d had in years, you had been constantly comparing him to Matt. But you’d tried really hard to be happy with him, and yet ultimately that relationship had ended in disaster. 

“I’m just saying,” Karen said softly, her eyes on you, “it’s an idea. If you’re really not happy, if it’s that difficult for you to move on past Matt, you could always leave New York. It’s not like you couldn’t come visit us, too. But I can see it on your face.” Her hand reached out, landing on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re hurting. And you really shouldn’t have to live like that.”

Wiping the back of your hands across your cheeks, you tried to wipe away your tears. With a sniffle you continued on again, both Karen and Foggy falling back in step with you on the sidewalk.

“It’s a thought, I suppose,” you muttered. “But I don’t really want to leave New York.”

“And you don’t have to,” Foggy assured you.

The chilly evening air bit at the tear tracks on your cheeks as the three of you neared the end of the block. It was the point in which you’d all soon part ways to head back to your own apartments. Beside you, Karen let out a deep sigh. 

“It was merely a suggestion,” she stated. “That’s all.”

[cattlemons]

Third Fifth Time's A Charm

| You and Megumi have been dating for quite some time now. Almost half a year, give or take. Upsettingly enough, he has yet to say his ‘I love you's. This bugs him a bit too much so Megumi is now a man on a mission and that mission just so happens to be about confessing his love to you. Basically the four times Megumi almost dropped the “L” word and the one time that he did. I mean come on, fifth time’s a charm, right?

TW: None, I think? I wrote it with college!au in mind but can be read as just a normal jujutsu kaisen fic Just fluff after posting angst, megumi gets chased by a duck? idk what counts as a tw pls let me know if I should add anything, also actual big boy writing cus word count is 3k.

---

Crumbs, ducks and hold on a minute... 

It was around October when the leaves were finally falling and the air was brisk. Megumi had decided to take you out for a mini-date before finals week whisks the both of you away, each secluded in their own world of ink and paper. 

It had honestly gone mostly ok and as planned. The usual schtick, really. Compliment your pretty outfit, exchange loving banters on the way there, get to the park and enjoy your time together. Simple and easy, right? 

Wrong. 

Megumi and you had just finished eating the sandwiches he’s prepared for the picnic. They were wrapped so neatly in pink patterned paper that you can’t help but swoon at the time and effort it must’ve taken for him to prepare it all. 

Megumi took to the toilet a bit after that, or, he planned to. What he didn’t see coming is the fact that ducks started chasing him around right as he walked past the pond. You soon learned that they were chasing him because of the bread crumbs falling off of his jeans. 

After a few bouts of running on Megumi’s part (and giggles from yours), the ducks finally stopped following him. Opting to squawk at the couple on the other side of the pond that’s actually trying to feed them crumbs and seeds. 

Megumi soon found relief as he sat back down beside you still huffing and puffing from the unexpected marathon he ran. Of course, you being the compassionate girlfriend that you are, did not let him off easy. At least, not without teasing him a bit. 

“You know those ducks have really good taste in men,” you quipped. A few beats of silence pass before the two of you erupt into a fit of laughter. 

You were nearly in tears as you continued to giggle uncontrollably at the mental image of Megumi getting chased and flirted with by ducks. Though you probably won't find your laughing any special, Megumi found it absolutely breathtaking. 

From the way your eyes brighten at the hilarious image to the sound of your held-in guffaws, Megumi just can’t get enough of it. He wants to hear it over and over again. He absolutely loves it. 

And he absolutely loves you.

Wait, huh?

Watson, how do you say “I love you”?

“Finally! No more stuffy libraries and definitely no more books! I’m so happy it’s over,” you yelled as you stretched out your tired back. 

Finals are over and you can now rest without worrying. However, it’s a whole other story for Megumi. He is still stressed out of his mind but not because of the reason you might think. No, he is stressed because he has yet confessed the feelings hidden deep in the recesses of his heart.

I love you. 

Who knew such simple words could drive one mad. Megumi never would’ve thought the stress his feelings would bring could trump the amount of stress an exam would bring but he supposes that he can only be so many times. 

Megumi has decided that maybe he should tell you the three words that have been plaguing his mind. So a few days after some much-needed rest, Megumi proposes a little trip to the art museum. Who were you to refuse such a sweet request?

Dressed in his most academic-looking attire, Megumi readies himself for his little confession, going so far as to script it. 

Yes, today he will confess!

Today he did not confess.

It really was the perfect moment. Megumi feels absolutely horrible for letting such perfect timing pass him by but nothing could be done about it now. 

The perfect timing came by when you were nearing the end of the date. It was a really fun date, possibly one of the best ones so far! Megumi had shown you around the museum, giving fun tidbits of information on each art he sees. You were about to point out how knowledgeable your boyfriend was before it finally clicked. 

“Ah! My dear Watson, I think I’ve solved the mystery. It turns out the Duke of Information, Megumi Noritoshi, has done ample research before this date! Proof in the pudding, Watson, look at his palms,” you teased as you took his hands into yours and pushed back his sweater sleeves to see smeared notes on his earlier “fun facts”.

Megumi’s face turned pink as he flushed at your exposing of his secret. Muttering a small, “Blimey, I’ve been caught!” in response to your little skit. 

Seeing him blush and flustered has you grinning (not that anyone could blame you, it really is a cute sight). Taking your chance, you decide to tease him a bit more. Opting for light nudges of your elbow and soft kisses all over his face. This, of course, did nothing to ease the red spilling all over his cheeks. If anything it painted more colors on his face. 

Once the teasing died down, you decided to maybe be a bit more heartfelt. After all, he did prepare for your date and put in so much effort to learn these facts and information. 

“I might not say this enough but I absolutely appreciate you putting this much effort into our dates… maybe I have not been vocal enough  about these things but I hope you know I really do appreciate you doing this and… I love you,” you mumbled a tad bit quieter than you usually would. You’re even caught sporting a light blush of your own despite you trying your best to keep a nonchalant front. This isn’t your first time telling him you love him but, still, being so heartfelt like this has you blushing.

Megumi smiled at his usually unbothered girlfriend being so, well, bothered. 

Wrapping his hands around your waist, he goes to give you a small peck on the crown of your head before leaning in a bit more to whisper his confession. 

I love you!

Yet the words did not seem to tumble out. Although a bit disappointed in his lack of confidence, Megumi recovered quickly and instead leaned in for a sweet kiss. 

I wonder if fishes have confessions too?

“Megumi look! They’re so pretty,” you exclaimed excitedly as you pointed at a jellyfish swimming past. Megumi nods in agreement though he is honestly paying more attention to you than the exhibit.

Megumi has taken it upon himself to set up another good date  to confess on. Truth be told, he’s had far too many nightmare-ish thoughts about his recent failures in confessing and how he’ll never be able to say it. So, to take action, Megumi decides to take you on another date. This time he decided that maybe visiting an aquarium would be fun!

He is sorely mistaken, unfortunately.

As you continue to walk through the exhibit, you fail to notice Megumi lagging a bit behind you in the aquarium tunnel. Your attention was so fixated by the fishes swimming over your head and on each of your sides, that you missed the sight of your boyfriend darkly muttering (and struggling) on his confession script. 

Or so he thought...

“Honestly, why can’t I just be a fish-”

“Why would you want to be a fish though?” you asked as you leaned in towards him. 

Megumi’s eyes widen in surprise at your sudden intrusion. Megumi supposes that he’s been too lost to the world. He shook his head and just muttered a quiet “never mind”. 

The day continued as you enjoyed your day. You feast your eyes on magnificent sea creatures both great and small; you can’t help but awe at them as a child would. Not that Megumi minded, he thinks you look absolutely adorable when you coo at the sharks or clap at the seals when they would do a trick. However, Megumi couldn’t say he’s enjoying today as much because he continued to struggle with his little confession script, either chickening out at the last minute or completely missing the perfect timing. 

By the end of the day, Megumi decided enough is enough. Under the dim lights of the empty “deep sea” sector of the zoo, Megumi closed his eyes and steeled himself. Summoning every bit of courage he had within him, he blurted out his confession. It was a bit aggressive and loud, perhaps even a bit rushed. 

But he did it-

-not.

Megumi opened his eyes, to be greeted not by your soft smile. It wasn’t even your frown. Instead, he was greeted by a fish staring directly at him through the aquarium glass. It seems to be mocking him, almost. And as for you, you were already at the other side of the area, lining up to pay for a souvenir that caught your eyes. 

Ugh, why can’t he just be a fish and blow bubbles at you to show his love? 

Wine is a  poetic mood-setter, right?

Although tired and defeated by his numerous failed attempts, Megumi is not one to give up. This is especially true when it comes to you. So, if one plan fails then best be known he is already running back to the drawing board to come up with a new one.

This time around Megumi decided to pull up on all the stops. Sparing no expense, he reserved a table at one of the city’s most high-end restaurants. I mean what could be more romantic than a late-night wine-and-dine?

To Megumi it’s not the pricey menus that are troubling, nor is it the number of strings he had to pull to get the reservation. Nope. What’s troubling him is the confession he is secretly building up to. You see, it’s been a good handful of months since Megumi came to the realization that he absolutely adores you. 

He loves you.

Yet, somehow, saying it out loud is a whole different league than thinking and coming to terms with it. Something about admitting it and posing vulnerable seems so jarring to him. Of course, you’ve never given him any reason to fear being honest with you. He supposes that if anything were to cause him to be this certain way, then it’s probably the lack of touchy-feely emotions in his childhood. That aside, Megumi is still as determined as ever to tell you that he loves you. This brings us to the current situation. 

Megumi is seated opposite of you, decked in his slickest suit and tie. You had admitted that he looks ridiculously good in his outfit before the dinner (he blushes at the comment). Naturally, you were also in a rather stunning number yourself, with the scandalous-looking outfit only you could possibly pull off. 

As much as Megumi would love to just admire you and enjoy the amazing atmosphere, he has other things currently occupying his head. At first glance, you might’ve thought that he was flustered by your choice of outfit for the night if you didn’t know any better. This is, of course, one of the reasons why Megumi was a bit dazed but sadly that’s not the only reason why. 

You didn’t really connect the dots right away. There are a bunch of little crumbs and pieces that could’ve contributed to Megumi’s flustered and jumpy attitude in this particular evening but nothing defining. 

The evening progressed and more telltale signs showed themselves to you. You could honestly write a meter-long list but to keep it concise, the things you have noticed include Megumi’s inability to look you directly in the eye, the rather incessant twiddling of his thumbs, the stutter that accompanied his usually leveled voice, and finally (and the most telling) is his avoidance of the word “love”. 

Of course, it could all be a coincidence but you think not. Although you didn’t do much to garner his “suspicion”, you’re not daft nor were you ignorant. You knew of his struggles in dropping a particular “L” word. You had honestly known for a while. It’s not that you were a psychic or anything of that sort, it was actually because Megumi had not been the most secretive of his plans. You suppose he intended for it to be a “hush-hush” plan but unfortunately for Megumi, he had a tendency to think out loud when stressed. 

Though you were originally planning to let Megumi off the hook and let him figure things out on his own, you decided that leaving him to wallow on his own is doing more harm than good. So when Megumi choked rather aggressively at his pasta when you said the word “love”, you chose to bring up the topic. 

“So, when are you gonna tell me what’s been cooking up in that head of yours… hmm?”

Megumi’s eyes widened at the question you’ve just asked, though it seems more like a prompt than a question. Megumi looked down to his lap for a second before facing you again, this time sporting an embarrassed flush on his cheeks. 

Megumi struggled to confess before letting out a defeated sigh and a small apology. This caused you to shake your head, not in a dismissive way but in a way to tell him that there’s nothing to be sorry for. 

“Megumi, I know you know I know so I’ll just say it outright,” you huffed before continuing, “I love you’s aren’t something you can or should force out. I’ve said it to you on countless accounts because it comes naturally to me, love. I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel cornered into saying it but please know that I don’t mind you taking your time, ok?”

Your little speech was met with a relieved sigh and soon followed by a laugh. You look up to see Megumi’s genuine grin in place, you can’t help but smile at the endearing sight. 

“Ahh, I should’ve known not to stress over these kinds of things when it’s with you, huh? Thanks. I’ll definitely take my time with it.” 

You nodded in agreement at his newfound determination. As much as you wanted to hear those three words tumble out of his lips and uttered to you, you knew better than to rush him into it. And besides, hearing it in full sincerity will definitely be better than hearing a rushed one. With all that said, you and Megumi enjoyed the rest of the evening with wine glasses raised and the air filled with happy chatters and laughs. 

And I thought it was difficult, huh?

A streak of light shone through the gaps in the curtains, making it known to you that it is time to get up already. Or, at least, it would be time to get up had it been a weekday. Thankfully, however, it is the weekend so you can take your time in getting up. While your boyfriend slept soundly beside you, his hand draped loosely over your figure, you can’t help but admire his features. As you did so, thoughts on what happened a while back popped into your head. 

 It’s been a few months since your last dinner date with Megumi and things have calmed down quite a bit. Although Megumi still feels a twinge of guilt from his lack of response whenever you whisper an “I love you”, he does remember your take on this situation, and those few words you spared have done immense work in calming him down. 

As you continue to reminisce on the events that have transpired in the last few months, you failed to notice Megumi stirring awake beside you. You only notice that he’s awake when he’s poking your cheek, asking, no, demanding petulantly for his morning kisses. 

Deciding to tease him a bit while he’s still in his morning daze, you uttered, “Sorry, love. Morning breath.” You went as far as sniffing at his general direction and fanning your hands over your nose and scrunched your nose up in fake disgust. 

Still in a sleepy stupor, Megumi pouts at you and goes to get out of bed. You decide to let your curiosity win and end up following your boyfriend to the bathroom, the cold linoleum tiles doing wonders in waking the two of you up immediately. 

Though he is now much more awake now than a few minutes ago, it didn’t dampen his pout one bit. With the handle of his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, Megumi babbled on about how his day is now ruined because you wouldn’t let him start it off with a kiss. You only giggled in response, your own toothbrush poking out of your lips. 

Being the menace that you are, you decided to playfully smear Megumi’s face with some toothpaste foam. One thing led to another and soon you two are on the bathroom floor laughing aloud. Somehow his laugh and expressions egged yours on and yours did his which caused a new bout of laughter to erupt every time you’d both fall silent. It went on like this for quite some time but neither of you minded it one bit.  

Now that the laughter has died down a bit, you both exchanged mini banters here and there, still seated on the floor with both your shoulders touching; with toothpaste in your hair and on his cheek. As you giggled at a particular joke Megumi muttered, he felt that odd feeling in his heart again, just like the time in the park and all those other dates he stressed over but this time, before he could stop it, he whispered…

“I love you.”

Your laughter immediately ceased only to be replaced by the happiest grin you’ve ever mustered. With new buzzing energy coursing through you, you tackled Megumi into a hug which effectively knocked the two of you down to the ground but neither you nor Megumi minded.

With his newfound confidence, Megumi repeated the foreign sentence over and over again as if he’s testing it out. He finds that he likes saying it. 

He likes it because your smile widens a bit more when he says it. 

He likes it because you’d give him kisses whenever he says it.

And he absolutely loves it because you’d always say it back to him.

With a wobbly and lovesick grin, Megumi says it one more time for good measure. 

“I love you.” 

a.n. I did not really proofread this bcs I had classes today and it KO'd me :"(

Hope you liked it!

[stellisketches]

Random MCD Headcanons that have nothing to do with anything (Part 5???)

Sorry I haven't made any real posts in forever. My drawing phone broke and college has been a bitch so i haven't really gotten the chance to make anything (though I finally made some more progress on the next chapter of my rewrite). In any case, please accept this next installment of head canons I wrote like 10 months ago and completely forgot about in lieu of anything that requires actual talent. Love y'all:

Laurance lost an incisor tooth in a fistfight when he was 19

When he got turned into a shadowknight it grew back, now he purposefully goes out of his way to loose teeth just cause he knows he can grow back an unlimited supply

Hayden has a cat named Bog Butter. He’s the color of butter and he found him in the bog. 

Vylad’s favorite vegetable is avocado

There are three major guard academies in Ru’aun: one in O’Khasis, one in Scaleswind, and one in Bright Port. 

Bright Port’s is the largest and most well known

O’Khasis’ is the most prestigious

Scaleswind’s academy is the most difficult

The bare minimum age to join is 14, though most people join between 16-19

Every guard must have a minimum of 2 years training to earn the actual title of Guard, however to serve in O’Khasis you need a minimum of 4 and for Scaleswind a minimum of 5. 

Part of that training includes apprenticeship, so they do get some in-field experience with their mentors (think unpaid intern)

Technically you can train for up to 8 years, however most people only train for 2-5.

Garroth was in academy for 3-4 (although to be fair he had been trained in sword fighting since he was like 9)

Laurance went for 5 years and Dante went for 6 ½ 

Dante lied about his age when he enlisted though

He was barely thirteen

Both went to the Bright Port Academy however they were in different divisions at different times since Dante is younger, so they really only saw each other in passing and never actually talked to one another

The only personal interaction they ever had was one time at the academy Laurance was trying to get back to his dorm after a night of copious drinking and partying and could barely walk out the front door of the bar. Dante (who was pretty tipsy himself) ended up half-carrying back to Laurance’s dorm before going back to his own. Neither of them remember this. 

Katelyn’s two older brothers’ names are Kaj and Khareem

Khareem is the oldest, then Kaj, then Katelyn, then Kacey

Occasionally, when he is absolutely, positively, 100% sure he is alone, Zane will sing to himself sometimes

Dante once did a Zane impression in front of everyone and Garroth got so freaked out by how realistic it sounded he made Dante swear he’d never do that voice around him again. 

The worst argument Kenmur and Emmalyn ever had during their marriage was whether their system was heliocentric or geocentric (Kenmur argued the former and Emmalyn argued the latter)

In most colleges across Ru’Aun, there is usually some statue of Enki that students will leave offerings to before their big exams

Offerings vary, but it’s usually something like food, money, trinkets, or paper. It varies on how important the exam/how desperate the students are

Kenmur went to one of these colleges for a few years

One time he fell asleep the night before his final exam and he woke up like an hour before his exam was supposed to take place and in a fit of panic he dumped his entire wallet in front of the statue. He passed with flying colors.

One time at the Narhakan college someone left a life-sized horse statue made out of gold. No one has any idea where it came from or who left it. It’s become kind of an urban legend among all the colleges

Zenix never learned how to read and by god he isn’t about to wimp out now

Garroth tried to teach him once and it… did not go well

Let’s just say Garroth still owes Emmalyn a book from that incident. And a new table. 

Zianna came from the same region that Esmund was native to

Katelyn absolutely despises the feeling of sand in her shoes

Dmitri and Nekoette raided the Bright Port guard academy kitchen the first night they got sworn in

Dmitri also had to go to the infirmary after getting shot in the arm by one of Nekoette’s loose arrows

Laurance can play the piano and used to play it at some of the taverns in Meteli

Levin and Malachi both know a good bit of Elvish thanks to spending so much time in Yggdrasil

They switch to Elvish for the majority of their arguments

[chaosduckies]

Friends In Small Places (Chapter 1)

The size shifter story is finally here! This is more of a slightly sad piece, even though this first chapter isn’t really all that gloomy and monochrome, I actually have this entire plot line planned out and everything, and whew is the ending going to be something.

But I hope you enjoy! (this chapter is mainly just for introductions so I’m sorry if there really isn’t anything interesting TwT)

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: Depression, major anxiety, slight gore warning? (Though nothing actually happens)

1-Liam

Today the main hall was bustling with people crowding the board that had all of the activities and clubs posted on. Most of the time people didn’t care all too much about it, only the people who were actually in those clubs, but today was different for some reason. Fitting in between the seemingly hundreds of people, I saw what the commotion was all about. The psychology classes were all being called to a meeting at four. Which was when most classes ended, but still. It’s rare that this school ever calls meetings. It just so happens that I was taking psychology though. 

I sighed, moving back on the free sidewalk get to the library. A friend was waiting for me to help her study for a test she had in just a few hours. I thought I might as well help seeing that I’ve already taken the course. I used to think that college was extremely strict from how my old high school teachers described it, but in reality it’s not that hard when you just take the time to study and take a few practice tests the day before one. It was just two-and-a-half years before I major in psychology and become a therapist. Well, that was my dream anyways. In this world, it was a lot harder given that most therapists get assigned to a size shifter. That was something I didn’t want to do. Well, maybe if it was one who could only shrink, but that’s maybe it. It freaks me out knowing that there are some shifters who could be as tall as a small skyscraper, and some even bigger. A shiver ran down my spine even thinking about it. But that won’t happen. 

Among the few people sitting at the quiet tables lines with pencils, a few pieces of notebook paper, and a lamp that barely even worked, there was a girl waving her arms around aimlessly trying to gain my attention. I laughed softly before walking and sitting down next to her. It seemed she had been here for hours with how she kept her space. Papers spewed all across with scribbled down notes that was barely even legible, colored pens in a mixed mess with her other writing supplies. It made you wonder how she had even made it to college. 

“I see you’ve been hard at work, Rhya.” I set my slightly heavy bag down and started attempting to clean up the vast sums of paper all over the desk and try to keep her notes in order. 

“Yeah well, not everyone can be all neat and tidy as you are.” She lightly elbowed me before grabbing the stack of papers in my hand and shoving them in a folder. I guess she was going to re-do them after all. Either that or she didn’t need them. Despite this being primarily a nursing and health school, Rhya was in the art department. Of course she had to take the core classes along with her own elective, but she plans on becoming a graphic designer. 

“It’s not my fault I know how to study and you don’t.” I joked around, watching her pull out her computer and grab a few empty pages on notebook paper and her calculus book. 

“And it’s not my fault you don’t know how to have any fun.” She stuck her tongue out playfully before pulling up a practice test. 

“Hey I know how to have fun, just not when I know I have better things to worry about.” She solved the first problem right, pumping her fist up in the air as she wrote down the question and highlighted everything she needed to do. I’m also guessing she planned to study whatever notes she was making. 

“I guess you have a point. How’s that psychology major coming along?” She had asked, writing down the problem and attempting to solve it. I sighed, pointing to the number she was missing, “You square root that,” Rhya groaned, “It’s going good. We have some kind of weird meeting later today though.” 

“Oh? Do you know what about?” Rhya asked, but I could tell she was hiding something from me. She knew something. 

“No. Do you?” I skeptically looked at her, earning a side eye right back as she had paused her writing for a moment. 

“Would you believe me if I said no?” She grumbled, I shook my head, a slight smile forming on my face. She knew I would win this argument. 

“Okay well, this might not be true, but I heard that a few psychology students were chosen to have a training. Like, the real deal kind of thing. Size shifter and all. That the ones chosen were supposed to act like one of those special therapists.” My heart nearly skipped a beat at the news. Where did she even hear this from in the first place? There’s no way that’s even real. 

“You’re kidding, right?” I laughed nervously. Even if it was true, I doubt they’d choose a sophomore. I’ve only really had a few practices and I still have a couple more years until I become the real deal. 

“Would I lie to you?” She turned to me, a worried look on her face. Did she think I would have to go through with that? I sincerely doubt it. There was no way they’d put me on whatever list they have going on. Maybe my upperclassman though. They could choose Chelsey, she was really good with everyone and a senior. They’d most likely choose her. Maybe even Ryan since he was really experienced. Actually, he was a size shifter himself, but he’s so good at controlling his emotions that he doesn’t even need to worry about accidentally shooting up a couple feet. 

“Ah, it doesn’t matter. I doubt they choose someone with barely any experience. Don't’ worry about it.” I smiled, pointing back to Rhya’s computer to tell her that she needed to get to studying and stop worrying about me. Seriously, she really needed to study otherwise she was going to fail. I can almost guarantee that she’ll be crying to me later when she fails her test. Not my fault she doesn’t study. 

——————

The gym was a large space, but our entire class only took up one tiny portion of the bleacher space as our instructor and several other people dressed up in fancy suits were talking on the ground. I sat next to Ryan, who was playing with the green-colored band on his wrist, showing that he was in one of the five classes of size shifters. Purple represented that they could shrink down to an inch or maybe even smaller if their emotions had the better of them. Blue represented that they could shrink too, but not as much as the one’s with a purple wrist. Green represented that they could both shrink and grow, but only to a certain height. Yellow meant that the shifter could grow to be the size of about a small building, or maybe even a little more depending on how they’re feeling. Red was by far the worst one. To me at least. The shifter’s with a red band can grow to heights you could only dream of. Which was why all shifters with a red band were all forced to be with a specialized therapist for only them. Because if they lose control of their emotions, it could end pretty badly.  

“I’m glad you all saw the announcement on the board. I’m a little surprised really.” Mr. Smith shoved his hands in his front pant pockets, taking a look at all of us before his eyes laid on me, smiling warmly. Why? Something was up. 

“These two gentlemen here are the head of the SSU. Also known as the company that helps size shifters in need. Recently, there has been a shortage of individuals that are willing to work with shifters in helping them control themselves. These two are on the look for candidates-in-training to help fill those missing spots.” 

The two men in suits walked to the front, holding out a clipboard. Those had whoever was going to be picked for this. But why this school? There was another college not too far from here. They could choose from them. Unless they were, and the “tiny” shortage was actually a big one. Or… no. They wouldn’t do that, right? It’s the SSU, they’ve literally helped the world become safer for decades. They wouldn’t be doing an experiment, would they? 

“It’s wonderful to see all sixty-two of you young scholars gathered here today. As your professor already said, we are both from the head office at SSU looking for the best of the best to fill in those empty spots, regardless if you do or don’t have any experience.” That last part made a shiver run down my spine. Ryan turned his head to me, patting me on the back. There was no way they’d choose a nobody like me. No way in hell. 

“This list contains twenty of you who will be taking part in this. You will be in charge of taking care of your designated partner until we can find a professional replacement suited well enough to take over. If I call your name, please stay behind after we dismiss everyone.” The tall man smiled, looking down at the clipboard and calling several names. The anxiety pricked my skin like icicle shards, it had almost seemed like the man reading off names was speaking in slow motion. A few deep breaths, and it was back to normal. 

“Ryan Wright.” He smiled while earning several compliments and congratulations from his fellow classmates. 

“Chelsey Torres.” She giggled a few seats away from us. 

“And Liam Rover.” 

My muscles tensed up at the mention of my name. I couldn’t tell if my heart had stopped or if it was just beating horrifyingly fast. I could tell people were trying to praise me, but I couldn’t hear, their appraisal only reaching my ears in a muffled and slow manner. I managed the most sincere smile I could while trying to hide how much I was trembling. Maybe this would be okay? Maybe I’ll be lucky and not be paired up with a shifter who could potentially crush me between two if their fingers if they really wished to. Was the room cold or was it just me? 

“Everyone else may head to their dorms. Thank you for coming.” 

After everyone had filed out of the empty gym, the other shorter man dressed in an identical suit as the taller one started calling out our names all over again, handing them a red folder with presumedly the shifter we’ll be assigned. Was this how it was when you’re actually a professional? You just get assigned to one? You don’t get to know them or anything? 

Once I was handed my folder, I dreaded every single second of opening it. Please let it be easy, please let it be easy, please let it be eas-

Oh. 

It was only a picture of who we were partnered up with and anything that might be worth mentioning about them. Wow was I overreacting. Then again, that didn’t exactly smoothen out the anxiety that was still pricking at my skin. Though, this shifter didn’t seem so bad. If anything, he actually looked pretty nice. The only thing I had noticed was that he was diagnosed with depression. He kind of looked like it too if I were being honest. It seemed hard for him to smile for the picture. Why did I also get the hint that he wasn’t feeling very good either? I guess I’ll find out when we officially meet. 

“Inside you’ll find who your partner will be for the foreseeable future. You’ll still be coming to your classes, which was why we mainly wanted to stick with the upperclassmen, and afterward go back to where we are currently housing your designated shifter. You have three days to pack everything you need and want, and you’ll soon be living off campus. Just think of it was having a roommate that needs constant supervision.” 

Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I’m almost entirely confident that this shifter won’t really be a big deal. I mean, he looks about a year or two younger than me. So he just graduated high school? Agh, I have no idea. I’m just jumping to conclusions. But, hopefully they won’t make me handle anything crazy. That I can’t do. 

——————

They were driving me across the city to go meet up with the shifter I’ll be taking care of for however long. For all I know it could be a few days or weeks. I would think someone would want to step up for the job instead of letting students do this, but I guess not. Chelsey and Ryan have texted me a few times that they were getting settled in already while I was still heading over. It was already around thirty minutes just to get across the place, so that means I’ll have to take a bus almost everyday just to make it to my classes. That’s just great, but I’m in no position to complain. I actually tried talking with Professor Smith about it, but he told me that he had no say in the matter at all, which was weird. I doubt he would want his younger students to even take part in this. 

Along the streets were the many, many buildings that both accommodated for humans and their much larger or smaller companions. Although I’ve only ever been around Ryan about twice when he’s giant, it really wasn’t that bad. He can only grow till someone was like the height if his entire hand so it really wasn’t even that bad. Of course it’s still nerve-racking, but I trust him. Plus, we were at a small party with our little friend group. I doubt he could even bring himself to hurt someone. So really I wasn’t too worried. The only other shifter I’ve been around is an old high school friend of mine, but she goes to a different college now. 

Hundred of houses passed by us as we drove into a little neighborhood. What really made me worried was that the driver wasn’t exactly stopping at the normal-sized houses. Where was he going? I watched grimly as some of the huge houses we passed by came to a halt to one on the very end of one of the many streets. This one wasn’t as big as the other one’s down the street, but it wasn’t exactly small either. At least to me. So… I was paired up with a shifter who could only grow. That’s great. Just… great. 

I grabbed my bag and the small suitcase I had brought with me that was just full of my clothes and some stuff for school. Well if I’m supposed to stay here almost all of the time now I have to find something to keep me busy. And apparently from the immense size difference that will be between my new roommate and I. Of course I was terrified! If he really is diagnosed with depression and was a shifter who grew that only made matters worse for me. I hope whoever plans to take over for me does it soon. 

It took me and the driver to reach the doorstep, but eventually the driver gave it a knock. I swear I could hear some mumbling coming from the other side, but I didn’t dwell too much on that. Most.y because the extremely large door started to open slowly, but I saw no one on the other side. Maybe he was shy? 

“Well I may take my leave, though I have been ordered to tell you that a bus comes in the morning at around 6 just down the street from here, and another will take you back here around 5 and 8. Also, if anything goes wrong, to call this number on your phone.” He handed me a folded slip of paper, then took his leave. I shoved the slip in my pocket, hesitantly taking a few steps into the huge house. 

It was neatly cleaned around the place, though I couldn’t really see from my view on the ground. Everything around me was huge. I mean I’ve been to one of the rooms on the bigger side of the campus, but those rooms were smaller. It’s not an entire house filled with furniture. 

As I took a few steps out more, I jumped when the door had lightly closed behind me. My eyes trailed up and up, finding the face of the person I had seen in the picture. His eyes grew wide when I met his gaze, then bit the bottom of his lip before sliding his back against the wall behind him. 

Everything in my body told me to run, but if I did then I would only get scolded for it later. This isn’t even what I wanted to be! I wanted to be a normal therapist that helps regular adults and kids feel better. Not a human who could easily trap me in a fist and just kill me. I would have been fine if they could only shrink, but this was much worse. 

I faced down, taking a few deep breaths that barely even help me in this situation. I had to take care of someone fifty times my own size? How was that even possible? There weren’t even any smaller sized things around this place. Nothing that could help me get around easier either! 

I guess I could attempt to get his name. I mean, nothing could go wrong then, right? Just maybe from a distance… even if he could, at any point in time, just grab me whenever he so wanted. I felt sick just thinking about being held. Wouldn’t I have to be though? I can’t exactly just climb everywhere I want to go. 

“H-hi. Um, I’m Liam.” I forced myself to walk closer, even under his gaze, but I stopped walking closer when he moved himself further in the corner, looking a bit saddened. He probably knew I was scared. Maybe. I hope I’m some-what hiding it well enough. Though, I’ve never really been that good at it. 

“Oh, um, C-Casper. You can call me Cas if you want.” He kept his voice to a very quiet whisper. So he knew that if he talked too loud it would hurt my ears. At least he’s self-aware. Though, I couldn’t help but feel bad. I may be utterly terrified of him, but I mean he hasn’t really given me a reason to be truly scared, yet. 

“Nice to m-meet you, Cas.” I put on my best fake genuine smile. What? Have to find some way to convince him I wasn’t scared. Even if my body was trembling like crazy and my heart threatened to just come right out of my mouth. 

“Y-you too, sir.” His hand slightly twitched, but he just shook his head, giving me a sad look. ‘Sir?’ Why did he call me that? I didn’t dwell on it. Instead, I turned to look at the place, not finding a place to put my stuff. I sighed, hurrying to place it up against the wall opposite of Cas. This would be fine. Yeah, yeah. 

Casper, overall, seemed pretty nice. He had a black, messy hair that complimented his light-brown eyes. He wore a baggy long-sleeve shirt with a pair of jeans I have no idea why he was just wearing jeans in his own house, but it’s whatever he wants to do. Not my place to comment. The only real thing that caught my attention were the light bags in his eyes. Has he been sleeping? 

“Did you want to come here? Like, willingly?” He had asked, slightly leaning a little closer to my spot in the middle of the floor. I admit, it made me a little uneasy, but I don’t think he realized it. It just made it really hard to answer his question when all I could think about was how easily he could kill me right now. He wouldn’t do that, right? He seems so nice. Even if I’m barely two inches to him and I could easily just be crushed or accidentally killed if he wasn’t being too mindful. I shuddered at the thought, but forced my voice to work with me. 

“I-I’m just a student at a college. They just told us we were going to help out shifters, for like, real-world training I guess.” I started speaking a little fast and I could hear my voice slowly get quieter the more Cas seemed to lower his body to me. I felt so small compared to him. It’s overwhelming really, but it’s not like I can just back out. I already asked and they said if I did then I wasn’t cut out to stay in the classes. Seriously, all I wanted was to either be a therapist or a social worker. Not take on these huge responsibilities of making sure an entire living being is doing okay and doesn’t have any malicious intent to just… Aghhhh. 

“Oh. Well, I’m not exactly the best person to be paired up with.” He laughed sadly, holding up his wrist and revealing a red band. A little squeak left my mouth as I stood in place, practically frozen in fear. Why did they pair me up with him? They gave me more than I can handle. There was no way I could do this. I bit the side of my cheek, struggling to keep my composure. 

Cas caught onto my fear, scooting as far away from me as he could while making sure I wouldn’t freak out. Why did he move away? I was going to be fine. I think- But I was okay. Just as long as I keep a certain distance from him for a while. It takes me a long time to adjust to new things, and this might take me a while, but I couldn’t just do nothing. It was obvious to me that Cas was afraid of something, I just couldn’t figure out what just yet. 

“I’m fine, Cas, I promise.” I nervously smiled, hiding how terrified I was. Shifters with a red band can grow to heights you could only dream of. Great. Seriously, what have they done? They think I can handle someone who already looks like he’s struggling to keep himself together just by meeting me? I didn’t really want to find out what would happen if he doesn’t contain his emotions. Was there a person partnered up with him before? I knew I wasn’t going to be getting any answers, but there was no harm in asking them. 

“O-Okay,” He whispered, getting in a more comfortable sitting position, “Are you sure though? I don’t mind giving you an hour or two to get used to… everything.” He looked away for a second, and I could tell something was on his mind. Along with the constant moving away every time I had tried to walk closer, or when he knew I was scared of him, I would think to say that he’s scared of himself. Or, at least hurting other people. It makes sense actually. I’ve heard stories that a lot of shifters realize that they can really hurt people and just try their hardest not to interact with people smaller than themselves. It’s like they collapse on themselves since they don’t want to hurt anyone. I guess Cas and I weren’t so different. 

“Okay, look, it’s obvious that you’re more afraid of yourself than I am of you,” Cas’s eyes widened, “How about we both try to help each other out? I’ll keep trying if you do.” I held out my hand without thinking. A compromise between the two of us. I know we both met like five minutes ago, but I’m pretty sharp for people my age with little experience. But, honestly, maybe this wasn’t so bad. I think all that Cas wanted was the relief that he won’t hurt people. Or something like that. 

“You’d go through with all that? I’m not exactly mentally stable.” I could tell that he was worried, but I just nodded my head, a genuine smile on my face that I hoped he could see. 

He eyed my hand for a while, and I still hadn’t realized what was wrong until he lightly pinched my hand between the tip of his pointer and thumb, barely even lifting it up and down for my own sake. Oh he has no idea how scared I was right now, but he didn’t have to know that. Just a little more pressure and he could just yank my arm right off-I shook that thought away. Don’t think about that right now. It would be okay. Just as long as I get an idea of what to do when he does eventually lose control or something. I had zero idea. I think the thought that stuck in the back of my mind was making me more worried than anything really. I’m just a stress toy for him. But I’ll just have to get over my fear. There was no way I would let this stop me from graduating. Not in a million years.

——————

Sorry for a slightly boring chapter! I did a LOT of world building for this one, and had to map out almost every single interaction through the course of the entire story plot. There also wasn’t much g/t but again, it’s just an introduction chapter. (I’m doing what I love and no one can stop me hehehe-)

But I hope you enjoyed reading! I promise the second chapter will have a much, much better g/t interaction. (Oh trust me it will >:3) I hope you all have a great day/night!

[spadesolace]

childish antics: wil! minji x fem!reader

they say, you know they’re the one if they support your childish antics. minji just so happens to be the same person who wants to stay at home and build legos with you.

warning/s: none, established relationship, not proofread

spade speaks: you can read this as stand alone, no need to read what is love first

as childish as it may seem, you managed to persuade minji into buying lego sets.

college life has been hectic, within the first three months at Korea University, the amount of papers and experiments you and minji have done just led to burnout. providing a solution to it was playing with legos, at first minji was hesitant because shouldn’t you two be saving money to pay for your necessities?

“well… yeah but i have enough money saved up to at least buy two lego sets.”

“save it, yn. who knows when we might need those funds.”

hanni was right, you two do act like an old married couple. considering you now both live together, do weekly hangouts with your friends and treat them as your children, and discuss things that only married couples do. that’s probably due to the fact you’ve been friends since elementary.

“please, we can just get those small ones and not those big sets.” minji was already planning on buying a set for your 8th month anniversary but then again, this is one of the rare occurrences of your professors being chill.

“fine, we’ll just buy the small ones.”

“this is why i love you.”

looking around the big lego store that was near their place, minji slowly regretted agreeing to buying the small sets. the small ones were something you could finish on your own right away, while the big sets, specifically the one you’re eyeing, is perfect for the budget and an activity of you two. those puppy dog eyes that usually don’t work easily on minji suddenly paid off as she saw you holding the starry night set. she deeply regrets saying yes to the small sets, now that she sees the way you’re jumping up and down after paying.

before you could actually leave the store, you noticed the make your own character, pulling minji back in and telling her your genius plan of making one for the both of you and the last one being a complete mess of a character.

“I’ll pay for it, i promise.” you’ve always been true to your words and minji could only nod but explained she wanted to build you as a lego, while you make her character. simple, but not a lot of pieces have that specific wow factor that made you think of minji. 

after 10 minutes of making your own minifigure, deciding to surprise each other, only ended up with the two of you laughing.

“WHY’D YOU GIVE ME A RAT AS AN ACCESSORY?!”

“DON’T ACT ALL INNOCENT, YOU GAVE ME A COKE ZERO!”

you continued teasing her about that one song she wrote on the whim about coke zero, it was catchy but it felt out of place at the same time. the way minji just laughs at your antics catches you off guard on how you manage to be her girlfriend. you spent years pining for her and finally you’re together still acting like best friends who kiss each other and are staying under the same roof. as minji’s laugh died down, she could only stare back at you with confusion, a small smile on your face and seeing as your minifigures are holding each other’s hand.

“what?”

“nothing, i’m just- in awe.” you kissed minji on the cheek, pulling away you started looking for pieces for the last minifigure.

“don’t give it an afro.” as childish it may seem, when you’re with minji, you don’t care anymore. she’s definitely the one you want to spend the rest of your life with, someone who supports your childish antics and lets you have fun when things get rough.

“the last one surely looks like it got my style and your looks, darling.”

“maybe that’s something we’ll see in the near future.”

gosh, you really love kim minji.

[mixtape127]

worlds colliding ☆ pt.1

genre : non!idol mark lee x male reader, college au, ennemies to lovers ?

summary : what if you - kinda - had to save the world and Mark was your sidekick ? or — you need to give out fliers for a class, and Mark doesn't care about "global warming."

warnings : strong language, mark is kind of a douchebag but i swear he's sweet, not proofread yet

words : 1.6k

notes : i love this story sm, it's been in my drafts for so long and it was supposed to be about p1harmony, but i like it with mark too ! might make it in more than just 2 parts if you guys enjoy it as much as i do ! and btw, english isn't my native language, so i really do hope i actually wrote well and if i made dumb mistakes, i'm sorry :((

currently listening to :

"thank you, please look forward to it !" y/n says, bowing multiple times, a smile enlightening his face, watching the group of students walk away with fliers in his hands. "i hope to see you there tomorrow !"

it must have been around 9:40 a.m., a chilly morning for a spring day. the sun was shining, the clouds were absent. the green leaves were showing, some still falling on the grass of the campus park. the students in short sleeves were out again, and the jocks were taking advantage of the cooler weather to work out outside. y/n looked up, his eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. he felt cold, his bones shaking. his poor denim jacket did not cover his bare arms, and his jeans with holes in them did not provide any warmth either. he smiled to himself, seeing some birds migrating elsewhere, formed into a triangle.

he blinked a few times, returning to his emotionless face, before continuing to approach some of the students in groups to give them the rest of his fliers. but none of them seemed interested, and y/n began to lose hope. his business professor had made it clear that if he couldn't get at least 20 students to donate, his semester was over. this was his last chance, and he wasn't about to let it go. his displeasure gradually began to show, the creases in his face deepening. the more people walked around him, the more his hands tightened around his fliers. it's one thing for them not to be interested, but for them to ignore him like this is another.

for a moment there was a flutter, no one was coming out or going in. he took the opportunity to catch his breath, closing his eyes.

"one... two... three..." he whispered to himself, focusing on the soft whistle of the wind.

when he opened them again, he saw a figure facing him approaching the doors of the art building behind him. y/n thought to himself that this was fate, that this boy was almost arriving with a glittering halo of light behind him, signifying y/n's last chance. he took this opportunity and approached the guy, feeling confident.

"hey, how's it going? i'm handing out fliers about globa-..."

a brief gust of wind caressed the skin of his face. again, no response. the boy stalked his way, his headphones screwed to his ears, only giving y/n a small glance. he stood there, watching the boy's back as he walked away. he finally admitted to himself that this time, his pride had been shattered into a thousand pieces, and someone had come to trample it right after. he noted in a corner of his head that he didn't like the idea at all. but it was without realizing it that his legs responded alone, quickly approaching the young black-haired student. he patted him on the shoulder vigorously and handed him the previously crumpled paper in his hands when the latter turned around.

Mark, on his side, put on a bewildered face, one eyebrow raised. he was sure that he had deliberately ignored this boy just a few seconds ago. his day was not starting very well. his dog had chewed on his last pair of freshly bought shoes, his roommate — Donghyuck — had finished his favourite cereal and the hot water had been turned off on his floor. then finally his bus... never came, so he set out to walk to the university, realizing halfway there that his wireless headphones were out of battery. he'd wasted about ten minutes buying wired ones just to survive the rest of the day. and it was also at that very moment, coming out of the convenience store, that he promised himself he'd keep a spare pair of headphones in the bottom of his bag, just in case.

he took out one of his headphones, and uttered an extremely nonchalant "what? i'm late." he didn't mean to sound mean or disapproving, but the day was already taking its toll on him. he almost wondered what kind of people were picking on him so much, and for what reason? had he been too mean to the salesman last night, when he asked him to get out of the store because Mark was singing EXO's music at the top of his lungs? was he too dismissive of his singing teacher when she told him to stop doing 'too much'? and then, what do you mean 'too much'? Mark really didn't like that word, even less when it described his singing.

y/n, on the other hand, waved the paper in front of his nose. he was frustrated with his morning, especially with the way people responded to him. and especially the way Mark said 'what'. he wondered why people were in such a bad mood in the morning. he let out a breath to regain his composure before starting.

"before you cut me off, i think taking this won't hurt you. i'm really passionate about this cause, so i will give you this flier. and if i have to shove it down your throat, i'll do it." he pressed the piece of paper against the boy's chest in front of him. "thank you, and have a great day."

y/n bowed before rotating drastically, turning his back on Mark. he put his hand on his heart, which was now pounding in his chest. not because the black-haired boy was a living god, but because he felt he was getting carried away and tangled up in his words. how people see him matters a lot to him, even if he doesn't talk about it much. and he knew that this interaction was going to play over and over in his head tonight and keep him awake.

"what a fucking weirdo..." Mark muttered once y/n was far enough away.

he clutched the flier in his hands before resuming his journey to his class, which was really about to start. what do you mean 'i'll shove it down your throat'? he shook his head from left to right, pushed open the door and quickly dashed down the left corridor, hitting someone in the shoulder on his way.

Mark hardly turned around, just to give a weak look to the brown man who was bending while getting lost in excuses, and he took a quick walk to room 208. once in front of it, he opened the door and quickly sneaked to his place, at the back left of the room, managing to pass out of the radar of his teacher, who hadn't even noticed his absence until then.

once seated, he took out some of his things, not forgetting his bottle of fresh orange juice, something he bought every Tuesday morning to give himself luck during that long day. Tuesdays were never really his days, always bad and gloomy. he wasn't superstitious, but if Tuesdays could disappear completely, his world would be much better.

as he took his notebook out of his backpack, the flier given to him by y/n slid silently to the ground. Mark bent down to pick it up, not failing to roll his eyes as he placed it back on the table. but his eyes were drawn to a large headline.

"THE WORLD IS SLOWLY ENDING, BUT YOU'RE THE HERO, RIGHT?"

he chuckled silently, before turning the paper over to see the back, finding that there was nothing written on it, and crumpled it up in his hand before tossing it into his backpack. saving the world was not in his plans. not today. 

maybe tomorrow... who knows? and he did. he saved y/n's world, in some sort of way the day right after.

"it will serve you better than me."

y/n blinked a few times, frowning in front of his phone, which was playing a summer song, although outside, it was raining damn heavily. he wondered if the voice came from someone talking to a friend behind him, or from his headphones. but the whistle sound in his right ear brought him back to reality. he let out a faint "i'm not a fucking dog-" before looking at the umbrella someone was holding upon his head, then at a guy with brown hair. it takes some time for y/n to connect the dots — maybe because of some sort of poor eyesight — but when he does, his mouth opens up wide.

"you're the guy from yesterday that said "what" so nonchalantly it made my day way worse than it was already !"

Mark rolled his eyes. "i'm trying to save the world, being a hero, i'm landing you my umbrella." with a devilish grin, he removes the umbrella from above y/n's head. "but if you want, i can leave too."

"i'm surprised you read that flier you hated so much." he mutters.

y/n did not know if he should accept, but after all, it won't kill him and it will keep him from getting sick. even though he loved hanging out in bed instead of going to class, getting sick was one of the things he hated the most.

"thanks a lot... um... what's your name?"

"Mark."

he took the umbrella and put it over his head while nodding, repeating Mark's name quietly like he was getting used to it. their eyes met again before Mark got swept away by Donghyuck's reminder that the bus was there and it wouldn't wait for them. he let himself be swept away, and a minute later, y/n's silhouette evaporated in the distance, through the mist on the bus windows.

Mark was lost in thought. and he noticed that his name sounded pretty coming out of y/n's mouth.

[sungbeam]

𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝

nonidol!eric sohn x f!reader

1.7k words, YO! SUGGESTIVE, college au, kissing, swearing, mentions of drinking, the bra comes off but nothing explicit (uh minors... DNI), his shirt comes off, barely proofread bc i wrote this on impulse and tis late for me

a/n: i let my impulsive and intrusive thoughts win.

Hands—his hands were everywhere. Anywhere he could fit his palms, his fingers against and into—every curve and crevice would not be leaving untouched. He burned his prints into your skin, signed his name with his lips, tongue, voice.

"This okay?" He murmured against the column of your throat. He could probably feel the way your pulse raced at his touch as you arched yourself into him.

Your breath hitched, his lips pressing feather-light kisses, his fingertips dancing along the bottom hem of your shirt. "More—more than okay," you exhaled, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He gave a groan of approval from the hollow of your throat, then swiftly moved back up to capture your lips for himself and steal your breath away.

(before.)

"Yn." At the feeling of a nudge to your side, you turned to your friend Jisung whose face was fitted with the widest, shit-eating grin. "You know that guy's been checking you out all night, right?"

He inclined his head toward your 4 o'clock, and you curiously followed his gaze to see what he was talking about.

You caught sight of him across the room—red ball cap, white dress shirt with nearly half the buttons undone, exposing the smooth skin beneath and the chain hanging from his collar. He nodded at you, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he smiled.

Your heart went and did a row of cartwheels.

You and Jisung had come with a group of friends to this one party tonight. There were no expectations, really, only that you had all Rock-Paper-Scissored and Felix was forced to DD. Jisung and you had lost the others pretty fast, but you hadn't minded the bit of one on one time you got with him. (You liked to claim you didn't have favorites, but Han Jisung was a little difficult to not love.)

"You know him?" Jisung asked you after draining whatever was left in his plastic cup. He gave a grimace at the burn down the back of his throat.

"Uhm yeah, actually." You smiled, lifting a brow. "Eric Sohn. Plays shortstop for the uni baseball team." Yeah, you knew him, alright. You never missed a baseball game, even since high school, and that tradition had yet to stop in college. Sometimes, you would even go with your other friend Seungmin, if he had time. It was something that reminded you a lot of life in your hometown, where all your closest friends would hit the neighborhood field to play a round or two. Of course, constantly being in the stands meant that someone was bound to notice your presence.

Maybe he'd finally figured out you weren't there for anyone in particular.

A crease formed between Jisung's brows. "What the fuck's a shortstop?—You know what? I don't need to know," he said with a shake of his head. He turned his body toward you, extending his hand, "Dude's coming this way, so I won't step on your toes."

You passed Jisung an incredulous look, but clasped his hand with yours. "Just say you don't wanna cockblock me, Ji."

He laughed. "Hey, you said it this time, not me! Use protection, my friend," he teased, patting you on the shoulder before taking his leave and melding with the crowd.

You rolled his eyes, but your heart still thundered in your chest. Jisung said Eric was on his way over to you, and you were a little nervous to turn around and look—

"I've kind of been wondering about something."

Here he is. You whirled around and came face to face with the man in question. From up close, his jawline was even sharper than it looked from all the way up in the bleachers, his hands veiny all the way down his forearms. And his shirt seemed to be hanging on just enough to leave something for the imagination, but you were sure your imagination would be pretty on the nose anyway. His smile was even prettier this close and there was something boyish about its edge that threw you for a loop. He braced an arm against the wall next to you, and you saw the glint of his silver watch and the rings adorning his fingers.

"And what would you be wondering?" You prompted with a small tilt of your head.

"What's a girl as pretty as you doing alone all the time?" He asked. "I've been racking my brain for an explanation, and none of my teammates say they know you."

"Maybe I'm just looking for a good time," you replied airily, leaning toward him slightly. Then it came to you, the replays of him on the field, the way he so effortlessly caught your attention like he turned double plays. "And someone who knows what he's doing, I suppose."

His smile widened a sliver, following your lead. "And what can I do to prove to you that I do?"

You could smell the expensive, but subtle cologne lingering on his skin and clothes over the smell of the party around you. Your eyes darted down to his lips and you saw him do the same to you. "Come a little closer and find out."

(now.)

He was addicted to the taste of you—couldn't stop and didn't plan to stop until he traced every inch of you with his mouth. Eric had lost his cap at some point between meeting you and getting you alone in this room. It was dark, it was hot—you were hot. Your skin was on fire, there was sweat dripping down the back of your neck. Your hands were in his hair, but he wanted them on his body, in his pants, and still in his hair.

You gave a tug as he pressed his tongue into your mouth, a pretty whine coaxed from you. God, you were so pretty. So pretty and perfect and—he couldn't believe you were single.

His nose slotted against yours, his knee sliding between your thighs and keeping your knees from buckling. He kept you up by his own strength and the wall behind you.

You broke for air and he dove for your neck. "Eric," you managed to say between breaths, the top of his head tickling the bottom of your chin.

He hummed, hands squeezing your sides. "I'm gonna stick my hands under your shirt," he rasped when he pulled back to look you in the eyes, a silent question of permission.

"Be my guest."

"You're cute," he chuckled, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips.

You smiled. "I can say the same about you." You reached for his face with both of your hands, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin as his hands inched up under your shirt. "Now let me eat you up, Eric Sohn."

You could taste his laugh on your tongue. "Mmh—fuck, I like the—the sound of that."

And you were all too soon consumed and suffocating on him again, choking on the feel of muscle beneath your hands that moved to grip his shoulders; ascending, as he pressed himself against you, until no air existed between your bodies. Your mind was blank, all that laid upon your tongue was his and his name.

Eric, Eric, Eric…

"Can I take your shirt off?" You asked between kisses, catching his bottom lip between your teeth for a spell.

His forehead rested against yours, noses slotted beside each other. He braced an arm against the wall by your head while the other wrapped around your waist. "Oh my god, please."

Lazily, he kissed you again, and he somehow made your toes curl even more.

He would turn his eyes downward to watch your fingers slide each button out of its slit, the curtains of his white shirt slowly falling open. And he would find your lips again, one kiss rewarded for each buttoned freed.

Eric shrugged the garment off and it fluttered to the floor. With your eyes adjusted to the dark and the minimal light streaming in from beneath the door, you could trace the hard lines of his arms and stomach. Line by line.

"You're beautiful," you blurted out suddenly. Inwardly, you winced; dear god, you hoped you didn't just kill the mood.

Instead, though, he giggled. No one had ever called him beautiful before, at least, not to his face. Eric cupped the back of his neck with boyish glee, then moved to hold your cheek. "I'm gonna kiss you for that."

That was so fine by you.

He made good on his word and dove for your mouth, expertly catching the back of your head with his hand for cushion against the wall. And if you hadn't had the wall for support, you were certain the force of his kiss would have you bending over backwards.

Your fingers dug into his arms for good measure. Heat pooled in your belly, a fire that kept you fueled and was fanned by Eric-motherfucking-Sohn.

He groaned into your mouth, an awfully delicious sound. "Bra clasp? Wanna feel you, baby."

As everything seemed to be, permission was granted immediately.

His fingers flew up your shirt again and cupped you through your bra. You felt him wrap around your body, nimbly flicking at the clasp—

There was a hurried and loud knock on the door, and you both jolted in surprise.

"Occupied!" Eric barked, hands stilling over the place where your strapless bra had been two seconds ago.

"Eric? It's Kevin! It's an emergency." Someone's voice—Kevin's—echoed through the locked door. He didn't even bother to jiggle the handle.

You saw a muscle feather in his jaw, and he carded a hand through his damp, dark hair. Conflict flickered in his eyes, from you, to the door. "One minute, hyung."

You heard footsteps retreat from outside.

Eric leaned down and scooped up your bra and his shirt from the floor, handing you your garment with a sigh. "Sorry for cutting this short," he murmured, cupping the back of your head affectionately.

Your smile was easy, and you swiftly reset your clothes and hair. "Don't worry about it. It sounds important."

"If it's Kevin, then it probably is," he agreed. He'd finished buttoning up his shirt halfway.

When you reached for the doorknob, Eric spun you back around towards him and swooped in for a kiss that made your head spin around. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, a last taste for now. "I'm not done with you yet, though, Yn."

You bit back your grin. "I was betting on that, Sohn."

read the sequel here!

tbz m.list

[shakeyloner]

Here is a college paper I wrote about BoJack Horseman having BPD for my psychological disorders class about the depictions of mental and mood disorders.

The teacher was an actual clinical psychologist and I got a 100, with the average being an 86% so take that as you will.

A Critique of the Depiction of Borderline Personality Disorder

Of Character “Bojack Horseman” in Netflix’s “Bojack Horseman”

PSYCH-433

By: (You Don’t get to know)

4/3/2024

“BoJack, just stop. You are all the things that are wrong with you. It’s not the alcohol, or the drugs, or any of the shitty things that happened to you in your career, or when you were a kid. It’s you. Alright? It’s you.” (“BoJack Horseman” Episode 310). Although this is something you should never say to someone with any mental illness, it seems to encapsulate what Borderline Personality Disorder and BoJack Horseman’s apparent struggle with it throughout the series. Although an animated“comedy”show about an anthropomorphic horse who was a past star in a 90s sitcom, now living life as a washed-up star may not sound like the greatest representation of Borderline Personality Disorder, throughout the six-season story, we are able to see how BoJack’s relationships can be affected by it, along with items in his past that could have brought it about.

Let’s start with how BoJack fits the DSM description of BPD, and how he might not. The requirements within the DSM require to show 5 (or more) symptoms of 9 presented. These include: Extreme reactions to abandonment, whether real or perceived; a pattern of intense and stormy relationships with family, friends, and loved ones, ranging from idealization to extreme dislike; Impulsive and often dangerous behaviors; Recurring suicidal behaviors or threats, or self harming behavior. Intense and highly changeable moods, Chronic feelings of emptiness; inappropriate or intense anger, and stress-related paranoid thoughts or severe dissociative symptoms. BoJack checks lots of these boxes, so let’s go through each one, and give an example if it applies.

BoJack is incredibly afraid of abandonment. It is shown several times throughout the series that he is scared when people he knows leaves, such as his half-sister Hollyhock, who after trying to distance herself from him tells him that he is forcing himself into her life, as he becomes a professor at the college she attends. However, nothing is more apparent of his fear of abandonment than his relationship with his roommate Todd. He constantly puts him down, as to keep him to stay at his house indefinitely. This is most apparent when Todd presents his Rock-Opera. BoJack, as his friend, tells him, “That was, and I don’t say this lightly, worse than a hundred September 11ths”. However, once the Rock Opera seems like it might be picked up, and Todd might become successful and leave his house, BoJack sabotages Todd’s chances by getting him addicted to a video game he played as a teenager, which makes Todd fail his pitches to possible producers.

BoJack’s stormy relationships are about half of the show and I could likely fill three pages of just this. He has an on-again off-again relationship with his Agent, Princess Carolynn. His relationship with his roommate, Todd, is often broken based on the consequences of his actions, along with those of his friend and ghost-writer Diane. A romantic relationship with a co-star turned rocky when he nearly choked her to death, as she wanted to leave him, and wanted him to stop with substance abuse. Finally, his relationship with what could be considered best friend, Herb Kazzaz, ended with them not speaking for twenty years after Bojack “stabbed him in the back” while not defending him from media heat. Herb was a comedian who helped start BoJack’s successful career, being a writer for the show he starred in, and despite being his best friend, when the media found out that Herb was gay, leading to his removal from the show, BoJack did nothing to stand up for him, because it believed it would affect his professional career.

He has a terrible sense of self, constantly asking himself, “Am I a good person?”, flipping from wanting to be a star and do more shows to rejecting offers, and leaving projects mid-shoot. In season 1, he approaches his friend Diane, asking, “I need you to tell me that I’m a good person. I know that I can be selfish and narcissistic and self-destructive, but underneath all that, deep down, I’m a good person, and I need you to tell me that I’m good, Diane… Tell me, please Diane, tell me that I’m good…”. Along with that, after catching his life-long dream role, of Secretariat, he leaves the film, mid-production to do something else.

His impulsive and dangerous behaviors are one of the most evident. He goes through several “benders” throughout the show, ranging from alcohol to prescription and hard street drugs. He is known as an alcoholic to his friends and even attends rehab (multiple times), which actually lines up with studies. “In men, borderline personality disorder is more likely to co-occur with disorders such as substance abuse” Along with this he has poor spending habits, such as buying a boat, and an entire restaurant when heated.

He has few, though some recurring suicidal behaviors and threats. This is evident through him driving with his eyes closed accelerating on the highway while letting the wheel go, and when he tells a current girlfriend that unless she tells him that she loves him, he’s going to hang himself, albeit in the form of autoerotic asphyxiation. This may be one of the symptoms he shows the least of, however, because although he is depressed throughout much of the show, suicide is never really his answer to it, rather filling his life with drugs and alcohol.

He does have very changeable moods as well. This is often seen through anger, which I will also cover number 8 with this, that he will be fine one minute, then filled with rage the next, such as yelling at someone over muffins in a grocery store, or going on rants when someone puts pressure on him or he doesn’t get what he wants. Very rarely does this turn into physical anger or abuse, most of the time resulting in him taking drugs.

His feelings of emptiness and boredom seem to create tons of his problems. He has the need to fill his life with something, but he doesn’t know what. He sometimes wants to get back into filming shows, but fails to go through with that, and fills his life with whatever he can. He has rewatched his own sitcom several times to deal with this boredom, and his emptiness can be described through his quote, “you’re going to do everything in your power to fill that hole with friends and your career and meaningless sex, but the hole doesn’t get filled. And one day, you’re going to look around and you’re going to realize that everybody loves you, but nobody likes you, and that is the loneliest feeling in the world.” (“Bojack Horseman” 305).

Finally, are stress-related paranoid thoughts or severe dissociative symptoms. This is the entirety of episode 511, “The Show-Stopper”. The entire episode shows BoJack’s inability to discern reality from the TV Show that he is filming. He believes that someone in the real world is out to get him, despite it being a part of the show, and the show continues to flip between parallels of BoJack’s personal life, to the show, highlighting him losing touch with what is real and what is not.

Finally, all of this can be attributed to past trauma and relationship to his parents. His father would constantly avoid him, and when he was around, would verbally abuse him, and was even shown getting him drunk. This is after BoJack walked in on him having an affair with his secretary. Finally, he was very absent from BoJack’s life, reflected in the episode “The View From Halfway Down”. While dreaming about a dinner with important people from his life, his father is absent, and is instead represented by the racehorse “Secretariat”, who BoJack idolized as a child, showing he might have turned to the racehorse as a father figure more than his actual biological father. Even more, his mother, though we aren’t given too much, has also shown BPD symptoms, including heavy drinking, mood swings, and the idea of abandonment, when her mother sort of “left” after receiving a lobotomy. This could point to the biological risk factor of BPD, though his environmental factors are much more readily apparent.

The show, given a whole six seasons, gives great room to show how Bojack Horseman displays Borderline Personality Disorder. Although he is oftentimes depressed, and even empty, I feel the show could more highlight this part of the disorder. It is an animated comedy, it isn’t meant to be a perfect one-to-one, and a person not doing anything doesn’t make for a great show, This could be however because his sadness is often too quickly “resolved” through his anger, or his substance abuse. His self image is also up for scrutiny, because although in the earlier seasons he has a very mixed idea of who he is, he begins to settle down later in the series. Finally, his self-harming behaviors. Although he does self-sabotage through things like drinking and substance abuse, things such as cutting or any others are not as apparent. This is also the case when it comes to suicide, only appearing a handful of times throughout the show. Again, this could be attributed to the fact it’s supposed to be a comedic show, and a whole six seasons about a constantly suicidal person doesn’t sound that entertaining. Overall, given that it’s put into Netflix’s comedy section, “Bojack Horseman” does a great job depicting mental disorders, not just in how they affect a person, but also the people around them.

References

Bob-Waksberg, Raphael. (Executive Producer). (2014-2020). BoJack Horseman [TV series]. Torante Television; Netflix.

Borderline personality disorder. (2011). National Institute of Mental Health, U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, National Institutes of Health.

[jomiddlemarch]

For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought

“You’ll be late for practice, Blythe,” Charlie said, once again using Gil’s surname as if they hadn’t known each other since their mothers had had them in lace-trimmed dresses. Gilbert scowled, partly at Charlie’s attempt at bluff heartiness, but mostly at the lines in front of him, which wouldn’t scan. Or rhyme. Or behave in any way as a sonnet should, which Gilbert, who genuinely enjoyed reading Spenser and Donne as much as attending biology lecture, knew well enough.

As Anne would know even better.

Queen Anne, his own Faerie Queene, with her glorious bright hair and her shining eyes, her delicate eyebrows drawn across her fair skin like chalk—

Like chalk. It was drivel. Worse than drivel—senseless and thumping and everything Anne was not. He slashed through the words instead of crumpling up the paper and throwing it aside. He’d wasted too much already, his mother would frown most decidedly and then snort if he admitted what he’d been doing, reminding him the stable could use a good mucking out if he wanted much to do with manure.

Charlie was likely to snort as well, unless he was still doing the Redmond act he’d whipped up after the first fortnight away from Avonlea, right around the time he started growing a mustache and using slang with an affected nonchalance.

The mustache was more convincing.

“We have a little time left,” Gilbert said. Perhaps the answer was to drop the reference to her eyebrows. Nothing rhymed with eyebrows, unless he picked the singular and then used “highbrow,” but Anne would laugh and then offer to never speak of the sonnet to anyone, not even Diana, whom Gilbert was fairly certain would give him credit simply for attempting to write a poem for Anne, rather than the actual product.

Your eyes my North Star, he wrote, then lifted the pen. There was something there, but how her two eyes equaled one North Star was an offense to astronomy as well as being markedly short on iambs and dactyls. 

At the very least, his growing frustration might be useful on the practice field, where the coach often complained Blythe was too careful of his fellows and wouldn’t be prepared when it came time to challenge an opposing team. Charlie leaned in, peered over and managed to read a little before Gil pulled the page back.

“You don’t forget mine own wingéd creature nearly brained you for pointing out she was a redhead,” Charlie remarked.

“She still is,” Gilbert said. “And she didn’t nearly brain me. I had a worse goose-egg from that time Moody chucked a ball at me after Sunday School—”

“She did break her slate,” Charlie said. “Anne of the wings and the whatchamacallit, gleaming albatross—”

“Alabaster, you dunderhead!”

“She had quite an arm on her, we all thought she’d take your head off,” Charlie said. 

“I know. I was there. I still liked her then and I do now,” Gil replied, letting his exasperation with his lack of poetic ability find a release in sniping at Charlie Sloane. Anyone in Avonlea would have understood the satisfaction therein, except maybe for Josie Pye at her Pye-est, as Anne would say. 

“Come on, leave it, go to practice with me and then to the pub,” Charlie said. “Your chicken-scratch epic on Anne Shirley’s orange symphony of tresses will be waiting and maybe you’ll have a better idea. In vino veritas, they say.”

“I’d have to be drunk to keep writing this,” Gilbert said.

“That’s the spirit, Blythe! Come to practice, get pleasantly addled with me, and then see what poetic flight of fancy a pint of ale makes possible.”

Years later, some golden afternoon at Ingleside when the children were all running about in Rainbow Valley and Anne was left to her own devices and a garden that required no deadheading, Gilbert returned home to find her at his desk in the library, squinting as she leafed through a collection of yellowing pages; she had finally embarked upon her long-awaited plan to organize their college memorabilia, which he knew was a polite way of saying clearing out some more space for the latest shipment of books Paul Irving was sending up from New York.

“Does this say ‘albatross,’ Gil?” she asked, her amusement only lightly mixed with the confusion engendered by his poor handwriting. She often said he could have no other career than medicine, given the hand he wrote and the physician’s reputation.

“Alabaster,” he said. “I was a poor enough poet, but I would never have compared you to an albatross.”

“It might have been an allusion to Coleridge,” she said.

“It wasn’t,” Gil replied.

“You poor dear darling man. Boy really, this was our first year at Redmond, yes?” she said, those grey eyes of hers bright, still his North Star though he’d never resolved the quantity issue to his satisfaction.

“Yes. But before you console me too generously, I’ll have you know someone else also thought it read albatross,” he said.

“Who?” she said, a puckish smile on her lips, one that would make Susan Baker shake her head at Mrs. Doctor’s incomprehensible ways and then serve even larger slices of her strawberry rhubarb pie to set the world straight.

“Charlie Sloane,” Gilbert said.

Anne burst out laughing and Gilbert joined her. When they’d both caught their breath, she spoke first.

“That’s me put in my place.”

“Not quite,” Gil replied. “You’re too far away—”

“Shall I fly to you then? For I am a wingéd creature,” she replied.

“You’re a belle dame sans mercy and well you know it, Anne-girl,” he said.

“I can be merciful,” she said. “I’ll show you. I’ll pack all these poetical endeavors away and I won’t show the children until we’re very old and very grey.”

@gilbertsmustache see what thou hast wrought! Or, be careful what you prompt for :)

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

@fatisthenewshape is in charge !!

“Omg I can’t believe how boring his life is. I know he told me before that his life was nothing but I didn’t expect it to be this bad.” Finishing up the paper work from the most boring job ever I pushed my chair in. I wonder what he’s doing in Paris right now. Sure therapy wasn’t intentional but it happened somehow and now I knew I was in his American body. Right when I was about to walk out of the office I heard my email go off. I went back to check and it was yet again another down sizing. Me being good at this job of his wasn’t on the list hit it just meant his boring job was about to get more boring !!

I screamed looking at that computer. “I can’t take this shit anymore!” I slammed the door shut to the office and on the way home grabbed some beer. In the apartment that night I just stared at the glow of the tv. I was only on my first beer and I was already feeling sleepy. I didn’t want to be in this body anymore. This life was so boring !! It was so much more fun when we just talked about transfo….. I sat tight yo on the couch. Maybe this was a way to really live a transformation. Maybe this was the chance I had to really make a change. Pulling up his tumblr account i reread everything he posted. I didn’t realize how many different changes he had written about. But needless to say after couple hours I have decided on the changes I would make. Closed my computer I walked back to the living room and opened up another beer.

It was a couple months of my new ambitious beer drinking that I finally had a beer gut. He has written so many stories about having one that it was odd he didn’t actually have one. This was my first change I was going to make to him. And now here I am. Rubbing this big gut while I’m walking out of this office for the last time. It was now time for me to go onto the next phase of my plan. Destroying his education was right up his ally. He always talked about being dumb. And a dog. Well he needed a job that would fit that role.

I managed to get a job at a Construction site. The work was hard and labor intensive. I sweat all day and I smelled like crazy. But I kept drinking my beers and continuing on the path that I had set for him.

Making so much less made my next changes a little hard. One of the things he fantasized about clearly was tattoos and I wanted to make sure he had them. But the massive decrease in pay from the corporate world made it hard. I started asking some of my coworkers about the I tattoos and before I knew Indians out they was an artist and was offering to give me some at a discount

It was long before I was making daily visits to get as much ink as possible on his body. I was loving how fast his body was getting covered in tattoos. And the looks that people were giving. I was soon looking like a walking piece of graffitied skin. I began to do other things. Like adding gauges to hjs ears. One I had them completely obliterated to the point of now return I knew that his physical changes had to come to a close.

For the next part in his journey I decided to delve deeper into one of his stories tropes that he wrote about alot. Problem was that I wasn’t willing to do any of the work. I found myself on the dark web one night and with a couple thousand dollars and his social security number it wasn’t long before the stranger had logged into the federal system and began to add charge after charge to his record. Drugs, possession, firearms. He was making this man a low life thug criminal and now there was nothing he would be able to do about it. He would be able to find the chat rooms or anything to get this resolved. I even perfected his signature and sending a copy to the stranger online he used that to validate the claims of all the charges he was placing on this body. We even managed to invalidate his college degrees and even high school degree. Now he was a high school drop out who went down the path of being a hard criminal. It wasn’t long before his face was being seen all over tv. Armed and dangerous. I was now living the body of a wanted man just like in those stories he wrote. It was t long before the police came and aggressively arrested me. And I just smirked. Bring in prison was going to be the utmost change to his life that would be able to make. And from the sounds of it. With all the charges I had managed to get on his record, he was going to be here for several years. Especially after I admitted to everything for him.