#i am determined to get on with it though. exams are over in two weeks so i’ll have a couple free weeks then

[mossflower]

Hi! Happy New Year! How’s the Classic Who watch going? Still in the first season, right?

happy new year to you too!! it’s going extremely slowly lol. as in ‘have only just started watching the daleks’ slowly. my excuse for this is that i am also mid-homestuck reread and mid-exam revision and there is only so much my brain can focus on at once

[carbondioxidewater]

Make A Move (Pt. 3)

americanfootballplayer!Sukuna x fem!reader

genre: slow-burn romance, college au, fluff, angst

warnings: none so far

word count: 3k

(-> Pt. 1) (-> Pt. 2) (-> masterlist)

A small gift bag in your hand, you're currently on your way to the football field. You figured it would only be fair to thank Sukuna for his help last thursday. All of your classes were over for the day and after your talk with Utahime - you had a lot of explaining to do after all - you found out that the team had training in this exact period.

Because Utahime is a senior tutoring juniors occasionally - as she had the best score in the mathematics exam last year - she knows about their schedule through a guy named Aoi Todo, who is also in the football team and simultaneously one of those juniors she tutors. You don't know how she keeps up with her own studies, considering she has that minijob at the hotel AND is a tutor on top of that. But she had always been a very determined woman and luckily, she only tutors every few weeks.

When you arrived, the team was just getting ready to start. You looked around the area to find that distinct pink haired guy you were here for and when you thought you had found him, he turned around and didn't have those typical tattoos on his face. You were utterly confused to say the least, when all of a sudden you heard a deep voice from behind you.

"Looking for me in your free time?"

You turned around and Sukuna gave you a smug look.

"Actually, yeah." you admitted and his face turned into a stunned one. He didn't expect you to be so blunt about it.

"I just came to give you that." you added and reached him the small bag.

"What's that?" he asked, mustering it before reluctantly taking it into his hands.

"Just a small thank you for last time." you crossed your arms behind your back and looked up at him, a genuine smile adorning your face. At this sight, he gulped. He examined the gift closely, slowly removing its content. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the chocolate in form of a football, his mind went blank.

"You got this for me?" he quizzed, taken aback by the kind gesture. You couldn't help but chuckle, a small bluff following.

"No, I actually got it for the other pink haired boy over there." And with that, you turned around and pointed at the man you had mistaken for Sukuna a few moments ago.

"'The other pink haired boy?'" he repeated with an amused grin. "Don't tell me you don't know him."

You shook your head.

"I don't. Why would I?" you doubted to which he responded in disbelief.

"Because he's one of the best players of our team?"

"I don't really concern myself with football or who plays it." you confided to him, causing Sukuna to drop his jaw in a state of shock before closing his mouth again in a moment of realization.

"You knew who I was though." he then stated.

"Yes, because you're a well-known womanizer." you rolled your eyes. He just laughed.

"If I am, then why aren't you all over me?"

"I'm resistant to boys like you." you shrugged your shoulders.

"Really? How are 'boys like me'?"

"Let me think." you pretended to be serious, getting into the thinker pose. "Arrogant, insufferable, boring, nasty..." he nodded at every word, occasionally raising his brows amusedly but letting you speak. Sukuna couldn't hide his entertainment, you were truly something else.

"You think so?" He came closer. "Then why did you give me the chocolate? You sure you're not crazy about me, sweet thing?" he smirked and that startled you for a moment, but you composed yourself again.

"Don't flatter yourself. You know it's not like that."

"A man can dream." he sighed and held up his hands in retreat, eyes closed. Once again, you felt your face heating up, when suddenly some of the players on the field headed your way.

"Yo, Sukuna! Hurry up, before you're late again!" someone screamed while coming up to the two of you.

"What do you mean again? I'm never late for training!" Sukuna hissed at him. Then the guy was already next to you, though on the other side of the fence.

"And what happened on thursday?" he asked him to which Sukuna kept silent. Your mind went to work, catching onto his words.

"What happened on thursday?" was your next question, curious because on that day, Sukuna helped you out.

Then another guy followed after the first, answering your question. It was the one that looked so similar to Sukuna.

"He was one hour late to our meeting, delaying the bus drive and our whole timetable and all!" The kind looking boy unfolded and now that he was closer to you, he looked like a boyish version of Sukuna, who was rather mature in contrast. His words left you speechless though, Sukuna prioritized your safety over football? You couldn't believe your ears.

"Yeah yeah yeah, and now I'm never hearing the end of it." Sukuna complained while the others laughed at him.

"Deserved." The black haired one said.

Then Sukuna took the opportunity to introduce you to each other, exposing the one with the black hair as Todo and the other one as Yuji. The two seemed to be extremely surprised at Sukuna's action for whatever reason, stammering sceptically while greeting you.

But that was not what caught you off guard, it was the way your name rolled off Sukuna's tongue. Now that you heard it slipping from his lips, you noticed you don't reckon telling him your name, so how did he know? You instantly glanced at him and when you did, he already met your gaze, a knowing smirk on his face.

"Anyways, hurry now or we're starting without you!" the two boys exclaimed to which he responded with a simple "I'm coming, dammit!", walking after them while all three of them grinned.

And with that, the athletes said their goodbyes. You returned, leaving slowly but surely. Sukuna, though, halted for a split second, calling out your name once more. He was definitely doing this on purpose.

"Hey! We're not done with that conversation!" he shouted and you inwardly agreed, wanting to confront him about the new found information that was revealed to you.

"Is that a threat?" you screamed back and he beamed at you.

"It's a promise!"

And then he turned around, running after his teammates. You couldn't help but start growing a wide smile yourself.

In the distance, you could see them teasing Sukuna about something, but you couldn't catch their voices.

It was the next day and you were sitting in your linguistics class that was about to start in a few minutes, busy reading through the endless pages of text you were supposed to read at home. Thankfully, your lecturer was not there yet, but you still cursed yourself for not starting earlier, positive that you wouldn't finish reading it in time.

Focused on skimming through the text, you jumped when suddenly someone plumped down the seat right next to you. It couldn't be your friend who typically sat there, because she was sick this week. Of course, it was Sukuna.

"Can you stop doing that?" you hissed, still recovering from the shock.

"Where would be the fun in that?" his pearly whites flashed you.

"Why are you even here? Mixed up the classes?"

"Nah, but we have unfinished business."

"So you thought this was the right place and time for that?" you remarked sarcastically, but he replied with a careless "Yeah."

Shaking your head, you took a quick look at the time before taking the opportunity to confront him.

"Why didn't you tell me you had to be somewhere else on thursday? I would have been fine. I hope you didn't get in trouble..."

Finally talking about what left you nosy after yesterday's events, you wondered if he didn't have any classes himself. But that shouldn't bother you. You've had a hard time doing your homework and falling asleep the previous night due to Sukuna's selfless act, unable to stop your mind from wandering to said topic. You truly wouldn't have expected that from him.

"You know my reasons already, it was my decision. It was nothing your little gift couldn't have fixed." he flirted and you puffed. "I texted them I had to take care of something first and in the end, we still won. None of them was actually mad at me, so don't worry about it." he assured you and that soothed you a little.

"Next time, I'm declining your offer." you informed him.

"Next time, I'll make sure you're at the game then. Can't keep me from the game when you're at it." he smirked and you sighed. He was so annoying.

"I already told you I'm not into football."

"Yeah, about that...that has to change. Can't let you walk around not knowing who the heroes of our campus are." he exaggerated.

"Speaking of which, how do you know my name?" you finally had the chance to ask him that.

"Wouldn't you like to know? Maybe I should leave it to you to figure it out, like you did to me." he suggested, referring to you lying about sharing a class with him when you first met. The puzzled look on your face was enough for him to break out in laughter.

"But I'm not cruel like that. I know Utahime from Todo, I just didn't know she had a roommate. So when I asked him about it, he remembered your name from some of her stories. He didn't know who you were though."

So you both used the same method, the same opportunity to find out about each other? What are the chances?!

"You know Utahime?" Those were news to you. She would have told you if that was the case, you were sure of that.

He shook his head.

"Not in person, I just know she tutors Todo."

"You're unbelievable." you were shocked that he put so much effort into getting to know you.

Everything you've learned about Sukuna in the past few weeks truly surprised you. You thought he was just a big asshole that only cared about himself and had a shallow personality, but the more you got to know him, the more you realized you actually felt somewhat comfortable in his presence. Not that you would tell him that, of course.

"I know." he winked. "So, what do you say? You coming to my next game this weekend?"

"Didn't you have a game last weekend already?" And in that moment, your professor barged in.

Shit! You haven't finished reading the text yet!

"Oh you have a lot of learning to do. We have one every week of the season."

But before Sukuna could carry on his lecture on football, you tried convincing him to give you this lesson another time, internally stressed about your still due obligation of reading the text. But he was stubborn, not willing to comply until you pledged to come to his game this saturday.

The loud discussion in the otherwise so quiet room has ultimately drawn the attention of your lecturer, who quickly noticed that Sukuna didn't belong in this class.

"Mr. Sukuna, aren't you in the wrong place?" the professor voiced.

Sukuna apologized, claiming he only needed a minute before turning back to you again, everyone's eyes on the scene in front of them now. The lecturer was taken aback by Sukuna's boldness, but seeing as the period hasn't even started, he let it slide.

"Please, go already!" you pleaded whisperingly, shoving him a little but he didn't back down just yet. Thankfully, both the professor and the students started preparing for class, the noise slightly concealing your conversation and taking the focus from you.

"I'm not leaving until you promise me to come."

He pushed and you gave in, not daring to face the consequences if you didn't, and especially not wanting to make this situation even worse let alone hold up the whole class.

"Okay, okay! I'm coming! Now go!" And Sukuna grinned.

"That's what I wanted to hear, princess." he moved closer towards you, his lips right next to your ear. "Keep a lookout for number 9, he'll score the winning goal." he whispered deeply and finally stood up, excusing himself.

You let out a breath you didn't know you held and noticed some girls shooting daggers at you. You almost forgot how popular Sukuna was and that made the whole scenario the more embarrassing for you. It was in that moment that you realized what it meant to be around the campus heartthrob Ryomen Sukuna.

Home. Finally home!!!

You thought the day would never come to an end when during all of your classes, Sukuna occupied your every thought. You didn't know what to feel, you knew he was this big ladykiller who you'd never involve yourself with usually, though at the same time, he was caring and attentive and easy to talk to.

You discarded your bag into the corner of your room and freshened up a little. Shoko would come over soon and together with Utahime, the three of you would have a long due girls night again. Movies and gossip with your two best friends - what could be better.

All of you were sitting in Utahime's room now, you didn't have a living room because your apartment consisted of only two rooms plus a bathroom and a kitchen. You didn't complain though, you were already lucky enough to have two separate rooms, many dorm members have to share one.

Shoko was even luckier and lived alone. You always switched between meeting at Shoko's place and yours. Although Shoko didn't have a big apartment, her bedroom was kind of small, so she visited you more often than you visited her.

You were in the middle of telling them the tea and they already tried to persuade you into thinking that Sukuna was interested in you. You just rolled your eyes.

"It's NOT like that! Trust me!" you insisted, but they didn't sound convinced.

"He invited you to his game?" Shoko promted.

"And didn't back off until you said yes?" Utahime's mouth fell wide open.

"I don't know, this all sounds pretty much like it is to me." Shoko was certain.

"I'm not sure, he's really nice and to be honest, different from what I thought." you admitted.

"Just be careful. His reputation speaks for itself. Don't let him fool you." Utahime then added.

"Don't worry, I won't." you sighed.

"Maybe he's just the type of guy who gets off on your 'unreachable' demeanor." Shoko wondered, tapping her chin with her finger. Your face cringed at the thought.

"Even if, it's not like I don't know better than to be cautious. I'm not playing into his game and I'm definitely not going to be one of his conquests. I could never see myself being involved like that with him." you declared confidently.

It was true, you wouldn't fall for his advances, you weren't naive. Maybe you've doubted it for a split second, but you always knew what his goals probably were. And you were thankful for your girls for reminding you.

"It's for the best, really. He is really attractive, but his reputation is just not it. If he ever makes a serious move on you, please run." Utahime concluded, disguising her sincerity with laughter. You could read her like a book however and knew she just deeply cared about you.

"I can't go alone to the game though. Are you by chance free on saturday and would join me?"

"What type of question is that, it was crystal clear from the beginning that we would come with you! Excuse me?" Utahime announced, seemingly offended and you all broke out into laughter.

Oh, how you loved your friends.

A few days before the game, you walked to one of your classes again. This time, you were prepared. You had read the text at home and the phenomenon 'Ryomen Sukuna' didn't distract you from it. You were on your way into the building when you saw a big bus in the parking lot in front of it. It was unmistakably for the football players, you saw Sukuna and his team in the distance. Suddenly, someone bumped into you.

"Oh shit, sorry! Hey, I know you!" It was Yuji.

"Oh, hi! Are you on your way to the bus?" you asked him.

"Yeah! We have an away game again this week!"

"Oh yeah, I know, I'll be there! Good luck!"

"Oh you will? That's nice! I hope you'll enjoy our game then!"

"Thank you! By the way, I'm sorry for interrupting your training last time. I could see you and your friend were quite irritated." you scratched your head in agitation. Yuji seemed confused.

"Hm? Oh! No, sorry if we left that impression! It wasn't you, it's just that Sukuna never really introduced a girl to us before! That was strange!"

What?

His words shocked you. You wanted to know what he meant by that, after all, Sukuna had something going on with a lot of girls already. But before you could consult him, he already set off.

"Oh shit, I have to hurry up, they're already getting inside the bus!" he stressed.

"Oh, yes of course! Uhm, please tell Sukuna good luck from me. A-and the rest of the team too of course!" you passed the message on to him.

"Will do!" he beamed at you and ran off. He was so fast that it didn't take him long to reach the bus.

In the background, you could see Sukuna looking at you through the window. He was already in the bus, his chin in his hands when he winked at you. You winked back.

Great, you thought, you successfully failed keeping Sukuna from your thoughts.

Here's part 3!!! Wasn't content with it for a while, and I've been busy. But now I like it! Omg omg so excited for all the ideas I still have for this story. Next part will be about the first game we're at! Sukuna in action (WOHOOO)! Let me know what you think! <3

taglist: @miakxn @aureliaborea @nonamevenus @silkija @sad-darksoul @joh-ahae @weareundead

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 19: GATHERING EVIDENCE

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Trying to do the right thing by his mother though who, by now, had managed to manipulate Max into trusting her more than his father, he picked up his phone and texted her.

"I think dad is having an affair again," he wrote, biting his lip nervously after hitting send but Danielle didn't reply immediately.

"I know," she eventually responded before taking a deep breath. It took her some time to fully grasp the gravity of the situation.

For weeks, she had suspected that Cillian was unfaithful, but neither could she prove it yet nor did she know who he was sleeping with.

Just 24 hours ago, Cillian denied her suspicion when she had confronted him, resulting yet in another fallout where Cillian prevented her from hurting herself again. After that, she chose to keep quiet, pretending that everything was just fine while secretly plotting her revenge. 

"Do you know who with?" Danielle then texted her son, trying to remain composed despite the anger boiling in her veins. 

"No, but whoever she is, she wears the same perfume as Y/N I think," Max replied honestly, placing his phone on the toilet seat.

The bathroom was warm and cozy, but his mind raced, consumed by the turmoil brewing outside.

"It smells like her," he added, feeling unsettled as images of a certain pair of eyes filled his mind. "But maybe I am just imagining it because she was here earlier to check up on him and redress his cut," Max typed, hoping to convince himself and ease his anxiety.

"Why did he not go to the clinic to get it redressed?" Danielle asked, her heart sinking into her stomach as her suspicions grew.  

"I think he doesn't want to deal with the hassle of waiting in line at the hospital," Max guessed before finishing up in the bathroom, following which Danielle sat down on the bed at her house, burying her face in her hands.

Surely, her husband would not be cheating on her with their son's ex-girlfriend she thought, not knowing what to believe.

She was paranoid, her thoughts racing wildly as she paced back and forth across the bedroom floor. She knew that accusing Cillian without solid proof again would only push him further away. So, she decided to find evidence instead.

Danielle felt a surge of determination course through her veins as she frantically searched through Cillian's belongings. She rifled through drawers, examined clothing, and even scoured his old phone, desperate for answers.

Then, she pulled out his lap-top, looking at his search and contact history. There was no sign of anything unusual, but she kept searching.

At one point, she saw that he had recently logged on to his old Instagram account which Max had set up for him years ago but which he never really used. He was still logged in and the first person who showed up in his recent searches was you.

Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at your profile picture, frozen in disbelief. Could it be true? 

Danielle read through your posts, scrolling past pictures of you hanging out with friends and she thought to think of innocent reasons as to why Cillian would look at your profile. 

She scrolled on and, eventually, stumbled upon a post from over a year ago, where you tagged Max in a photo of the two of you together, smiling cheerfully. It was an instant wave of nausea that washed over her as she remembered that time Max had introduced you to her and Cillian. That day, she had thought to herself that you were cute, polite, and smart, but little did she know that you would become her biggest enemy.

Meanwhile in London, Max shared some more dinner with his father Cillian before calling it a day. Being at university again, he had an exam the following day and needed some rest.

Yet it was difficult to sleep with the lingering thoughts of you nagging at the back of his mind.

He was lying in bed, wide awake, when he felt a familiar vibration. He looked at his phone and saw that Danielle had messaged him again.

"Do you still have the key to our apartment that I gave you?" she wanted to know urgently.

"Yeah, why?" Max answered quickly.

"Dad is out in the afternoon, shooting a commercial for Montblanc. Can you let the cable guy in at 2 o'clock?" Danielle asked Max and since his parents only recently purchased the unit, he wasn't really surprised by his mother's request.

"Okay, sure," Max agreed, typing the response on his phone following which Danielle thanked him for the help and wished him luck with his upcoming exams.

"Thanks Mum," he finally wrote back before putting his phone aside, not knowing that what his mother was really going to do.

She was going to have cameras installed in various places around the apartment to catch Cillian in the act.

To be continued...

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred

[takingchences]

𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐩𝐭. 𝟗

A descendant of a legendary quirk longs to separate herself from her family name, but first she'll have to confront villains, ghosts from the past, and her growing attraction for Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x OP!fem!oc

Warnings: mature language

series masterlist + my masterlist

After the attack, U.A gave the students the following two days off to rest and recover from their traumatic ordeal. Their first day back, Sana was horrified by the state of their homeroom teacher. Mr. Aizawa was wrapped head to toe in gauze, his eyes mere slits, with both of his arms in casts.

He looks like a freshly dead mummy.

She applauded his badassery and dedication, but after hearing from the others how serious his injuries were, she'd assumed (like a normal person) that the Pro Hero would at least be on bed leave for a few days. Considering how sleep deprived he seemed all the time, she thought he'd be thrilled. Apparently not.

He reminded them that the world famous U.A Sports Festival was drawing closer, and after recent events, all eyes would be on them. But no pressure, right? She balanced her chin on her fist.

Classes resumed like normal, as though USJ never happened. It wasn't until the final bell rang that things got, well, strange. Students from all grades and classes swarmed their classroom door, blocking them in. Shinso made a dramatic appearance, where he proceeded to declare war on their class and challenge the entire Hero Course for a spot. He'd made his intentions of joining the hero course clear very early into their friendship.

From how her classmates had described the entrance exam, people with quirks like Shinso's were doomed from the start. He never stood a chance making it into the Hero Course... until now.

He was determined to get noticed this time around, and Sana was willing to help him reach his goal however she could. She gave him tips to improve his training regimen and offered to spar with him whenever he wanted. The two had lunch together at his usual spot two or three times a week, and spent the majority of it exchanging memes and gushing over cute cat videos. Shinso was funny in a dry, sarcastic way that she appreciated. He was easy to talk to and his laid back attitude put her at ease.

He wasn't ready to join her at her table just yet, but she always kept a seat open just in case.

After finishing her homework, showering, and eating dinner, Sana set her grand plan in motion. Stretching out across her bed on her stomach, with her phone in one hand and a piece of paper in the other, she started typing.

Sent 8:03pm

Hey hotshot

Sent 8:06pm

The fuck

Sent 8:08pm

How the fuck did you get this number

Sent 8:09pm

I'm surprised you're still awake. You walk around like a grumpy old man with arthritic knees so I figured you'd be in bed by six

Sent 8:09pm

WHO THE FUCK IS THIS

Sent 8:10pm

If I told you I'd have to kill you

Sent 8:11

I'd kill you first

Sent 8:12pm

Good luck with that considering you have no idea who I am

Sent 8:13pm

Fuck you

Sent 8:13pm

How the hell did you get my number

Sent 8:15pm

I gave Midoriya an offer he couldn't refuse

Sent 8:16pm

FUCKING DEKU! ILL EXPLODE HIS ASS

Sent 8:16pm

That's kinky

Sana smirked down at the screen as the message bubbles danced, anticipating his reply. She giggled quietly to herself, picturing him stomping around his room throwing a fit. She could practically hear his demonic screeching through the device.

Irritating Bakugou brought her a special type of joy. The only other experiences that could compare were rebelling against her father, or cracking Shoto's mask of indifference. The ability to provoke such intense emotions in someone was addictive.

It took a few minutes for the boy to respond.

Sent 8:21pm

I'm losing fucking brain cells talking to you

Sent 8:21pm

Well I know you only have so many to spare so I'll make this quick

Sent 8:21pm

Train with me

Sent 8:23pm

The fuck

Sent 8:25pm

You know that's not technically a question right?

Sent 8:26pm

Meet me at Yoshida Park at 10:00am

Sent 8:26pm

Fuck off

Sent 8:27pm

You're right. What could you possibly teach me? I'd be better off asking Midoriya

Sent 8:27pm

YOUR ASS BETTER NOT BE LATE OR ILL FUCKING STRANGLE YOU

Sent 8:28pm

Another kink? I'm learning a lot about you Bakugou

Sent 8:29pm

FUCK OFF

Sent 8:31pm

Lmao

Sent 8:31pm

Good night hotshot

The blonde tossed his phone across the room, screaming curses at the unknown number.

"Shut up, ya damn brat!" His mother's loud voice scolded him from downstairs. "Isn't it past your bedtime?!"

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Bakugou walked with purpose towards Yoshida Park. He was familiar with it, having spent most of his childhood exploring the grounds with his followers. It was a short walk, but he'd had all night to plan. The unknown number had disrupted his sleep schedule after all.

First, he'd go to the park and murder whatever extra had been unlucky enough to mess with him. Then, on his way back, he'd pay Midoriya a special visit.

He had a list of suspects he'd been going back and forth on. First on the list was Shitty Hair, but Bakugou quickly realized it couldn't have been the spiky-haired boy. The redhead was putting in a lot of effort to befriend him—even more so after their team up during USJ—but the boy was far too shy. Second and third on his list were Dunce Face and Scotch Tape. They shared one brain cell between them, and both were confident enough to say such provocative things, but not so dumb that they'd ask to meet him face to face afterwards.

They had to know it would only end in bloodshed... theirs to be exact.

That left Raccoon Eyes or Flashlight. He hadn't interacted much with the pink-skinned girl, only in group settings, and even then, she'd barely stop to acknowledge him before getting into shit with Dunce Face or her "wifey."

One by one he marked names off until only one dumbass remained.

He stopped at the entrance of the park, spotting said girl leaning against a tree. Thick lashes fanned out across her cheekbones, her arms loosely crossed. A red and white gym bag was slung over her shoulder. She wore black leggings paired with a cherry red sports jacket, her hair held back by her signature ribbon. Bakugou himself sported his usual baggy black sweatpants and low cut black tank.

Her eyes fluttered open, the jewel-like irises sparkling in the morning sun. "Right on time." She pushed off of the tree. "Have you stretched?"

"I'm not here to train." He glowered down at her, their faces inches apart. Sana's expression remained neutral, but her amusement was obvious in the curve of her lips. "I'm here to kick your ass-"

"Again with the ass thing," Sana tutted, shaking her head in disapproval. "Is that all you can think about?"

"Shut the fu-"

"Language, asshole." she hissed, smacking his arm as a family of four walked by them. Sana gave him a coy smile. "There are children present."

Bakugou was seconds away from blowing a fuse, crackling sounds filling the air as his palms smoked. "Come on," she slid her hand down his arm with a soft, feather-like touch to grab his wrist. "Let's get started."

Bakugou muttered threats and curses under his breath, but continued to follow her to a secluded area with a dense tree line. A few feet ahead, the trees parted to reveal a decent sized clearing. "How did you get that damn nerd to give you my number?" The blonde grumbled, ripping his arm from her grip.

"Oh, that?" She shrugged. "I bribed him with a limited edition All Might collectible." She remembered how flushed the greenette became after she cornered him after class the other day. He'd been a sweaty, stuttering mess until she'd unzipped her backpack and shown him what she'd hidden inside. Seeing Bakugou's pissed off face now, it was definitely worth all the yen.

"... which one."

Sana blinked. His gruff voice was so quiet that she nearly didn't catch the words. The boisterous blonde she'd come to know was now scowling passionately at a tree, but his mouth was... is he pouting?!

Her lips split into a chesshire grin. "My, my. Is the mighty Bakugou secretly a fanboy?"

His brows furrowed even further at the teasing. "Do you ever shut the hell up?" His hair seemed to puff up even more in anger. Cute. "I'm nothing like that nerd!"

"Aren't you the nerdy one, though?" Sana tapped her chin with her pointer finger, eyes rolled upwards as she pretended to think. "I'm pretty sure you scored higher than him on last week's test."

She smirked in delight as Bakugou's body began to vibrate in anger, his nostrils flaring.

She stretched her body, warming up her muscles in preparation for what was probably going to be one of the hardest training sessions of her life. Bakugou wasn't the type to do anything without giving it his all. It was as admirable as it was daunting. She rolled her shoulders back, her neck popping with a satisfying crack. "Ready?"

The blonde smirked, his hands sparking to life. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

Fighting Bakugou proved to be even more of a challenge than she'd anticipated. He was strong and fast, every movement well thought out and well executed. He was also relentless, refusing to give her any time to recover or even think. It was purely instinctive, forcing her to rely on her reflexes. She was suddenly grateful for the decade of combat training Endeavor had instilled in every fiber of her being.

It was different, to say the least.

She was so used to going up against Shoto. Back when they were still talking, she'd been able to anticipate his movements with one look. Maybe that was part of the problem. Were they so intune with each other that there was no longer room for improvement? Had they reached a point in their training where they were unable to learn from each other going forward?

Sana groaned, returning to the problem at hand. She threw the blonde a dirty look for the particularly hard kick he'd just delivered to her side. He huffed a laugh, his lips parted in a crooked smile. "Not so cocky now, huh?"

"That's funny coming from you." She lunged, finally landing a hit to his jaw. They'd been at it for hours now, and Bakugou showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. There was no way he wasn't as exhausted as she was, but she knew he'd rather die than admit to such a thing. As if being human was equivalent to him being weak.

After another half hour of this, she finally gave up.

"Okay, okay." Sana backed away, holding her palms up in surrender. He stopped mid punch, his eyes narrowed. "Let's take a break."

He clicked his tongue, watching as she approached the gym bag she'd abandoned in the shade, walking back to him and dropping it at his feet. The pastel teen crouched to unzip the bag, removing two towels, some protein bars, and two water bottles. He caught the towel she tossed him with ease, swiping the fabric across his face and jaw. She plopped down on the ground, motioning for him to do the same. With an annoyed grunt, he complied, snatching the water and snack out of her hands.

She shook her head in amusement, knowing he wasn't nearly as frustrated as he pretended to be. "So dramatic," she muttered under her breath.

Surprisingly, the silence between them wasn't uncomfortable. It was actually pretty nice. She could hear the small sounds of nature around them: the low buzz of insects and the soft rustling of tree branches above their heads. It was something she'd never associated with Bakugou before...

Peaceful.

After practically inhaling their protein bars, the two teens laid down on their backs in the grass. The sky had darkened to a dark blue, a few stars already visible.

Sana turned her head to peek at the boy next to her. Both of their chests were heaving lightly, their skin dewy with sweat. He had his arms folded behind his head with his eyes closed. As if feeling her gaze, he cracked one eye open and grimaced.

"What're you staring at?" Even in the limited light, she could've sworn his cheeks were now dusted in a rosy hue.

"Nothing," she averted her gaze, her own face burning under his scrutiny. "It's just... I'm glad you stayed." Sana admitted softly. Never in her life had she felt so bashful. It took everything in her not to squirm uncomfortably as she waited for him to say something. Anything. Bakugou scoffed, his eyes hooded as he watched the sky slowly darken. Sana joined him in stargazing. After a few minutes, the blonde cleared his throat.

"I guess it wasn't a complete waste of time."

Sana snickered. "That was really hard for you to admit, wasn't it?" A tch was his only response, but in the limited light, it almost looked like he was smiling. They stayed like that until the sky glittered with stars, like diamonds against midnight velvet. The two teens climbed to their feet, dusting dirt and grass off of their clothes. Sana called out just as Bakugou made to leave.

"Wait." The blonde turned to glance over his shoulder. The solar-powered girl riffled through her gym bag before pulling out a medium-sized package. "Here," she held it out for him to take. Bakugou removed his hand from his pocket and took the box. Flipping it around, his eyes widened. His jaw loosened in shock.

"The hell...?"

Sana rubbed her neck, avoiding looking directly at the blonde. "I figured I owed you for coming down here." She peeked at him from beneath her lashes. "You don't have that one, right?"

Bakugou clutched the box containing the limited edition Silver Age All Might figurine tightly. He remembered demanding his parents for one as a child. How they'd waited in line outside the store for hours, only for the shelves to be completely empty once they made it inside. How every store they went to was the same: the toy having sold out nationwide just hours after being released.

But here one was, after a decade of searching, in perfect condition... right in the palm of his hand.

"Bakugou?"

He slowly lifted his head, vermillion eyes clashing with dark pink. A million questions raced through his mind. How had she known?

Sana bit her lip to contain her giddiness. She inched closer to him until there was hardly any space left between them. She inhaled the sweet scent of caramel and cologne that always clung to him. "Your number isn't the only thing Midoriya told me," she lifted herself on the balls of her feet, her breath hitting his cheek. "Katsuki."

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

They met up the next day, and the day after, until it became almost routine for them. They'd meet at Yoshida Park, or make the trip together straight after school if neither had plans. It came as a surprise to them both how well they got along when no one else was around. Sure, they still had the occasional spat, but it was mostly playful bickering and teasing to rile the other up. They both had a dark sense of humor, an almost unhealthy competitive streak, and a punch first, ask questions later approach to situations.

One afternoon, Bakugou had to leave earlier than usual. He'd grumbled something about 'dinner with the old hag' before storming off. Sana figured his grandparents were in town or something and decided to take off early too.

She texted Mina, asking her if she was free to hang out. The pinkette responded to her message at lightning speed, sending her the address of a cute new bakery she'd been dying to try. The walk took fifteen minutes or so. She spotted Mina waiting outside, the pink-skinned girl squealing as soon she noticed her. They shared a hug before entering the shop, quickly ordering drinks and a few desserts to share. Mina led her over to a table by the window, her hands clasped under her chin.

"So," she narrowed her black and yellow eyes suspiciously. "Where's your shadow?"

"My what?" Sana leaned forward. Mina followed suit, lowering her voice as if her next words were top secret.

"Bakugou, duh."

"What?" Sana fell back in her chair with a laugh.

Mina waved her hand around dismissively. "You know what I mean. Wherever you are, he's bound to show up sooner or later." The waiter appeared with their order, interrupting the energetic girl before she could go on.

Sana reflected on her friend's words as she sipped on her bubble tea. It was true that Bakugou always seemed to be around whenever she needed him. He'd helped her during the stampede in the halls, as well as telling off that reporter for her. He'd been by her side before the class was separated by the warp villain. While she'd been recovering after the USJ attack, Shoto had briefly mentioned something about her helping Bakugou, though she didn't remember much. The blonde hadn't said a word to her about it, and she'd been too preoccupied with not thinking about USJ.

"I guess I..." she answered softly. "I hadn't noticed."

Mina paused mid-sentence, having already moved onto another topic. Some third year gossip she'd heard from Hagakure, who'd overheard some upperclassman whispering about it during break.

She'd noticed how her friend had been pushing herself harder since the villain attack. How busy she was with training. Mina hadn't been there with her when she was attacked, but she'd seen the damage inflicted on the villains. Afterwards, Kirishima mentioned how strange Sana had acted right before the teachers' arrival. "You'd tell me, right?" Mina pressed, her pretty face troubled. "If something was wrong?"

It was odd hearing the bright, cheerful girl suddenly sound so serious. It didn't fit her character at all. Sana forced a radiant smile, wanting any doubts about her or their friendship to disappear. She trusted Mina, she really did, but she didn't want to burden her with her problems, especially when she was still trying to figure them out herself.

"Of course," Sana assured her. "We're best friends after all."

A scarred, yet handsome face came to mind. She wondered if it was normal for best friends to hide things from each other. In Recovery Girl's office, Shoto had implied that she'd betrayed him in some way. If only she knew what the hell he was talking about.

[gaybananabread]

☾༺Just a Bit Longer༻☽

~So I’ve been brainrotting over RW&RB for a solid month now. The goblins need a walk, and I cannot productivity until they get one. I love these two’s dynamic; they’re just so silly. Not my best work, but writer’s block be damned; I needed to post something this week. This is completely self-indulgent, but if it’s your thing, I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Alex

Ler: Henry

Summary: Alex is overworking himself, going late into the night and working hours without breaks. Sick of his lover’s dreadful work-life management, Henry takes it upon himself to get Alex to sleep.

Warnings: mild Red, White & Royal Blue spoilers! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Life for Alex Claremont-Diaz was the best it had ever been. Henry came over almost daily from his Brownstone, and he finally felt like he had a definite idea of where his life was headed. The only downside: he was still in school.

The NYU Law course was a bit more rigorous than he’d expected, but it was definitely what he wanted. Sure, that meant long, painful hours of reviewing for extremely difficult exams, discovering that tort is a real word, and trying to figure out a system for coursework that didn’t make his brain want to explode.

His sleep schedule was already shit, so he didn’t think any of it would be a problem. If he just pulled a few all-nighters and pumped out some late-night essays, he’d be fine. What he didn’t think about, however, was how Henry would take it.

Alex was working late on another essay, running off of coffee and pure determination. He hadn’t meant to put it off, but with the three exams he’d had that week, his mind was a scattered mess.

Henry had put up with it for most of the night, but as two AM rolled around, his understanding had run dry, replaced by concern.

Knocking the “shave and a haircut” pattern on his lover’s door, Henry entered the room. He was immediately greeted with the strong smell of coffee and desperation.

There sat his boyfriend, hunched over a computer with a half-eaten ham sandwich (he couldn’t handle turkey anymore) by his side. The blonde couldn’t help the sad sigh that escaped him.

Alex looked up, his glasses nearly all the way down on his nose. It was unfairly cute, though Henry shoved that feeling down for the moment.

“Uh…hey, Hen. Not done yet; gimme, like, another half-hour.” Alex’s gaze was back on his computer in seconds.

Henry rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache brew. For once, why couldn’t Alex just use common sense?

“Alex, darling. It’s two in the morning. You need to sleep.”

Alex scoffed, not stopping for even a second. “Says you. You stay up later than I do most of the time.” While that wasn’t untrue, Henry’s problems were because of insomnia. Alex was just a stubborn asshole.

“Look, I’m going to be brutally honest here. You look terrible, you seem exhausted, and the bags under your eyes could fit the entirety of the Royal Wardrobe. Go. To. Sleep.”

Henry laid things out bluntly, crossing his arms. It was meant to leave little room for negotiation, but defying Henry’s expectations was Alex’s special talent.

“This is due at eight AM…uh, today. I’ve only got six hours to finish this thing, but I’m almost done. I promise, just a bit longer.” This would have been more comforting if Alex hadn’t already said that three times.

“Alex, please. If you sleep now, I’ll wake you up at six, and we’ll work on it together. It hurts to see you like this, dear.” He used pet names, trying to sway Alex to listen. It was a last-ditch effort; if he still refused, Henry didn’t have much of a plan left. Sure enough, he did.

“It’s fine, Henry. I’m all good, just a little spacy. I promise, the moment I’m done, I’ll eat your face. Okay, baby?” Alex flipped the other man’s strategy back on him, hoping to fully bury the concern. He was fine: end of story.

For Henry, though, the tale was just beginning. He racked his brain, searching for anything to help him get Alex to cooperate. He could only remember one time anyone was successful.

Alex had invited him to the White House for June’s birthday party. As the night dragged on, everyone but Alex was drunk and exhausted. To tire him out, June had employed some rather…unconventional methods.

Methods that would be extremely useful to him at that moment.

Casually approaching his boyfriend, Henry put a hand on the laptop. Then, after making sure the work was saved, he closed it. He pointedly ignored Alex’s scoff and protests, grabbing his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. Alex still squirmed, though a smile was breaking out on his face.

That was all Henry needed to continue. He gripped Alex under his thighs, lifting the man up and plopping him down on his nearby bed.

A surprised sound left him, his cheeks gaining a nearly imperceptible red hue. He was expecting some push-back from Henry, but nothing this active.

“Just couldn’t wait for me, could you~?” Alex weteased, starting to sit up on the bed. Henry was quick to stop that, grabbing Alex’s arms and pinning them above his head.

Before his lover could make another joke, Henry tapped a few fingers on his side. That shut him up, if only for a second.

“Henry, I swear to fucking god, if you try anything-” He was cut off when Henry squeezed his side, resulting in an indignant squeak.

“Sorry, dear, but I’m afraid I already have~” With that, Henry clawed his fingers into Alex’s stomach, straddling him.

The tired man tried to bite his lip, but the coffee wasn’t quite enough to give him that energy. A few giggles slipped out, quickly followed by tiny curses.

“What’s the matter, Alex? Something bothering you?” Henry chuckled, leaning down further to try and hold him still.

Kicking and squirming, Alex tried anything to get away from the evil fingers. He was tired, though; his brain was moving at half-speed and felt like it was running through soup.

“Gehehet ohoff me, youhuhu prihick!” Henry has decided to move up to his ribs, scritching and scratching between each bone.

Even on a good day, it’d be hard for Alex to get out from under him. With no sleep, coffee fumes and pure spite, he had no chance.

“Why on Earth would I do that? I’m quite comfortable here. Besides, you seem to be enjoying yourself, if that blush is any indication,” Henry taunted, jutting his chin out. He didn’t really need to, but it was a sure-fire way to rile Alex.

“Fuhuhuck off! Hehenry, I swehehear- quihit!” Alex tried to bury his face in his shoulder, though he only drew attention to a new target. Henry leaned down, blowing a raspberry on his boyfriend’s neck. Alex would rather die than repeat the squeal that left him.

“Wow, Alex. Perhaps the Barbara Streisand accusation wasn't so far off,” he teased, his voice about as smug than Alex had ever heard it.

The typically witty man was in giggly shambles, trying his best not to sound like a child. He wasn’t very successful.

“SHUHUhut uhup, youhu douche!!” Laughing like a toddler, Alex was still pumping out insults. Henry was about to put a stop to that. Going for the kill, he hooked his thumbs into Alex's hip divots, kneading and squeezing the area.

That seemed to work quite well.

“GAH- HEHENRY! You- YAHAHA! FAHAHACK!” The law student lost his shit, practically cackling under his boyfriend.

Alex arched his back off the bed, only bucking into the ticklish feeling. There was no room in his mind for witt; the best he could do was “fuck fuck fuck it tickles oh my god-”

Hearts practically formed in Henry’s eyes at the adorably hysteric reaction. Still, as cute as it was, he had a mission.

“This all ends the moment you agree to rest. Or…would you like me to continue? I bet I could just tickle you senseless all night. You’d surely be exhausted then, wouldn’t you?”

Alex couldn’t even get a word out, shaking his head as he laughed. His curls went wild, getting in his eyes and puffing up. Henry wanted to brush it from his eyes, but he had to keep his priorities in order. There would be time for fawning over him later.

“HEHENRY! PLEHE- snrk” It took a solid minute, but Alex’s resolve was weakening. He was already tired beforehand, and laughing his ass off wasn’t helping. The squirming had died down almost completely, snorts slipping into the lax cackles.

While it wasn’t an agreement, the Prince could tell that his lover would be out in seconds. Henry stopped, switching to gentle traces down his sides. The first son tried to calm down, a steady stream of giggles pouring from his lips.

“H-hoholy shihihit… Thahat was evil.” He tried taking some deep breaths, rubbing his cheeks. Alex hadn’t laughed that hard in a while. He was close to just passing out right there, pure exhaustion hitting him like a freight train.

“Possibly. You deserved it, though.” Henry leaned down, gently kissing his curved lips. This sight was one of his new favorites: Alex, his toned skin flushed, practically a puddle of giggles beneath him.

Alex flipped him the bird before melting into the kiss. He weakly pulled his boyfriend down, snuggling against him. He’d all but forgotten about his essay, eyes closed the moment he laid still; the poor guy was wiped. It wasn’t terrible by any means, but all his energy was gone.

Carefully grabbing his phone, Henry set an alarm for six AM.

They’d finish that research paper; he was certain of that. With a bit of sleep, Alex would be a writing machine. True, the slightly rushed grammar would be atrocious, but that’s what Henry was there for. Pulling the sheets up over them both, Henry breathed a happy sigh.

“Good night, love.”

[rpersearch]

Hi there! 

My name is Shiro, and I’m looking for someone who’s just as self-indulgent and passionate as I am for reverse harems. I want someone who enjoys large amounts of men who want to romance our characters and can play upwards of 20 characters, as I will be doing the same. 

Info about me ~ I am a 22-year-old woman (she/her) who lives in EST. I am in university and work, so my responses will vary. However, I try to respond when I can, as role-playing is my hobby. 

Rule #1. You must be 18 or older! I am not role-playing with children. 

Rule #2.  Please be able to respond multiple times a week. Nothing kills my vibe more than waiting for a response every two weeks. I understand we have lives outside the internet, but I’m more likely to forget and become disinterested in the role play as time passes.

Rule #3.  Ladies, gents, non-binary folks: this will be a double-up role play if I haven’t made that clear yet! 

Rule #4. I am a semi-literate to advanced literate role play. BUT don’t force yourself to write more than is necessary. I’d rather have quality over quantity. I’m fine as long as I have something to work with. Now, onto the fun ~

________________________________________

Ouran High School Host Club

Ouran High is a school for the extremely wealthy or, in YC’s case, the highly talented. However, no amount of talent will help when YC accidentally drops an eight million yen vase in a music room. The vase was the property of Ouran High School Host Club, a group of attractive young men who, for a fee, provide their time and affections for their lovesick clientele: the female students. Fascinated by this strange new specimen, a poor and clumsy commoner, they force YC to work for them until the debt is repaid, but they get much more than they bargained for…

Options: 1.2.3.4.5

Hakuoki

Disguised as the opposite gender, YC has come to Kyoto searching for their missing father. This doctor developed a magical elixir that increases the drinker's speed, strength, and healing abilities. Instead of their father, they stumble across a battle between the Shinsengumi and the Furies, evil vampire-like creatures of their own making.

Options: 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.10.11.12

Kamigami no Asobi

YC discovers a mighty sword that transports them to another world. There, this ordinary high school student finds themself face-to-face with the mighty Greek god Zeus, who has an unusual request: remain in the dimension he has created and attend a school of legendary proportions. Zeus acts as dean for a school of young, misguided gods. The bond between humans and gods has weakened, and it is now up to YC to teach the gods about love and what it means to be human.

Options: 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.10

Free!

When Haruka, Makoto, Nagisa, Rin, and YC were in elementary school, they swam together in a relay race and won the match. As Rin was on his way to Australia to train to become an Olympic champion, the gang decided to bury their trophy in a time capsule and retrieve it when they all had grown up. Now, Haruka, Makoto, Nagisa, and YC have reunited in high school and decide to dig up the prize. But on the way there, they run into none other than Rin, and he's determined to show Haru who's the best! As a result of this fateful meeting, the four friends decide to start a swim club, along with fellow classmate Rei, and their rival's little sister Gou as the team manager. Can the gang hold their own against Rin and prove their skills at the Prefectural Tournament?

Options: 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.10.11.12.13.14.15.16.17

Uta no Prince Sama

When YC gets the chance to take the entrance exam for Saotome Academy for the Performing Arts, it seems as though they’re one step closer to their dream of composing songs for their favorite singer, Hayato. However, this is no gleeful high school musical experience, and YC is hiding a dreadful secret that may silence their musical ambitions forever. And even if they do get into Saotome, the competition will be more brutal than going on Japan’s Top Idol!

Options: 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.10.11.12.13.14.15.16.17

Dance with Devils

YC has the perfect school-to-life balance, but all of that’s thrown into chaos when they discover that several of their handsome male classmates are actually demons in disguise.

Options: 1.2.3.4.5.6.7

Amnesia

When YC regains consciousness in an unfamiliar place, they have suddenly lost all memories of everything that happened before August 1. What is this place, and what were they doing there? Who are they, and what sort of life had they lived?

Options: 1.2.3.4.5

Vampire Knight

Cross Academy is a school with a difference: in a unique and experimental setup designed by the headmaster, it has a Day Class consisting of ordinary humans and a Night Class filled with vampires. YC and their friend Zero Kiryu are school prefects whose job it is to make sure the secret of the Night Class is always safe; they patrol the school grounds at night and supervise the switchover of classes at dawn and dusk to prevent any 'accidents' from happening. While Zero is suspicious of vampires and hates the idea of sharing the same space as them, YC admires the Night Class for their beauty and sophistication; they are especially intrigued by their charming leader, Kaname, because he once saved their life. However, as YC quickly learns, not all vampires are amiable like the Night Class, and as terrible events unfold, YC must ask themself whether in a world where vampires are the hunters and humans are the prey, peaceful coexistence can really be achieved.

Options: 1.2.3.4.5.6.7

-

[hwajin]

#!! - 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱 ; ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢs

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, short smut at the very beginning!!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hyunjin x reader, chan x reader

𝐰𝐜: 7.6k

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the party was a week back, yet you couldn't get hyunjin out of your mind. and visiting him at work might have only driven you into deeper confusion, helplesness.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: there's a very short suggestive/ smutty scene in the beginning, other than lots of angst and tension 😼. please please tell me how you like this series and if you liked this chapter!! is it going the direction you expected or differently, when do y'all think are chan and yn gonna break up, will they break up even??? 👁👁 LEAVE YOUR THOUGHTS IN THE TAGSSSS there's nothing i love more than talking about this series <33

series masterlist | next chapter

A whimper leaving your lips, a hopeless one, one that signified a craving for more and for something closer, for any feeling more intense than this, than what you were feeling currently. Because Hyunjin wasn’t possibly near enough to your body, wasn’t closely giving you what you were needing; though the fact alone, to be having him like this in the first place – naked above you, skin against skin, hot breath intertwining intimately – it was already more of what you could ever ask and long for.

Your hand reached further down, fingertips dancing across Hyunjin’s chest, his torso, his abdomen. Taking all of him in, yet feeling too distant, too far away still. Vivid sounds in your ears, of his lust and pleasure, of his desperation; for you and only you, and the thought shot dopamine right through your veins. His face vividly before you, blown out pupils and bitten lips of his prone to make you lose your head, his vivid touch, his grip on your hips infuriating and determined to drive you insane;

And then you opened your eyes. Chest heaving up and down, pupils blown out and a pool of wet between your legs, waking you uncomfortably and reminding you of the embarrassing fact that today counted the second night you have dreamt about Hyunjin. The second night you have dreamt about Hyunjin like this; waking up the next morning feeling lightheaded, needy and wholly perverted because truly, wet dreams about any other than your own partner had to be a violation against some law. The act, though unconscious, feeling so sinful it couldn’t be legal.

A heavy sigh past your lips and you stretched out your limbs, attempts to shake off the morning numbness, wishing you could be staying in bed for another hour or two — the warm sheets and the soft mattress beneath your tired body seemed not too prone to let you go at least, the way they were lulling you back to sleep. You had planned to be productive for the day, to wake up early and get ready, jump on the bus and spend a day in classes, revisiting courses you had been lacking motivation for lately; the work was piling up by your desk already, missing lectures surely wouldn’t come in handy the moment exams stood around the corner.

But you couldn’t seem to get yourself out of bed. It’s been one week since the party; since you and Hyunjin touched and since Chan went to live with Changbin and Jisung. He had come home early in the morning, around six, maybe seven. You haven’t been sleeping; your eyes had been glued to the phone, fingers rushing over the keypad as quickly as they could, booze still coursing your system. You had been texting Seungmin, had called him prior though that had been no use — the party had gone on for a good while after you had left, and even when your friend stepped outside the noise was too prominent over the speakers of the phone. So, you had communicated messaging each other back and forth; you asking questions about who Hyunjin possibly was, who he had come with, Seungmin questioning what in the world had happened for you to leave this abruptly, without saying goodbye.

02:37 AM; seungmin << you looked genuinely happy when you came tonight, wtf happened when you talked to this guy???

02:37 AM; you >> chan happened, hw saw us taljing

02:38 AM; you >> hyunjin was so nicw tho

02:38 AM; you >> not my faulr chab is so jealous

02:39 AM; seungmin << girl

02:39 AM; seungmin << he’s your boyfriend don’t tell me you don’t get his pov

02:39 AM; you << you would have been pissed too

02:45 AM; you >> idk we’ve just been tlking tho

02:45 AM; you >> me and hyunjin

02:50 AM; you >> idk

You had been helpless, the deprivation of sleep, the exhaustion after a party, the alcohol running in your system; it all had been driving you to a state of frustration.

02:52 AM; you >> it was so weird thi

02:53 AM; you >> when I lliek touched him

02:53 AM; you >> hyunjin I mean

02:53 AM; you >> thre was this like

02:55 AM; you >> idk this feeling

02:56 AM; seungmin << elaborate cuz I have no idea what you’re talking about

03:02 AM; you >> idk i can’t explain it min

03:04 AM; you >> it felt so weird when I touched him

03:04 AM; you >> good weird

03: 04 AM; you >> but like out of this world I swear

03:10 AM; you >> i’m scared tbh

03:16 AM; you >> i don’t wanna be the asshole girlfriend and break up with chan, min. i know i still love him but he makes it so hard for me to show that. but I’m scared that if i it i brwak it off with him i won’t be as happy as i was when i started dating him

Not expecting to spill your heart like this over text, not when Seungmin was supposed to be enjoying the party, but you everything but had been thinking straight. Still drunk, still confused by whatever it was that you had felt with Hyunjin, still wary and utterly frustrated that a mere stranger managed to strike your attention and interest so much more intense than Chan ever has. Your boyfriend had come home then, and you had been fighting until the sun was up. You had been pissed that he let you reach home by yourself, he had repeated that his source of anger was Hyunjin, not the fact you had talked to him per se, but the fact you had denied your acquaintance prior only for you to run to the stranger first thing the moment you were left alone. He had called you a liar, you had called him a jealous ass - you had both said things you didn’t mean, and yet they had left your mouths. It had gone back and forth and eventually, under tears and runny noses, messy hair from running hands through it, you had decided that Chan would be living with his friends for a while. It had been his place before you and him moved together, so he had argued it wouldn’t be a big deal; when you had fallen into near hysteria he had made it clear that your relationship wasn’t over, not even on a break. You were simply taking a bit of distance, for a week of two, to clear your heads and come back to your senses. To come back to a relationship both of you were hopeful and eager to work on.

And then the dreams have started. If you were honest, you were glad Chan wasn’t sleeping in the same bed as you when they occurred; it would have been another factor adding to the pile of reasons for arguments. And in general; you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the quiet. It had been quiet all the time prior, surely; Chan had seemingly only pretended to live in the same home as you, the hours he spent at home significantly smaller than the ones he spent in studios. Yet, you now had no feeling, no obligation to wait. No reason to stay up until four hours past midnight, no motive to writhe around in a bed shared only to question when you’d feel a warm body against your own. The quiet was all the same, yet the atmosphere in your own four walls was essentially a different one. Calmer and in absence of pressure or doubts. Nice to not have a shared bed anymore, relieving to have one for your own. The emptiness in it was all the same, but now you had no reason to be sad about a lack of a partner in it. It sort of scared you. That your boyfriend being gone didn’t set off a feeling of longing within you. Though you faulted the night of the party for it.

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but you knew that today wouldn’t be a day for university. Dreading even getting ready and whining out at the thought of sitting in a lecture that you had all but no interest in within the given circumstances wasn’t a good omen, and you argued that if you had no intention of listening in class you had no reason to go in the first place. So you let yourself plop back onto the mattress, bouncing against it two times before you laid still. 

The night of the party played revue in your mind, over and over. It was strange, it confused you. Over the past week one reappearing thought had settled in the depths of your brain; that the stranger was everything you’ve been looking for. Maybe it was the absence of your boyfriend, the fact he wasn’t around much to remind you of the fact that there was a person you were bound to in one way or another, but reoccurring thoughts about Hyunjin and the increasing awareness that came creeping, the awareness that he, the random man you have met in a tiny store across your street and that you’ve chatted with by coincidence on a party weeks later, was your ideal type, your idea of a righteous lover, in every sense. You weren’t sure if it was delusion, if the fight with Chan had simply left its mark on you. Because it had to be impossible to be so very sure about another person, after barely an hour of conversation. It had felt right, it had felt easy and seamless — not only conversation but basic understanding of each other’s character. It was almost like you had known each other for longer than a couple hours, despite the subtle nervousness that yet had laid in the room and above your heads.

You weren’t sure if such conviction was possible after such little time, but those thoughts weren’t all that scary anymore. You’ve had them before, stupidly so — when you had first seen Hyunjin your mind had short circuited, and a hopeless, longing part within you had taken in the stranger as a wish for a better love. Back then they were foolish, thoughts of another, now they were a possibility, in your brain a second plausible option in case you and Chan weren’t able to work it out anymore; which seemed most likely, inevitable. The fear of not being able to love another person the way you have loved Chan, and the uneasy feeling over the thought of not being loved back as passionately as Chan once did was significantly smaller, had decreased over the course of a week. Not that the worry wasn’t there altogether anymore — you didn’t think a fear as deep lying as this could simply vanish, yet your wariness about Chan, your hesitation when it came to your relationship didn’t frighten you nearly as much as it used to. Because whether it went to an end or not, whether Hyunjin would reveal himself as a possible future partner, a lover for the rest of your life or not; you had loved passionately and without regrets once, had lived a love they only ever write about in books and songs. Even if said love ended, if the flame burned out and left you cold for a lifetime, not bound to be lighted back up by any other; you had loved after all, had burned brightly with another flame, in a dance tauntingly beautiful. Not many people got to experience what you have, and maybe you were finally coming to terms with being thankful of your experience rather than mourning the past.

Which didn’t make the situation all that easier. Because as much as Hyunjin struck your interest, and as rocky your current relationship was, you weren’t one to take such matters mindlessly. You knew that your behaviour, your thoughts, the dreams and your ever growing carelessness was borderline emotional cheating, and that if Chan ever thought about another the way you thought about Hyunjin, you would want to be the first to know. You also knew that you should give it time, that you and Chan were currently holding space for a reason, a reason that wasn’t mingling around with other possible partners, surely. A week ago, when you and Seungmin had been texting after you had left, your best friend had scolded you.

03:58 AM; you >> you know if you ever finnd out who he is and if he’s single

03:58 AM; you >> i'd be thankful

04:03 AM; seungmin << girl

04:03 AM; seungmin << you’re in a relationship get a grip

04:05 AM; you >> in know i know

04:06 AM; you >> you can just ask around tho

04:08 AM; you >> i might be getting my hopes up for nothing, if he’s not single i can at least stop worrying about if he’d be a good match

Seungmin had not given in, though the next day he said that he did find out Hyunjin had come with Jeongin, and that the pink haired man was as confused about Hyunjin’s sudden leaving of the party as Seungmin was about your own. They had gossiped apparently, and you worried about the things Seungmin had revealed about you and Chan; when Seungmin had a drink or two he was prone to oversharing, the habit turning out to be dangerous countless times prior. Though Seungmin himself never admitted the contents of his and Jeongin’s conversation, claiming he could barely even remember, claiming also that no sensitive information was revealed. You could only hope it was true.

“Wait but, she isn’t single…?”

Hyunjin and Jeongin had been quarrelling about the matter of the party - the matter of you - for the past hour and a half, breakfast in front of them, Hyunjin’s roommates having left to work long ago. Though Jeongin wasn’t part of said roommates he was on a good way to be one, spending more time in Hyunjin’s four walls than his own - much to his roommates’ dismay, arguing Jeongin needed to pay rent if he decided to stay over as often as he did, the other party defending themselves, promising Jeongin would either come over less or pay some of the food, at least. Neither of the promises were ever held, and eventually everyone had dropped the matter.

“No she isn’t, but I’m saying you might have a chance, Seungmin said that she’s mad unhappy with this Chan guy.”

Hyunjin had called a cab after you and him had left the party – and after you had calmed down from whatever sensation your body erupted in when you had touched, though you hadn’t talked about it, had ignored it as best as you could and had worried about getting home safe. Hyunjin had paid before you could have complained and you’d lie if you said it didn’t set off some kind of feeling, a giddy one, within you. Hyunjin hadn’t had it in him to go back to the party after that, the events of a couple hours overwhelming enough to tire him out. He had texted Jeongin, for what purpose he wasn’t too sure, he had let him know what happened and why he had left without a notice though, and Jeongin himself had assured Hyunjin to find out who you were and who you had come with, if only for Hyunjin’s knowing, to not have him stay up at night questioning the mystery that was you. And a week later they still haven’t had enough of talking all about the matter.

“Yeah, but it’s not in my plans to make her cheat… or make them break up. She might be unhappy, but she has her reasons to still be with him.”

Hyunjin didn’t like the take Jeongin took on the situation; he didn’t have intentions to be the reason for a break off in your relationship, if on good terms or not. He didn’t want to catch feelings while you were bound to another, and he wasn’t prone to the idea of you having feelings for him while bound to another, either.

“If she’s not single, I don’t have a chance.”

He was set on that. If you were single, that would be a whole different conversation. Hyunjin would actually pursue you then, would actually make an effort for you to get to like him. Would not have an ounce of doubt in his body when it came to you, would not be embarrassed to act and think like a dumb teenager with a high school crush; but that wasn’t the case, so he didn’t even think of acting on said things. As much as Jeongin wanted to convince him of it, Hyunjin’s heart was all but too fragile, his persona too sensitive to get involved in something as complex as that. If you came to your senses all by yourself at some point, realising that Chan might not be the one and would give Hyunjin a chance, he wouldn’t tee that off. Otherwise; he saw himself with tied hands, accepted that love slipped past his fingers when it came to you. Not that he was sure of you entirely when it came to the matter of partners, but the part in him known to long after love and happiness in another person was set on you. He wasn’t happy about it, but it wouldn’t be the first time a crush of his developed into thin air, into a hopeless fascination about another. The romantic in him argued that it simply wasn’t fate, not with you, or not right now.

“Look, I’m not an asshole, you aren’t one, and I know you won’t make her be one either. I’m just saying that you could befriend her, that’s not against any rule. You do like her, and you are interested in her; why not be friends first? There’s like, no guarantee the two of you are ever gonna fall in love even- buuut if you do end up being a good friend and if you do end up catching serious feelings for each other…”

Jeongin was making his way to the fridge, getting out milk for his cornflakes and orange juice for Hyunjin. The direction he was going with his thought concerned Hyunjin, but he kept listening. Because something in it sounded plausible and not out of the norm whatsoever, sounded like something Hyunjin could act on without a heavy heart. Or maybe he needed the least crazy reason to get in contact with you. The least obsessing sounding one, because if he was honest with himself you hadn’t left his mind ever since you had left in the cab after the party. He had been dreaming about you, had been wanting, needing to talk to you. Embarrassingly enough. He wondered if it came off creepy, if he ever told anyone.

“She might realize that this Chan dude can’t even come close to you and break up with him for good. You might be doing her a favour after all.”

Hyunjin blushed a tint at his friends’ words, flattered he thought of him in such manner, though not believing he was necessarily any better than your current boyfriend. Different, surely, but you must have had a reason to fall for him in the first place. So maybe Hyunjin being different from Chan by miles wasn’t anything good after all. Jeongin was coming back to the kitchen aisle with the milk and juice, pouring some into his bowl, passing Hyunjin the other carton.

“Based on what I’ve heard from Seungmin he’s an ass who has a closer relationship with his job than with his girlfriend, Seungmin said she’s only really with him cuz she hopes he’d start paying more attention to her again. Kind of like, saving their relationship or whatever. But apparently he barely tries.”

Jeongin devoured his cornflakes in an uproar of slight anger, the situation visibly affecting him emotionally almost just as much as Hyunjin himself. Which was sweet to look at, didn’t help his conflict any bit though.

“In my opinion he will never try, to be honest. Workaholics have a hard time keeping solid relationships. Look at Minho, man’s been single for a decade.”

Hyunjin and Minho had been friends since high school, moving in together with Felix when they had met the boy in college, to make a cheaper living. Hyunjin and Felix both were essentially different to Minho, in every characteristic possible. Minho had never been a geek at school, but his grades were never below good, the work ethic not decreasing in college either. As a dance major he spent more hours in practice rooms than in the dorms, and it was nothing but admirable, though Jeongin had mentioned the downgrade of it; neither Hyunjin nor Felix had ever seen him with a partner that extended a one night stand, and activities like parties or long get togethers with friends were nothing they’d even ask Minho to join in. He was fun in the company of a befriended crowd, but it occurred all too seldom that he had time to actually let loose and get wasted. And thinking about a guy like him keeping a relationship for longer than a couple months; any partner would leave due to the lack of time. Not the lack of care, necessarily; the fact that Minho was barely home and had his head up in work didn’t mean he lacked qualities of a good friend. It surely wasn’t enough for any romantic relationship though, one where the other party wasn’t as work-involved as he was.

And figuring Chan to be similar to Minho in that aspect, and questioning whether you were the same work obsessed type of person; it painted up the thought if the two of you were in any way compatible, at all. If there was a possibility even of you holding out much longer.

“Look, I’m just saying. You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do… but if you ever need me to get you her number from Seungmin I’ll be glad to help.”

With that he finished the last bite of his breakfast, dropping off his bowl in the sink and launching himself on the sofa, leaving Hyunjin alone with his thoughts by the kitchen aisle. In a way he was right; befriending you was nothing out of the ordinary, would maybe turn into a better friendship than a romantic relationship could ever be. But Hyunjin would lie if he said that he wouldn’t feel guilty at all at the act. Because he could deny it all he wanted, his intentions wouldn’t be all too platonic altogether. He could fight it with all his might but the interest you stroke in him wasn’t one that he saw himself end in friendship. He took a sip of his orange juice, having lost the appetite he took a last half hearted bite of his buttered toast and disposed his plate to Jeongin’s bowl. It seemed almost hopeless to think about the matter, as long as he didn’t know your point of view. Because essentially, it was you he was betting on, your motives and plans he was questioning. Maybe, he thought, he should get your number for the only purpose to spill his heart to you and be blatantly honest with you, confess everything from the moment he saw you to the strange sensation he felt when touching you to the ever occurring thought of you in his mind. And that he couldn’t stop thinking of you, besides knowing you weren’t an available partner. And that it was killing him that another man was in the picture at all. And that he’d die to know all your thoughts on the matter as well, or otherwise he’d catch no sleep at night. If he did all that, if he grew the balls to be this honest with you, the whole matter would be settled in no time. You’d reject him or not, and he’d move on with his life or would be granted the chance of getting to know you.

He sighed out heavily in despair, slipping on his shoes, grabbing his keys, urging Jeongin to get ready to leave as well. Hyunjin hoped to rid himself off the thoughts throughout the day, dropping off Jeongin at home before driving up at work, the small library standing quiet by a still lake, soft rays of sun illuminating the space in tranquillity. Though opening up the doors, letting in the first waiting people, setting up his space at the reception; you were the only thing on his mind. His work came automatically, without much thinking, and his head was filled with you. He surely wouldn’t catch a break as long as you stayed a mystery to him. Though he wouldn’t go the extra mile to get behind saidmystery. Because being even remotely the fault in a possible breakup was nothing Hyunjin thought he would be able to handle.

The day was slow, the sun throwing ever differing shadows against the wooden entrance door, giving Hyunjin a convenient source of distraction during the lack of customers and interested readers. Hyunjin had been working long enough by now to be allowed a book by his desk, or a piece of paper accompanied by a pen when all people in town seemed unwilling to leave the house and make a visit to the small library. Additionally, his often only job was to watch the reception, lend out and take back books; when it came to the deeper mechanics of the place, about hunting down bestsellers and ordering the newest trending pieces of literature, or organising newly arrived deliveries, he wasn’t in charge anymore. Which he couldn’t much complain about, at the end of the day he was making easy money while being able to doodle and sketch to his heart's desires on the side, or let his mind get lost in the current piece of fiction he was reading. Though he sometimes wondered if that was truly all to his existence. Was aware that if his dream as an artist went down the drain he’d stay working in the library, that this would be his future until retirement. And the thought was strangely frightening.

The heavy, wooden door opened with a familiar creak, Hyunjin dropping his pen and looking up to see the shadows yet changed in the small foyer. It was late noon by now, only a couple hours left to work, a comfortable and cosy midday tiredness long taken over Hyunjin’s body.

Until his limbs suddenly felt on fire, worked up and all traces of tiredness gone, in a sensation so familiar to him though he hasn’t felt it too often before. And then your face appeared in his vision, confirming the turmoil in the lower pit of his stomach. It was all the same, having felt you before having seen you. It was strange, unexplainable with Hyunjin’s basic knowledge of biology and science; but he liked it. Fancied the idea that there was a person out there seemingly so connected to him that their presence was announced before they appeared in his vision. The thought was stupid, stemming from the familiar hopelessness he knew so well of himself; after all you have barely spoken with each other yet, the connection you two had was barely fit to be called a friendship, if anything. Acquaintances, yet not even that.

Hyunjin watched you looking around the place, eyes not having met his yet, and he wondered if for you it was the same. If you, too, could feel him before you could see him. He hoped you could. He hoped it was a sensation mutual, hoped he wasn’t the only one pathetic enough to be enchanted by a stranger.

Judging by your expression, you either haven’t visited the library in a while or have never been inside the building altogether; making Hyunjin question anew if you might be new in town, first having had the thought when you encountered each other in the small-town store, the thought reappearing now as you looked around the place with big eyes, mouth slowly agape. Admittedly, for a town as small as this the little library surely was impactful. The building was everything but big, and far from modern – the bricked walls dark and shabby, the floor creaking here and there, the windows not changed since the middle ages, it seemed. Yet thousands of books made the rooms look more welcome, more inviting. They were stacked everywhere, shelves reaching as far as the ceiling, and wherever there wasn’t a place for literature filled cupboards, plants accentuated the place, all different sizes yet green and blooming, pots held a terracotta colour to keep the quaint feel of the place. The windows that were built gen west never disappointed in giving the building the prettiest views of early sunsets; altogether, for such a small town the little library surely was impactful.

You caught Hyunjin’s eyes, and after a moment of hesitation you made your way to the reception. The laptop in front of him was the only thing seeming out of place in this building, too modern to fit into the oldish, tranquil atmosphere. The blue light of the screen illuminated his face in the slight dim of the room, throwing dark hues against his cheekbones and eyes. It was calming to see him again; strange, yet calming.

He had told you his current place of work when you have conversed at the party, mentioning briefly that he found it best to keep a part time job next to his passion and estimated occupation. You had short mindedly decided to pay him a visit; for whatever reason you weren’t sure. Maybe you wanted to befriend the man that seemed so very special and unique to you. Maybe there were ulterior intentions that you weren’t brave enough to worry about. But you were here, and you were glad he was too; after all Hyunjin hadn’t told you his work schedule, it was pure luck to have met him today.

“Hi.”

A smile from you, warm and inviting, and your voice soft. Hyunjin had missed you and he hadn’t even known you for long; he wondered just how attached he would grow to you if you only started a friendship, and decided then and there that Jeongin’s plan would everything but work; he could never simply befriend you. His soul would always need more of you. The whole of you.

“Hi.”

He smiled back, hoping to not come off as overly nervous. He was every time he saw, thought of you, hoped it wasn’t visible from the outside. Hyunjin wanted to keep his cool when in front of you; because you always seemed so very laid back, so very unbothered. Interested, but unfaced.

“What are you doing here?”

He always looked so calm when talking to you. You wondered if he was, or if he was only trying to play it cool, as hard as you were trying to appear collected. Because you never seemed to be in his presence. It was strange, truly, considering you were a grown woman, not a teenager guided by hormones only.

“Uh, I haven’t been here in like- ages… and you said you worked here? I thought I…- I thought I’d give you a visit.”

Hyunjin’s brows quirking up in surprise – he hadn’t expected that answer. Upon seeing his reaction your face darkened, in flusterness and embarrassment.

“And uh, I’m looking for something to read… I haven’t read in ages…- not for like- entertainment only, you know.”

You were cute, words leaving you in a quick manner as if to save yourself from admitting something you didn’t mean to admit. Hyunjin laughed softly, and the sound was bound to stay in your memories for long; it was a resonance prettier than anything you’ve ever heard prior.

“Oh yeah, I get you… I remember when I was in uni, textbooks were the only form of literature I consumed… can I, uh- help you, though? With picking out a book? Or did you come for, like- something specific?”

Hopefully not too pushing, but you gave Hyunjin a smile, one that showed thankfulness. He liked the way you were looking at him. Eyes soft and intrigued, curious yet patient. There was a sweetness to your gaze, due to a good hearted persona or something different, he wasn’t sure yet. But he liked it, liked the way you inspected your surroundings so carefully, inspected him so carefully, intimately, almost. He wished you would look at him like this forever.

The library was small, after accepting Hyunjin’s help – not without a hint of nervosity – and revealing you’d love to read a classic romantic novel – not without an internal smile from Hyunjin at your choice of literature, he knew you’d have more in common than initiated from the first conversation you had – he quickly guided you around and to the corner of the building reserved for heart fluttering and tear worthy romance. You thanked him before he left for the reception again, arguing he’d love to stay with you and talk more literature but he couldn’t leave his seat at the front uncovered for too long. You understood, giggling when he said he’d wait for you by his desk - because truly, where else would he go? - and that you should take as much as you needed; picking out the right book after a hiatus of reading was crucial, he mentioned, both laughing at the seriousness of his tone. Yet no time on earth could ever calm you enough, too soon when you made your way back to the reception again after picking out a book that sounded interesting enough. Your movements too giddy and thoughts too scattered to be fully prepared to encounter him again. The feeling of his proximity grew within you, the pulling and tugging whenever he was close, like an itch you couldn’t quite reach, until you stood before him. He looked like he was expecting you – maybe he had the same sort of sensation coursing his limbs whenever the distance between your bodies closed, after all. Or maybe you deluded yourself too deep, maybe he simply heard your footsteps against the old, wooden floors.

“You’ve decided?”

Genuine interest in his voice, a curious look at the book when you passed it to him to scan it into the system.

“Good choice, I’ve loved this one.”

Not expected him to be interested in this genre of literature you were taken aback, only shortly before comfortable small talk settled in between you, while Hyunjin’s hands worked fast to type in your name, your number, your address, adding the chosen book to the “lent” list. Moves sure and quick, and it impressed you. It was interesting seeing him work, seeing him concentrated to get numbers right and the spelling of your name correct. Thick brows just slightly furrowed yet drawing a crease, lips pouted just faintly yet showing concentration. An occasional brush with his hands through his neck long hair, and a quick look to you, giving an answer or a question to whatever conversation you were having, smiling, before eyes wandered back to the screen. You hoped you could see him do more mundane things more often. It was intriguing. He was.

“Alright, here you go. You have four weeks to bring it back, if you need more time, just write us a mail, though. Or uh- call. I work the late shifts from Monday to Thursday… you can call whenever though, obviously- someone’s always at the reception just-… I’m here from twelve to six every Monday to Thursday.”

His speech scattered, entirely too nervous and breathless, too fast. Hyunjin looked up at you and hoped his face wouldn’t change a darker, redder colour. You smiled down at him, thanking him before taking the book – and brushing your fingertips against his. Just shortly, barely even a touch; yet bittersweet nostalgia rushed through your nerves, as though your soul slipped past your fingers. Somehow confirming the both of you hadn’t dreamt it, somehow setting in stone that something was utterly wrong between the two of you, incredibly strange and out of this world. Maybe unexplainable at all. You looked at each other, eyes blown wide open, yet you didn’t speak on it, still. Too scared, too cowardly maybe, especially from your side – Chan was never not in mind. You exchanged a shocked expression, only a second before you stored the book into your bag, avoiding confrontation. You would talk on the subject, at some point. When you were closer than this maybe, friends. Because the thought of speaking out the elephant in the room was embarrassing enough – talking about feeling quite literal sparks when touching a stranger with said stranger was nothing you were looking forward to.

Hyunjin watched you pack the book away, the initial shock of your skin on his subsiding and suddenly feeling an idiot instead, for revealing his working hours. Because the intended message was his exception, his hope that you’d come to the library a second time to see him. To see him instead for another piece of literature. How naïve he was, after all.

But your answer surprised him.

“I’ll be here then, in four weeks… somewhere between Monday and Thursday, sometime between uh- twelve and six.”

A blush across your face, subtle but enough for Hyunjin to notice – and to coo out audibly, almost, if he didn’t keep his composure, as best as he could. He smiled at you, warm and soft, and you said a quick goodbye before leaving the building, not without a last questioning, curious look back.

Maybe there was hope, altogether. Maybe Hyunjin had made a bigger impression on you than he ever believed to be possible, wasn’t stupid to suspect mutual interest, after all.

Hyunjin was one to respect privacy, always. When people lend out books Hyunjin needs to ask for name, phone number and address – books were expensive, and the institution needed to make sure to receive every last of it back. Not once has Hyunjin written down a number for his own purpose, though. Surely, he’s met enough interesting people throughout his part time career, people that he found attractive, interesting, intriguing. Not once has Hyunjin had the urge to get a piece of paper and take the advantage of his job for his own entertainment, though.

And he felt wrong, sinful almost when he had stared at your number in his system for longer than it was wholly necessary.

He could be smart, and wait until you come back in four weeks and ask for your number properly. With no ill intentions, in full honesty – admitting he liked you, being also aware of your boyfriend and suggesting to simply become friends, if you wanted.

Or he could be dumb. Utterly and thoroughly dumb and save your number into his phone right the moment and text you before the day was even over. Which was both creepy, and entirely too clingy. You’d think he’s obsessed, or a stalker. You’d think he’s weird and would never speak to him again, surely. So he really, really shouldn’t do it. Really shouldn’t let his hands wander into his jean pocket to fish for his phone, really shouldn’t open his contacts and create a new one, with your name on it, typing in your number, saving it up.

He was utterly and thoroughly dumb.

And he texted you, all but two days later – because he didn’t want to be too clingy, after all. Telling you the truth instead of making an excuse as to why and how he got your number – admitting he had wanted to ask for it for some time now and had forgotten when you stood before him eventually, so he took matters into his own hand and advantage of his job, which he explained he never normally does, that he knows it kind of seems pushy, and that he generally is too dumb to even have texted you, that he should have waited the four weeks it took you to bring back the book you had lend out. You took it surprisingly well, though, the matter of Hyunjin sniffing around to get your personal information, more or less – after all it had been there right before him, you argued, you would have done the same thing, you admitted.

And texting you was so simple. So easy, catching a mutual wave length in seconds and messaging back and forth without minding how fast time passed. It’s been three days, and your exchanges rarely ended before two in the morning, surpassing early morning hours at times. And to think you weren’t talking about anything crucial, anything deep lying – it was mundane conversation, small talk turned into jokes and complaints about the work day, or your studies. Small talk that didn’t seem all too important but that Hyunjin adored, enjoyed to the fullest. Getting to know you and your character by day to day things, reading the way you observe and describe things, the way you text him in general – it was all but too intriguing, pulled Hyunjin in even deeper. He reminded himself more often than not that whatever you two would have going on, whatever would develop with the course of time would never go beyond a friendship – but if Hyunjin was fully honest with himself, though he was too cowardly to admit; he was too deep into you already, too pathetic, too desperate, unable to take off his heart shaped and pink tinted glasses. It was too late for his heart to turn back from you, and he was aware. Though it was yet not in his plans to approach ill minded plans. He’d let his heart hurt, bleed a bit more, until yours decided on him as well. And if it didn’t, if your heart was never meant to find his in a way Hyunjin wanted it to, then he’d let it be. He’d let you be, let the deep, gashing wound right at his heart be. Because maybe the first flickers of love he felt were enough to allow him to suffer for you, were enough to sacrifice his own dumb heart for your sole happiness.  

You were clueless, confused. Perplexed and stumped and any other word you could possibly think of. And most of all, you were helpless. When you had come home from the library – feelings of euphoria coursing your body, a faint smile painted on your lips, sinfully so – you had found Chan waiting before your doorstep. He had wanted to talk, wanted to sort things out. Had said he missed you, deeply, and that he hated whatever was going on between the two of you. Had realised long before that you had been growing apart but that he’s been too cowardly to speak up, and that now he wanted to be a better boyfriend, a better partner, for the sake of you and your relationship.

And you couldn’t have been happy about it, couldn’t have been relieved or glad that it seemed like a new beginning for your cracking love. You thought of Hyunjin, remembered the way it felt when you had been skin to skin, for less than a split second – couldn’t help but compare that to Chan, how you had never felt the same with him, had never felt the supposed spark that you had never much believed in but that now was a matter you worried about, when it came to Hyunjin. Whenever he was in mind you remembered the myth you’ve been so obsessed with as a child - that twin flames would be bound to one another the moment they touched. Couldn’t help but compare the first touch you shared with Chan and the one you shared with Hyunjin, and how essentially different they had been. Had realised that whatever you were feeling with Hyunjin, and as shortly as you had known him - he felt more a twin flame than Chan ever has. If any of the saying laid in truth, after all. 

You had felt guilty because surely, it wasn’t Chan’s fault, the lack of spark, knew he wanted only the best for you, your relationship. Altogether; your boyfriend was utterly clueless about your turmoil of feelings, your torn plight. Clueless about the fact you had been playing with the thought of breaking up with him – because recently the thought hadn’t been as frightening as it used to be. Hadn’t been giving you sleepless nights in fear of never finding love like his again. It had felt relieving, the thought of being alone, of being free from never ending lonely nights, never ending bickers and fights – in fact, you should have broken up long ago, when your love had reached its peak. When it hadn’t yet trembled in its confines, when you had merely started to realise that the two of you wouldn’t work out in the long run – if you had ended it back then, you wouldn’t be hurting now. You would have gained an experience of love you’d be able to cherish for years to come, even if that meant being alone for the rest of days. You’d rather be alone than in pain. Alone by yourself than lonely in a relationship of two.

And then you and Chan had spoken, long and painful, and had decided to give it a try. A last one, because he couldn’t simply let you go. Not on bad terms, anyways. And apparently, you thought mutually. Let yourself lull in by his words, let yourself convince that love was never easy, needed to be worked on. You had agreed, had hugged and kissed in tears. And in thought you’d been with Hyunjin.

Two days later he had texted you, and you hated how well you were hitting it off. How easy conversation flowed with him, how topics converted into each other and never seemed to stop. Hated how you were looking forward to in four weeks, looking forward to seeing him again. In the same breath, though, you tried to convince yourself that it was friendly, solely. Platonic excitement to meet a new acquaintance – you wanted that to be the case, lied to yourself about it. If you didn’t admit that there was more to it, then maybe there wasn’t. If you didn’t admit that the feelings for Chan grounded against zero the more time passed, then maybe they’d come back.

@doll4hoon @iwannabangchan @hwangful @whatudowhennooneseesyou @inkybird @asters-abditory @seungminluv3 @skzddicted @marslovescats @berryblog @beautifullywrecked-aeris @moonlightcandy00 @hyynee @nightrayseishina @199719932000 @shrub31201 @yoamimi @aemondsrhaenyra @hyuneisbae @lovhyunj @ladytrbl @danyxthirstae01 @someoneinlovve @lili-kims-blog @rachagen @koorminii @good-soup3023 @shiru-chan @karaquestionable @blahbluhblahbluh @laryisthinking @knisterlicht @studyingthemind @ppiri-bahng @septicrebel @channiesfavoritebrownie @midsoulz @foivetimesacharm @daceyena @yoonguurt @lovingeaglepeanut @hyuneyeon @therealhyunjingf @llunapastell @dreamstarsandskz

[lexosaurus]

The Truth to Light: Chapter 2

(oh my goddd this was supposed to be a drabble. why am i writing a three part fic? lexx, stop it, bad lexx)

Side Hoes Week day 2: Wes Weston, Revenge Characters: Wes, Tucker WC: 1494

[chapter one]

[ao3]

****

“What are you gonna do if he loses?” 

Tucker turned around, trying to not let the annoyance show through. One of these days he’d be able to walk by Wes Weston without hearing a comment, but today wasn’t one of those days. Though interestingly, Weston was far less…gloat-y than Tucker thought he would be.

Maybe it was the video. Maybe finally seeing all the horrors on screen was enough to humble him. Maybe the stupid redhead was finally realizing how recklessly he had been acting, trying to expose Danny for the past two years.

But instead of shutting the hell up, Weston had now taken to lurking around and trying to have “secret” conversations with Sam and Tucker. As if he had been in on their trio the whole time.

Hah. As if.

Weston leaned against the brick wall and bit into the apple in his hand. His green eyes were steeled on Tucker, and the determination on his face was reminiscent of a cheesy spy movie. The situation itself was so stereotypical, Tucker would have found it comical a few months ago. But then again, it was hard to find anything humorous lately.

“So?” Weston said through a mouthful of apple. He swallowed, then continued, “You gonna go after the Ghost Investigation Ward?”

Tucker had to refrain from letting out his hundredth exasperated sigh that month from talking to Weston. “And how exactly would I do that?”

Weston, it seemed, had no reservations about letting out a huff himself. He pushed off the brick wall, tossing the bitten apple in his hand. “Foley, I’m not a fucking idiot. I know what your little side hobby is.”

“You honestly don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh, and so I bet that mechanical ghost just happened to hack his own system for a year? And all Technus’ world domination attempts just happened to get shut down by themselves?”

“I’ve heard Phantom was pretty good at his job. Maybe he got a lucky shot.”

Weston rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. Because Fenton is known for being such a programming genius.”

Tucker folded his arms over his chest. Play stupid, just play stupid. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t?” Weston said lightly through his glaring eyes. He snatched the apple out of the air mid-toss and stalked over to Tucker, jabbing his finger into his chest. This close, Tucker could smell the deodorant Weston had sprayed on his body after basketball practice. “The rest of this school may think it was just Danny, but I know all about your double life too. You can’t fool me. I know you didn’t make the honor roll last year through any real academic merits.”

“Maybe I’m just smarter than you think, Weston.”

“Oh, I know you’re smarter than everyone else thinks. Trust me.” He took a step back and tore out another chunk of the apple. “And I know you played a bigger role in your little secret trio ghost fighting club than anyone knows.”

Tucker glanced around knowing that everyone had left the school property long ago. He would have been long gone too, had he not needed to make up this English exam. But it was worth it. He needed to appear in court for Danny. He had worked too damn hard to get his friend out of that hellhole, and he would never forgive himself if he let school get in the way of this rescue operation now.

With the assurance they were truly alone, he finally dropped his shoulders and hissed, “So what if I did? You gonna go tattle to the government?”

“No…” Weston’s gaze finally flickered away from Tucker. “But I’m just wondering what you’re going to do if he loses the trial.”

“He’s not going to lose.”

“He might.”

“He won’t,” Tucker said. “He can’t. I worked—I—he can’t lose. He can’t.”

Weston’s keen perception and ability to get under Tucker’s skin were all too annoying. “So you’ve already done something, then?”

“Yeah, Weston, it’s called spending weeks trapped in a room with lawyers being hounded by questions about my best friend. The fuck did you think I’ve been up to?”

“As I said, I’m not an idiot. You’re a hacker. What sort of revenge have you been planning?”

God, Tucker could scream. Did this moron actually think that just because he waited for Tucker after school, that suddenly meant all secrets would be revealed? 

They weren’t even friends! They had never been friends! Just because Weston figured out who Danny was, didn’t mean shit!

But he forced his anger back down, he forced that urge to punch Weston in his stupid freckled face down, he forced his shaking fists into his hoodie pockets. “I haven’t planned anything, dumbass. Why would I risk Danny’s freedom like that?”

“Because you know the government is never going to give him up. He’s too powerful. You know this.”

He did know this.

“Judges don’t care what the stupid Guys in White want.”

“They don’t?” Weston said. “Huh, that’s news to me. I didn’t know the US Judicial system was so flawless. Better go correct the history books, then.” He made a big show of biting into his apple, chomping loudly as he said through a muddled jaw, “I guess the government will just have to give up a massive bio-weapon and unlimited source of ecto-energy when some random judge asks them nicely to hand Phantom over. I’m sure it’ll go over well.”

The urge to punch Weston in the face was growing stronger by the second. 

“Whatever, Wes,” Tucker bit out. “If you’re just gonna be a dick, then I’m done talking to you. Unlike you, I actually have things to do. Like, you know, saving my friend’s life.”

“No, come on.” Weston grabbed Tucker’s arm, who didn’t hesitate to rip himself out of Weston’s grip. “Listen, I know you’re planning some sort of revenge against the GIW. Come on, I can help.”

“I’m not planning anything,” Tucker reiterated. Mentally, he noted that it was because he’d already done it by releasing the videos. “And even if I were, I’d never tell you.”

“I can be useful. Admit it, the fact that I figured out who Danny really was two years before anyone else did? That was impressive.”

Tucker snorted. “Sure, and we can forget the part where you stalked us trying to out Danny and sell him to the government. What’s wrong, Weston, feeling a bit of buyer’s remorse?” He whirled back around to face the other boy. “You got your wish, didn’t you? You spent years trying to sell him out to the Guys in White, and guess what? Eventually, they got him! And then the videos came out and it turned out, you were fucking right about Danny being a halfa. Wes was right all fucking along! So congrats, Wes, truly. You got your wish. Now go celebrate with someone else and leave me alone.”

When Weston finally said nothing in return, Tucker let the anger fade. The fists in his pocket uncurled, and the tightness in his neck released. He sighed and toed the patchy grass. “My best friend was kidnapped, dude. I don’t really care about your guilt or whatever it is you’re feeling. I’m just trying to get him back.” His voice cracked at the end, but he didn’t care anymore.

Tucker wasn’t some macho, tough guy. He was just a sixteen-year-old geek who liked to fool around with computer programs and play video games with his friends on the weekend. He didn’t want all…this. 

But he didn’t have a choice.

“Just leave me alone,” Tucker said.

“Foley…listen, I’m sorry, okay? And—and you don’t need to recruit me. But you’re gonna have to think of something. The government’s never going to let Danny go. The videos were good, but they won’t be good enough. This isn’t the first time torture has been uncovered by the federal government.”

Tucker continued staring at the ground. He knew this…he really did…but…

“The public pressure,” he tried.

“It won’t matter.”

Tucker gnawed at his lip. “This isn’t about revenge, Weston.”

“Okay, fine. But you’ll still have to do something. And correct me if I’m wrong, but based on what you’ve already done, I don’t think this will be too challenging for you.” 

Surprise flickered through Tucker, but before he could process what Weston was talking about, the taller teen had already grabbed his backpack and shouldered past him.

“Just think about it, okay?”

And then Weston was strolling to the parking lot, whistling with an ease that suggested nothing but pure innocence. Like he hadn’t just spent the past few minutes conspiring with Tucker.

Leaving Tucker standing there, alone, stunned.

Had Wes really…?

But no. No one knew about that.

Danny would be fine. Tucker had done enough. He had to have. What more could he give? What more could he do to get Danny out of there? 

There was nothing else…right?

Right?

****

chapter 1 / chapter 3

[notthatdeafbard]

I...don’t make posts like this. But I am desperate for help. 

This is Piper. Piper is a 7-year-old Domestic shorthair, though she still acts like a kitten most days! She is my baby, and while she isn't officially documented, she acts as my Emotional Support Animal for all my mental health needs. She is an absolute sweetie and I can imagine a day without her now.

^Her eye on 4/16/23 after an allergy episode. This was why we didn’t initially worry.

A little over a month ago, her third eyelid started showing. It was so slight at first that my best friend and I thought it was allergies, as ours were flaring up as well. But as the days turned into weeks, it seemed to just get worse. After some lubricating drops did not work, I took her to the vet and the initial visit resulted in one of two results: An abscess behind her eye, or a tumor. After seeking counsel with an Animal Eye specialist, we got the following diagnosis:

"Piper has signs consistent with Retrobulbar Disease. Retrobulbar Disease most commonly is associated with an infection/inflammation (cellulitis) or a cancer. Less Common causes include retrobulbar foreign body, hemorrhage, cyst, mucocele, myositis, or an ascending tooth root infection. Our goal is to resolve the clinical signs and determine the underlying cause. Based on Piper's eye exam and history, I am most suspicious of a retrobulbar tumor (cancer)."

^This is her eye as of 6/20/23

After discussing the details of the diagnosis with her vet, we determined that Enucleation, or removal of the eye and therefore tumor, is the best option to give her a continued beneficial life. As of now, she does not seem to be experiencing pain, but she has no flinch reflex in that eye, and no reaction to light, which tells the doctors that the mass is pressing against the optic nerve, and thus it would be more beneficial to her to have the eye removed, and a biopsy to be done on the mass to determine if it is aggressive cancer or not.

The amount being asked is to help cover the cost of the procedure, with an itemized estimate attached below.

Any additional funds raised will go toward the vet bills accrued before this surgery. As I work with the school system and it is summer, I am not making enough money for this, and all my credit cards are maxed out from other issues that have happened. I cannot get this procedure done without this money so please, help me give her the life she deserves.

Here is my GoFundMe. (https://gofund.me/96a56fa6) Any help, whether its donations or sharing, would be helpful. I’m so scared of losing her.

[summercourtship]

stay to burn (only to drown instead): chapter eight: poor, sweet, innocent [part I]

masterpost | ao3 link

jonathan crane x reader; bruce wayne x reader; edward nashton x reader | warnings: canon typical violence, sexual content | word count: 3648 words

DISCLAIMER: these chapters are not meant to be read alone. not every chapter has content for one of the three pairings listed. this is an ongoing fanfiction that I am cross-posting here on tumblr, not a series of one-shots.

chapter one |previous part

The end of the semester came quickly, a blur of grading and writing, studying and procrastination. If you cut open your veins, you’re sure that you would bleed coffee from how much you’d put into your body over the past two weeks, caffeine and sugar becoming your life source.

You were still working your normal shifts at Arkham- you couldn’t afford not to- but most of your day was spent with a textbook open on your desk unless Jonathan needed your help. Everyone else knew that you weren’t to be bothered until the end of the second week of May when classes were over, and Jonathan didn’t seem to mind letting you focus on your studies during work hours.

After all, he was the reason you had this job and he knew what your life was like.

Luckily, you only had two actual exams that you had to sit down for- your other final assignments were research papers and a singular presentation that you were completely ready and willing to leave until the night before to prepare.

Everything else in your life took a back burner, including Jonathan. It had been almost three weeks since you’d last spent time with him at his apartment. He’d always offered to host you, though, saying that it would just be a change in scenery for you to do your work but you knew that he was just saying that. Any promises he made about letting you do your work in peace were a lie. He always had a way of getting you to abandon your work and lavish your attention on him instead. And you had no power within your body to resist it, especially not when he spoke to you in the low tones that only ever seemed to signal your clothes being peeled off…

Yeah, you couldn’t exactly afford to have a night of that right now, as much as you may want it. But the option of his apartment was always open, he’d tell you, especially since you had a car now.

Your parents had dropped off the car a weekend ago, barely staying in the city long enough for you to get a quick lunch (upon seeing your parents you had noticed immediately how your mother’s grip never left the strap of her purse, how your father seemed to constantly check his surroundings- and all you could think about was that they didn’t even know about the close encounters with the criminal underworld you’ve had). The car itself was old, with a few dents and chips in the paint, but you didn’t care because it was yours. It represented new freedom in a city that was seemingly determined to take it away from its citizens.

You were now able to drive yourself to campus if you wished, and could take different shifts at Arkham (though they still mostly aligned with Jonathan’s schedule for obvious reasons). So even though you were incredibly stressed with the end of the semester, you at least had a semblance of control over a small portion of your life.

And sometimes, that’s all you could ask for.

Your latest office hours with Jonathan consisted of you sitting on the floor, papers to grade spread around you while Jonathan sat at his desk, doing much of the same thing.

“I hate this,” You had said at one point. Jonathan had only chuckled in response. That was the extent of your interaction for the day- no spontaneous make-out session, no back-and-forth teasing, no heated flirtations. Nothing but the sound of his fingers on the keys of his laptop and your own pen against paper.

When you left his office that day, you were struck by an odd emptiness in your heart when you realized that this was the last day of being his TA. And that while it hadn’t been the amount of work you’d been anticipating (after those first few weeks, Jonathan only asked you to grade the odd assignment, leaving you often just sharing your notes with the students and taking attendance), it also had changed your life in a drastic way.

Because how many other people could say they were sleeping with/in a relationship with their kinda mysterious, ethereally attractive professor? (Well, probably more than is decent, but your relationship is different from the ones you hear whispered behind hands as gossip, right?)

Then your actual exams and essays and presentation came and went in the blink of an eye, leaving you on the other side with nothing to do except take more shifts at Arkham.

So you did.

You weren’t particularly fond of chess, yet somehow Edward managed to rope you into playing with him. After the end of the semester and your shift to full-time for the summer, you’d been sent to help watch the inmates a few more times, almost always in the rec room. But this was only the second time that Edward had been present since your first time attending the room.

The first encounter after, he had simply watched you from afar. You did your best to not enter into a staring contest with him from across the room. For someone who had evidently been ignored for most of his life, you found it incredibly hard to do it yourself.

Today, however, he had approached you and gestured to the raggedy chess table that you’d noticed on your first day here. Initially, you just shook your head, mumbling something about needing to pay attention to your job. But then it was like two disconnected wires in your brain touched and you decided that, actually, you should play chess with him.

Quietly, you sat at the table across from him, ignoring the slight look of surprise that flitted across his face before he wiped it away. Surprising him might have made the entire endeavor worth it.

The game commenced, his pale hand moving a white pawn first. You knew enough about chess to know that white had an inherent advantage from starting first. But even though you decided to sit with him, you didn’t really care about winning.

You didn’t speak to one another as you played, your grimace only growing with each piece he took from your side. There was no playful banter, no hints that this game was anything but a way to pass the time. At least, it was on your end. You had no idea what Edward’s true intentions were and you doubted you would ever find them out.

“You know, two years ago I would have been terrified of a girl like you.” He breaks the silence as he moves his bishop, capturing your pawn. You looked up from under your eyelashes, keeping your face still to not show your distaste at his comment.

“A girl like me?”

“But now-” He ignored your interjection, though you could tell he heard it from the way he raised his voice slightly as he continued speaking, “you’re terrified of me.”

“I’m not terrified of you.” Not anymore, at least. Meeting a man in probably the worst chapter of his life will do that to you. “Right now, I’m annoyed.” You looked down at the chess board, trying to hide how lost you were. A pile of your pieces was beside Edward’s side of the board, evidence of your confusion and ineptitude at the game.

“You’re not very good at this, are you?”

“I don’t play often.” You bristled at his condescending tone even though it wasn’t unexpected from him. All he had anymore was condescension and his steadfast belief in his own intelligence. Everything else had been taken away from him the moment he was taken into custody.

“I can tell.”

You snapped your head upwards, scowling openly.

“I don’t have to play with you, you know.” Despite your threat, you stayed seated. But you were now unreasonably annoyed where you had been relatively content a few moments ago (at least, as content as one could be while surrounded by inmates of an asylum for the criminally insane). Edward only cocked his head sideways, his large eyes unblinking as he took in your annoyance.

“But you are.”

You were put off by his blaise attitude, pursing your lips as you slowly leaned back in your chair. It was your turn, but you knew that whatever you did he would beat you. Did he know what you were thinking as you looked at the game? How far ahead had he planned his moves on the board?

Was this all a metaphor? Was he planning something? At the thought a small jolt of fear ran down your back, a reminder sent from your brain that the man across from you was dangerous. You pushed the fear down, though, knowing that it was a dangerous emotion to have in an environment like the one you were in. People here could smell it, taste it in the air and trace its source like bloodhounds.

Dangerous.

“Move your rook.”

You didn’t move, instead sliding your stare up from the board to look at him in suspicion as you stayed in your reclined position.

“Why are you helping me?” What does he want? In a game where strategy was key, what was his by telling you what to do?

“It’s preferable to watching you struggle for the next two minutes.” He sighed, gesturing to a square on the board. “Move the rook.”

With no change in your suspicious expression, you moved the rook.

He immediately captured it with the same bishop from before, barely even looking at the board as he did so. You only had two pawns, a knight, and your king left on the board. He still had most of his pieces, and any of the ones you’d taken were not because you’d bested him but because he’d willingly given them up.

The shock at seeing your piece taken so carelessly erased the fear from your mind, replacing it with a strange sense of betrayal. As if you’d trusted the Riddler to give you good advice. You’d at least expected him to wait before taking you down.

“Hey! What-”

“I didn’t say I was helping you win.” He smiled at you, and you took a mental note to always analyze everything he said for hidden meanings and motives. “Checkmate.”

“Fuck.” You mumbled, looking at the board in defeat, shoulders slumped. From your peripheral vision, you saw him start to get up, clearly under the impression that you were done playing, expecting your one loss to have been enough to put you off of playing another round. You looked back up at him, keeping your expression even so he wouldn’t read too much into it. “Reset the board.”

If Edward was surprised you wanted to play again, he didn’t show it. (You were both hiding your emotions now, keeping your motives close to the chest). Instead, he simply did what you asked without talking. You watched as he moved the makeshift pieces back to where they belonged on the board, his fingers plucking up the random assortment of items. You noticed that though his nails were bitten almost to the quick, his hands didn’t shake as he did this.

When you looked back up at him, he was still focused on the board. Then his green eyes flicked up to yours for a second, peering up over the plastic frame of his glasses to look at you.

Only then did his hand stumble in its steadiness, knocking over the disfigured black knight he was placing on the board. Without thinking, you plucked it up and placed it back where it belonged, keeping your touch away from him.

“I’ll be white this time.” You said, hiding a small smirk. He acquiesced, turning the board around while watching you curiously.

(You still lost.)

Wayne Enterprises was supposed to call sometime the week after classes ended to inform you if you were chosen for the internship or if you failed miserably. So, for every second you weren’t actively typing in a patient’s information or taking care of Jonathan’s schedule, you were staring at your phone willing it to ring.

Which it finally did, halfway through your shift on Thursday. You were doing one of Jonathan’s patients appointments for the month, making sure that it aligned with the care he needed and didn’t conflict with any other medical appointment or program he had scheduled, when your phone buzzed on the table next to you. Slowly, you looked at it, stifling a gasp when the number was registered as Wayne Enterprises. You were frozen looking at the call on your screen.

Then, quickly, you swiped to answer the call, unwilling to let it go to voicemail.

“Hello?” You tried not to sound as nervous as you felt but your voice cracked and came out quietly into the receiver.

The voice on the other side said your name and it took you a moment to realize that it was a question, an inquiry if you were who the other side was speaking to.

“Yes! Yes, that is me.”

“This is Elizabeth, from Wayne Enterprises. We are just calling to-” Ah shit, you thought. Crestfallen, you did your best to not audibly sigh into the phone and barely registered that Elizabeth hadn’t said that they had picked someone else. “-congratulate you on being selected for one of our internship positions!”

Wait. What?

“Wait. What?”

“You got the internship.”

“Oh, wow.” You blinked, silent, before you came to your senses and began to profusely thank Elizabeth. As you did, you looked into Jonathan’s office. He was bent over his laptop, fingers furiously typing away at something, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose. You looked away before he could sense you looking at him and make eye contact, knowing that you’d forget everything if he did that. “What do I need to do next?”

“I’ll email you the official contract and all the necessary information- in a few weeks there’ll be a luncheon so you can meet everyone and start off the internship on a positive note!”

“Again, thank you so much.”

“No, thank you! We look forward to working with you.”

With that, the call ended.

Numbly, you put your phone face down on your desk. A small laugh bubbled from you, unfamiliar on your lips.

You got the internship. In just a few minutes, the hope you had for your future brightened, knowing that the position was unlikely to end in you being unemployed when you graduated.

Slowly, you stood up and moved to Jonathan’s doorway. If he noticed you move, he didn’t show it, his focus remaining on his work. Softly, you cleared your throat.

“Hey, Jon?” He looked up, obviously taken aback by you using a nickname he didn’t go by. “I just got off of a call from Wayne Enterprises.”

He didn’t move, not to help you deliver the news. No probing questions. He just waited for you to break the news. You’re not sure if you appreciated his silent waiting or not.

“I got the internship.” You didn’t allow yourself to seem too excited, afraid of what his reaction would be.

After a moment of stillness that made you want to shrink into yourself, a soft smile crept across his face. You told yourself it was just how he expressed his happiness and not a forced happiness so you wouldn’t suspect he was unhappy with the news. Because why would he be unhappy that you’d gotten something you wanted, something that was inherently beneficial for you?

(A quiet voice whispered it was because he didn’t give it to you, that he had no control over what happened at the internship. You told it to shut up. You’ve been doing that a lot lately.)

“Well. I think that deserves a celebratory dinner.”

You pushed down the uncertain voice, deciding to ignore its whispers in favor of a seed of giddy excitement. You allowed yourself to finally smile.

“Like a date?”

“Why not?” His voice was casual.

Jonathan was rarely casual.

But you were too excited over the prospect of an actual date to care.

“Okay, um, I can meet you at your place-”

“How about I pick you up?”

You wanted to protest. You didn’t need him to do that anymore, not now when you had a car of your own. The fragile grasp you had on control of your life was not something you wanted to be plucked away from you so easily.

But then Jonathan took his glasses off, folding them neatly before looking up at you. “Let me do this for you?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked you this, and he did it in the same way both times. His voice low, soft and pleading. There was something immensely satisfying with hearing him ask you for permission to do something kind for you.

Of course you gave in every time.

For being your first “date” with him, dinner was uneventful. Uninteresting, even. You told him more about the internship while you sipped an overly expensive drink (Jonathan’s treat. Who were you to say no to free alcohol?) He wasn’t drinking, the car keys in his pocket the only reason he needed to give for his abstinence.

Your waitress took your order and your menus and you realized that you had exhausted all information you had about the internship. Jonathan took a slow sip of his water, offering nothing.

You looked into your glass of whatever- you weren’t quite sure what you had ordered to drink aside from the fact that it was good and definitely had wine in it from the way you were starting to flush with desire- and sighed.

“I’m sorry I’ve been distant lately. I’ve been busy with the end of the semester and haven’t felt like-” You paused, unsure of how to say that you hadn’t been in the mood for intimacy. You didn’t want Jonathan to get the idea that you only went over to his place to fuck, even if the night always ended with your bodies intertwined.

“I understand.” He put his glass down, right back onto the ring of condensation that had formed on the table.

You murmured a thanks.

The rest of the dinner passed by with him asking you how you enjoyed being his TA (which almost made you laugh considering how little work you ended up doing), you asking him what his teaching schedule was like (Abnormal Psychology and Intro to Psychology, no special topics for his fall semester), and mindless discussion on the muggy weather outside (summer in Gotham was unbearable in its humidity, the rain was almost a relief).

Soon enough, you were walking on slightly wobbly feet to his car, where it was only a short drive back to his apartment. He hadn’t even asked if you wanted to just go back home.

He knew you didn’t, your heavy gaze and shifting in your seat informing him of what you wanted- no, needed from him.

But he beat you to it. Before you could even manhandle him into a position where you could take what you wanted from him, he had you pushed down onto his bed, the dress you’d worn for the evening peeled up off your body and your underwear pulled off, your bra thrown somewhere.

Jonathan was between your legs, still fully clothed though his suit jacket had been taken off as soon as you’d entered his apartment. Instead of diving in, you watched as he slowly rolled his sleeves up over his forearms, exposing his taut skin and the lean muscles underneath.

Not for the first time, you wondered how he built those muscles and yet never mentioned working out.

Then, delicately, Jonathan pushed your thighs apart, revealing yourself to his hungry gaze. You only had a moment to prepare your

Jonathan had eaten you out a few times since you’d first been together (and you never forgot that it was the first intimate thing he’d ever done with you, the memory always leaving your skin warm), but each time he did it as eagerly as he had the first time.

You’d been slowly sobering up since you’d left the restaurant but his touch on your skin, his mouth on your cunt left you feeling like you’d never stopped drinking.

It hadn’t been that long since you’d last been with Jonathan. Yet in that time your body had forgotten how electrifying his touch was, how it lit fires in its wake as it trailed down your body and over your sensitive nerves.

He takes his time with you, drawing out exhales and gasps from you slowly, only adding another finger when your pleasure plateaus. He proves himself more in tune with your body than you’d even realized, able to read each quiver of your flesh and correspond his own worship to continue pulling you to a climax.

Tonight he is not satisfied with one orgasm, or two. He coaxes and snatches them from you, his tongue and fingers and cock pulling each one from you with whispered praise and gentle admonishments. He rewards you for each one with a kiss and gives you his own orgasm like it's just another gift.

You fall asleep at midnight, sweating and wrung out from the night’s activities. He’s right beside you, toying with a lock of your hair between two fingers that had just been inside of you.

When you wake in the morning, daylight streams in through the half-open blinds on Jonathan’s window. Blinking away the last remnants of sleep, you stared at the clock on his bedside table, starting when you realized what day it was. Because Jonathan had picked you up, you needed to wait until he was ready to release you back into the world to return home.

And you had places to be this evening.

next part.

[inanimatefan1]

Did not go as planned (Collage roommate Sneaker TF Story) PART 6 (Collage)

The wheel of time continues its relentless spin, but life doesn't get any easier for Alex and his family. His mother's grueling double shifts and Alex's two jobs barely make ends meet, while the bills and responsibilities seem to multiply by the day. Yet, despite the hardships, Alex remains focused on his education, first completing high school and now diving into community college courses whenever he can steal a moment. I watch—or rather, feel—this all unfold from my unique vantage point. Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. I have been with him through every season, every part-time job, every exam, and every family crisis. Though I'm growing older and showing signs of wear, Alex's mother continues to work her miracles, patching me up here and there, extending my lifespan as good as she can.

In this long journey, Alex's scent has become so deeply embedded into me that it's become a part of my very fabric. It's the aroma of hard work, determination, and, dare I say, love. I've absorbed it all, each layer of scent adding another chapter to our shared story. Alex continues to hustle, squeezing in study sessions at the library, in the break room at work, and late into the night at the small table in their cramped living space. His eyes may be red from exhaustion, but they're also filled with hope, a glimmer that never goes out. He’s working for something bigger than himself, and I'm proud to carry him toward that future. As the years go by, it's clear that Alex is building towards something. Though the struggle is far from over, every time he laces me up, I feel an overwhelming sense of pride and honor. For Alex, I'm not just footwear; I'm a piece of his journey, a journey fraught with hardships but also rich in love, sacrifice, and unyielding resolve.

Did not go as planned (Collage roommate Sneaker TF Story) PART 7 (the End)

As Alex walks across the stage to receive his diploma in mechanical engineering, I can almost feel the weight of the parchment in his hands—though of course, I'm not there. I am, however, with him in spirit, imbued with years of his hard work, sacrifice, and hopes for a better future. His degree is not just a piece of paper; it's a triumph, a lifeline to new opportunities and a testament to his resilience and ambition. A few months and numerous interviews later, Alex lands a job in his field. It's a pivotal moment, one that promises to ease the burden of financial hardship that has weighed on him and his family for so long. Though he attempts to juggle this new job with his other commitments, he soon realizes that something has to give. With a heavy heart, he bids farewell to the grocery store job that saw him through so many years, thanking the manager who took a chance on him when he was just a kid. Though he leaves the grocery store, Alex opts to keep his morning paper delivery job. It now fits conveniently with his primary job's schedule, and perhaps there's a part of him that isn't quite ready to let go of that routine, that connection to a humbler time. With the new job, life starts to change for Alex and his family. The financial strain eases, albeit gradually, and there's a palpable sense of relief in the household. For the first time in a long while, there's breathing room, an ability to look toward the future rather than just surviving the present. And so, as Alex steps into this new chapter of his life, I continue to be with him every step of the way. His scent—now a complex blend of youthful struggle and adult achievement—is as ingrained in me as ever, a scent I've come to regard as the essence of resilience and hope.

Though Alex has been provided with workwear by his new employer, he continues to wear me, his trusty sneakers, showing his loyalty to something that's been with him through thick and thin. However, his boss takes notice of my worn-out state, likely drawing conclusions about Alex's financial background based on the condition of his clothing and shoes. One day, his boss presents him with a new pair of work-appropriate shoes. Though it goes against his emotional ties to me, Alex knows deep down that my years of wear and tear make me unsuitable for the rigors of his engineering job. Reluctantly, he accepts the new shoes, understanding their practical necessity. He wears them at work, but the moment he's off the clock, he switches back into me. Being replaced, even if it's just for the workday, stings initially. But then I realize that this is another transition in Alex's life, another sign of his upward mobility and the improving fortunes of his family. In that light, the new shoes don't feel like a replacement; they feel like a complement, another chapter in a story that has room for more characters. And so, in the evenings and on weekends, when the work shoes are set aside, Alex slips back into me. I savor those moments, the feel of his feet, the unique scent that I've come to adore. And each time he chooses to wear me during his free time, I feel a swell of pride and affection. After all, I am more than just a pair of shoes to Alex; I am a cherished companion in his life's journey.

It becomes a new routine for us: he wears the new, professional shoes for his job, but in the moments that matter—family outings, trips to the grocery store, or simply lounging around the house—it's me he chooses. And that choice says more than words ever could. I may not be the only pair of shoes in Alex's life anymore, but I know I still hold a special place in his heart. And that's more than enough for me.

Even as I witness the profound changes in Alex's life—the new job, the newfound financial security, and the lifting of old burdens—I can't help but feel a twinge of uncertainty when I see him bring home a brand-new pair of sneakers. Bought by his mother, no less, a woman who knows the value of hard-earned money and the sentimentality of treasured possessions.

As the weeks go by, Alex starts to wear the new sneakers more frequently, and I can sense a shift. From my spot near his bed, I watch as he increasingly chooses them over me. Though I would never begrudge him this new chapter of comfort and choice, I do wonder what this means for me. After all, to Alex, I'm just a pair of sneakers, and he has a new pair now. But even as I'm relegated to this less-active role, I take solace in my placement near his bed—a position of honor, it feels like. I may not be the shoes he slips on every day anymore, but I'm still here, still part of his life. Perhaps I've moved from being a daily necessity to being a cherished memory, a reminder of the journey he's taken to get to this better place. It's not the same as feeling the press of his feet or the warmth of his daily wear, but it's something. And in those quiet moments when he looks my way, perhaps recalling the miles we've walked together, I can't help but hope that someday, he might slip me on again, if only for old times' sake.

The End.

[vent-channel]

A lot has happened but I got clean for a little while again (over a week now). I am so tired though still. I have many exams

Tomorrow I have my maths exam. The grade I get on maths will determine where I go with my life the next two years. If I get under a 6 I very well might just quit school and try to home-ed myself since I won’t be able to get into the sixth form I want if I don’t and I can’t go to my secondary’s sixth form. I don’t go to school aside from exams now so revision is on me. But I am very fatigued as the exam today had a slightly different time and it stressed me greatly. And revision is barely coming to me at all.

My biggest fear is having an actual meltdown in the exam. I have cried in several already even with my accommodations since being in school/exam conditions is very stressful for me, but it’s never been particularly disruptive and I still did the test.

I constantly want to bash my head into the desk but if I do I ruin everyone else tests as well. Already worried about it since I fidget a lot and I am allowed my tangle in which makes a bit of noise.

No amount of accommodations can save me from being burnt out and the damage that is already done. I kind of wish people had taken more notice of the near-daily sh I did at one point and just pulled me out. The school is not made for autistic people. And no matter how many accommodations there’s still over 2000 people and nobody in England likes autistic people let’s be real. You either get condescending SEN adults or bullies call you various slurs and nobody care. I think that there is a large politeness culture here but when you’re autistic (funnily enough) you get to see beyond it, not because you’re good at reading things but because it’s socially acceptable to treat people who can’t act ‘correctly’ like crap lol.

It’s really hard to take people who say ‘the majority of people are good’ seriously when the majority of people are not good. Like I have friends but let’s be so honest here. I get that a lot of people mature as adults but that doesn’t mean they’ve changed it just means they have enough brain cells to not say things that get them fired

[rubyvhs]

part eight, maybe let’s not flip the dinner table [jensen ackles]

series masterlist | main masterlist

eight,

Tuesday morning i make breakfast for me and Rachel then she heads out and I let out an exhale, thankful. i have too much going on to have someone around me right now.

The rest of the day I cover different chapters of the module, walking around my apartment with the flashcards in one hand and stickers in the other (my mum used to do it so it became a habit to add a silver star whenever I ace a flashcard). 

It doesn't take long until I'm done, and by 'long' I mean it only took the whole day. I'm not sure when the last time I ate was, but I finished over 12 hours of work and I've practiced and watched my lectures and am absolutely wasted. 

Rachel texts at the end of the day to make sure I'm okay and actually studying, to which I respond with a picture of my crossed off to do list. Everything I wanted done for the day is completed so I settle on relax with some takeout before my phone pings with a text.

   We on for tomorrow?

   Yeah, why, what's up?

Jensen never struck me as the type of guy to ask if we're 'still on' for plans. 

   Didn't know you had an exam

Fucking Rachel.

   Who told you?

   Does it matter? 

   Yes.

   Jared said you told Gen you were stressed

   for your exam this week. Is it after we meet

   up?

   Yeah but it's nothing, I've already studied,

   I don't mind going out. 

   You sure?

Now it feels like a father lecturing their child. Rachel was right, this age thing isn't easy. 

   Jensen if you don't want to go you can

   cancel.

Okay, maybe that was a little harsh, but it isn't fun being undermined. Although he's right, I probably wouldn't cancel unless my exam was the day after, still, no one wants to seem like a kid. 

   What?

   Are you trying to cancel?

   No, but I don't want to take up your time if you're busy. 

   I'm not, I'm looking forward to going out.

I can't believe I said that, not that taking it back is an option. 

   Me too. I'll see you tomorrow.

I bite the skin around my nails, tapping my foot on the floor to get some kind of release. Obviously that was rude and he was just trying to be the incredibly thoughtful person that he is but i don't like how he's implying that i'd just let him run all over me... whether that's the truth or not is irrelevant.

With that low blow, I decide to plan the rest of my day tomorrow, my outfit for Jensen's date, and the topics that need to be revised, I even planned out my two meals of the day. Maybe it won't go badly, maybe there'll be time tomorrow to finish everything.

+

My alarm decided to take a long vacation this morning so I woke up three hours later than decided. So at ten in the morning, which only gave me so much time to finish revising my module and get ready, the grind began.

I sat at my desk, determined to get everything I'd planned done in time even if I started late. I start with the notes I had to redo, more lectures, practice questions. I do it again and again then I start on the new module for next week's exam. I'm only a few chapters behind when it's lunch time and because I didn't have breakfast, I jump off my desk and heat up the rice and salmon I had prepared yesterday. 

After lunch I get a text from Jensen asking if he should come pick me up and I tell him it's fine, it's only two in the afternoon but he's already thinking of me and it's the sweetest frickin' thing. I’m probably blowing the text out of proportion but still, it’s charming.

I would love from him to drive me back and forth but it would make me feel guilty beyond belief, so i decided to it's better to walk for ten minutes, besides, I wanted to get there a few hours early so I could spend some time studying in the cafes next to the bar. 

"Gen," I whine into my phone, looking through my closet again. I had picked out my most flattering white jeans and a blue flow-y top to go with it but when I woke up, the jeans are soaked. I don't even want to know how (though my upstairs neighbor who’s over sixty and forgets that's she can't just throw her water over the balcony might have an idea).

"Lils, you need to calm down—"

"No! Don't say that. I had everything planned out, down to what I was going to eat today and then nothing went right. I didn't finish my revision, I don't have my outfit, I didn't have breakfast and didn't even get to finish my lunch! I'm frickin' panicking over here!"

I hear the soft laughter on the other side and i frown further, "Jared if that you I'm going to—"

"No, sweetheart, not Jared." That's great. That awesome. That's amazing. Spectacular even. Incredible. Why wouldn't Gen have me on speaker for Jensen Ross Ackles to hear? Why wouldn't she?

"Sorry, babe, I didn't know you'd rant before I even said hello."

"And stopping me halfway wasn't an option? Even mid sentence at any point?"

It's Jensen's voice that speakers up this time, "Then we couldn't find out what's bothering you and fix it. We can push the time back?" I hear some rustling and assume he took the phone from Gen as his voice comes closer to the microphone and becomes clearer. "Make it eight or nine so you could finish the work you wanted to get done. I already told you we can push it back—"

"Don't want to. Eight works."

"Okay, that's good. We'll get drinks at eight, and lunch now."

"What?"

"You said your favorite's sushi, right?"

"Yeah, ages ago, Jensen."

"'It change?"

"No but why?"

"DoorDash. Besides, sushi is easy to eat while you're studying and you don't have to waste time on cooking either." That's cute but also slightly inconsiderate because I am a med student with loans so high you couldn't look over them to see my future, that's the whole reason I walk everywhere, so him making me pay for my lunch when I could've easily made it doesn't sit right with me.

"You there?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Jens. You’re honestly amazing." I hear a chuckle before there's more shuffling that covers up his next words then "—take care of yourself." And the call ends. 

I get back to my desk only to notice that the whole reason I'd called Gen in the first place, my damn outfit crisis, hasn't even been resolved. 

   Don't worry, I got it covered. 

   Your clothes.

Is he really a man? Why would Danneel ever leave him. He's done nothing but be considerate, then sweet, then downright incredible. He's thought of everything when I couldn't because of how stressed I was but he still let me do it my way, by going on the date with him. I didn't want to let that part go, I want us to get the awkward first date out of the way.

Fourth minutes later i hear my doorbell ring so I grab some cash, hoping Jensen hadn't spend more than fifty dollars, and open it. A young man hands me a bag with the logo and writing, sushi bar, and then another white bag with nothing on it. I ask how much and he quickly tells me it's already payed for.

My first thought is, thank God, I'm too broke for this. My second thought is, holy shit Jensen just brought me lunch, to eat on my own. It's the most romantic thing anyone's ever done in the history of the world even if he intended for it to be totally platonic. 

I open the white bag to see my exact favorite pair white jeans, just a size smaller, probably to fit Genevieve, and a pink top that's not too similar to mine but at least it looks comfortable. It's not the outfit I wanted so desperately to wear but it's close enough. So I finish my food while doing my hair and makeup, then I get dressed and notice that this size is way better than mine (meaning I might never return it to Gen). 

I put on my boots, grab my book bag and head out. It's only six when I head out and by the time I arrive, order my coffee, and start studying again, it's seven. 

I get hardly any work done, between thinking of all the ways I'm going to embarrass myself, and how insanely attractive Jensen Ackles is, I've managed to cut my study time to three minutes, maximum. 

My phone rings and my heart immediately jumps, beating way faster that it should be at this point. I let it ring for a few seconds so I can calm myself down and not sound like a two year old before answering, "Hey, Jensen." God why do I sound like his secretary.

"Laila, you ready? I'm on my way."

"Yeah, I'm already here."

"You are? Didn't wanna waste your time, I could've drove you. 'Sides I'm still ten minutes away."

"Take your time, I'll save us a booth." He agrees and tells me to take care again, and then ends the call. I move from the café to the bar down the street where we agreed to meet. I get a table and usher someone over. I'm not exactly sure what Jensen drinks but since I order myself a cherry cola, I get him a beer. She asks if she should start a tab and i hand her my credit card, praying my parents are asleep right now and not getting any notifications. I know I'm an 'independent woman', but I'm also someone with serious money spending issues, if they didn't keep me in check all the time I think I'd actually go broke.

Speaking of, I go to text my mother before I see someone's hand on my shoulder, soft and inviting. I look up and see none other than Jensen, white jeans jacket, similar colored shirt underneath, and loosely fitted jeans. I stand up and smile, greeting him with a kiss on his cheek, though I never actually get close enough and he pulls me a little closer so we're almost touching.

"Hey, Jens."

"You looks great, Lils. I hope that means you liked it?" I feel the blood rush to my cheeks as I sit back in the booth, opposite to him.

"Loved it. Thank you for being so thoughtful, honestly, I mean I could've found anything other—"

"No, I'm glad it worked out the way it did. You eat?" I nod again taking out my phone to show him the multiple pictures I snapped of both myself and my sushi filled plate. 

"Honestly, best shit I've ever tasted. You should try it." He chuckles, nodding. 

"Yeah, used to go there all the time. Best place in California. Nothin' beats the Texas barbecue though."

I roll my eyes and pull my phone back from him, crossing my legs under the table, "You'd think barbecue is the best."

"It isn't?" He teases, almost amused. 

"Hello? Sushi exists! Texas doesn't stand a chance against sushi. And anyways, 'S not fair cause you're from Dallas. If you had to pick any other dish, what would it be?"

Only God knows why I am both speaking and asking questions right now but Jensen seems pleased, quick to fire back Mexican, to which I respond with Nah, too close. 

Our drinks arrive and i thank the waitress and shoo her off quickly before Jensen tries to take out his credit card. "Started the tab with mine," I explain when he looked at me confused, he nods and holds his glass, then examines mine. "You don't like beer? I'm sorry I just didn't know what to get you and I had ordered for myself."

"No, no this is great. I'm just curious, not a big drinker?" He nods at my coke and i shrug, sipping to avoid the topic.

"We used to stock up on cherry colas whenever you came so I'm guessing that's your drink of choice?"

"Always. I don't think I've ever passed a day without it." I take another sip and he looks at me in this... way. His green eyes, crinkles on the side giving him an old time look. And his hair. He really grew it out this past year, I could almost see Jared in him at this point, it's really distracting and... beautiful. Though I'm sure Bob will have him cut it any day now. I notice that I'm staring and quickly push my drink towards him, "try?"

He takes it from my hand, our fingers brushing, and sips from the same straw I was just using three seconds ago. His expression says it's good but I think mine says 'fuck me'. It wouldn’t be far off from what I really want.

"I can see why you like it. Too sweet though."

"So's your beer," i retort way too quickly, defending my comfort drink. But I didn't mean it in a mean way, I'm sure he knows it too cause his expression's all taunting now and I don't like it.

"You tried it?"

"Don't drink." I smile tightly for a second. I walked right into that one.

"How'd you know then?"

"Dan mentioned it, said she likes it cause it's sweet enough for her taste but not too sweet that you don't like it." I didn't even know beer could be sweet. In my defense, I don't know what beer tastes like.

"Yeah, her main focus was on making it sugary, told her we could make a sweet one that isn't our main product but she wouldn't have it." I laugh a little with him but i also notice the light in his eyes dim a bit and his shoulders slumping. I don't think we should talk about Danneel today.

"She knows what the public likes," I shrug but decide to move on quickly, "what do you like most about your beer?" 

The conversation doesn't end the whole night and it's honestly refreshing. Overthinking is my speciality so when we don't stop jumping from one topic to the other, I have less time to focus on that. He's also really sweet. He's asking about everything I wouldn't tell another person about me but in the most non invasive way possible.

Dan mentioned you moved from egypt. That must’ve been hard. Why’d you leave. Where’re your parents?

You never talked when we first met, can't believe how fast you got on with Jared. How are you, Jared and Gen so close? 

"Yeah. I don't know, Jared's always been so...open, I guess. I'm very closed off and to have someone that both accepts that and also tried to help me with it, it definitely made me like him the second we met." He nods, checking his phone for a second. Probably the time. "Is it late? Should we head out?"

"No, no, that's not—" I think he notices that the question wasn't for his sake, but for my shivering body's, and he smiles. "You cold?"

"Nah," I play it off, leaning back in my chair though I'm still hugging myself and have abandoned my second cherry cola for the night. "I'm good. Hot as a bee."

"As a bee?"

"I don't know, okay? I'm shivering!" He chuckles and tells me to stay put, that he'll be right back. Five minutes later he's walking up to our booth, telling me to get up so we could leave.

"But my—" he hands me my visa and I smile, placing it in my wallet. Right as we're at the door of the bar he shrugs off his jacket to places it on my shoulders. My pink sleeves are visible as i hug the jacket around me and i smile up at him, he's walking me to his car and i quickly notice, shaking my head. Not wanting to assume, I quickly say, "bye, Jens. Thanks for today."

"Hm?" He seems confused as he open the passengers door.

"Jensen..." he already opened the door and I don't wanna seem rude but—

"Laila? You comin' in?"

"You don't have to, Jensen."

"I know. I want to. C'mon." I sigh and enter the car, letting him close the door behind me. I decide putting the jacket on right quickly before he makes his way to the drivers seat of his white BMW, which by the way— frickin' gorgeous.

"You know the way?" He asks as he starts the car. I still feel really, really guilty.

"Yeah, sure, it's only down the street. I could've walked." He looks amused and starts driving.

"Wasn't gonna let you walk anyways." I feel the heat rush to my cheeks and I turn on my phone to distract myself. I see notifications from Gen, Rachel and Adri. Then my mum who I didn't talk to today. But... no message from my bank.

"That's weird," I mumble and Jensen makes a  sound that I took as him questioning me, “I don't see the charge from the bar. It should've sent a message."

"Didn't charge your card." I quickly leave my phone to look at him. "Gave 'em mine."

"Oh my God!" I roll my eyes but he only looks amused.

"What? Did you think I'd let you pay?"

"You should've." I sigh. "Jensen you're like paying for everything. You got me new clothes—"

"They're Gen's. I thought you'd know that." 

"Obviously I know that, but I mean you had them delivered to my house, that costs money. And the bar. Only thing I paid for today was the coffee."

"What coffee?"

"I was studying at a café on the opposite street. I came a few hours early. Anyways, Jensen, please don't. You don't need to pay for every single thing. I know I'm not an actor— stop here, that's the house," he does park right in front of my apartment, "I know I'm not an actor, but I'm fully capable of—"

"Hey, what?" He puts the car into park and faces me. I start to take my seatbelt off.

"I know I'm not as good as the rest of you, like of course I'm not, I'm a student, but—"

"Laila, that isn't why I'm paying. I'd do it whether you were an actor or not— or if you had or don't have the money. It's cause we're going out."

Right. Like on a date? Instead of asking, though there's nothing more enticing, i let the silence take over. Then, "Yeah, I know. You're just nice like that."

"Is that a bad thing? I don't know if you'd rather pay next time—" next time? "But I don't think I'd let you."

"Yeah, it's fine. Still, thanks for tonight, you're honestly the most incredible guy I've ever met and I don't know why I really ignored you ever in the first place."

"We're all wonderin', sweetheart." We both laugh, the beer still clearly running through his system though he's only had two. I go to say my goodbye but notice how close we are. Way way way too close. Too too close. Maybe we should back up? 

"Laila," his voice's rough and slow and oh so seductive.

The car smells faintly of cigarette smoke and maybe that's what's Jens's scent smells slightly off too. Has he started smoking again? I'm not sure I can think logically like that right now because his hand is on my neck (how did it get there) and my breathing's erratic and his lips are moving closer to mine.

Not being able to take the tension and slow motion dance anymore, i lean in much closer to close the distance. "Jensen." I moan against his lips but I don't think it registers to him just how rough he's being because he's crashing our lips like it's our last time together, his tongue is exploring mine within seconds and I feel silly wanting to tell him that this is my first time now. 

Maybe he notices though, because only thirty seconds later our lips are disconnected and we're breathing heavily against the other though it wasn't that long, "Fuck, Laila, you're so good."

At kissing? That's a lie. "Really? 'Cause that was my first time, so..."

I see him straighten up, his hand slowly falling from the hold it has on my neck, "First what?" His hand is on my thigh now since I'm facing him by propping half my leg on the chair.

"Kiss."

"You're serious?" Nodding once, I notice how disheveled he looks. God, you'd think I told him he just took my virginity. Well, yeah, he would also be doing that.

"I'm sorry..." I whisper, hoping he'd hear me just enough, I stare at his hand on my thigh and feel stupid. God, this always happens. Anytime someone knows about me being a kissing-virgin they think I'm a prude or religious or something! 

I just haven't... I haven't had the chance. 

"Laila, no. Don't apologize." I almost do it again. "I'm not mad or anything just, should've told me. I mean, you kissed me."

"Yeah," I scoff. This is why I was so fucking scared. I know I kissed him first but he's saying it like he's accusing me. Like I'm a slut.

I've never even kissed anyone and the first time I do he's already looking at me like I kissed twenty men before him. My head's involuntarily shaking, saying no no no, and I try to open the car door. 

"Laila. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" I let out a huff of exasperation, "What’s wrong is that I'm sorry I did that, I can't believe I did that." I slam the door closed and walk into my apartment complex.

His car door opens then shuts back up with a loud smack as he walks over to me in a quicker pace. "Laila!" He sounds too serious for me to ignore him. Rachel was right again. I didn't stop because I care and I want to listen, I stopped because I was scared of him.

"I don't know what you think I meant by that— but all I mean is that I was surprised. Are you okay? Are you regretting it, is that it?"

"No, but you said it like I was stupid for letting you kiss me— or me kissing you or whatever. You make it sound like I gave you my virginity or something."

His eyes widen. "Lils, I didn't insult you if that's what you're getting at. And is giving your virginity up to me that bad?" He smirks a little and it eases my heartbeat.

"Not what I meant, you know that." I mutter but it's weak and he knows it. He nods and walks closer to me, one hand on each of my shoulders. "Sorry."

"Stop apologizing, please. I liked going out with you today, no matter how it ended. Do you want us to do it again?"

I nod. 

"Good, then we will. Stop thinking about everything. We had fun, you liked it. Stop torturing yourself, darlin'." 

"Yeah. Did you? Enjoy it, I mean."

He leans down to kiss my cheek, "'Course I did. Can't wait to do it again on Sunday." I smile so wide I can't even stop it if I tried.

"Me too." 

“Good.” He doesn’t let go and i look up at him through my eyelashes once before placing my hands on his face to force him to lean down and I kiss him again. I’m not sure what I’m doing— it’s only my first time, but I think I’m doing an okay job of moving against him. 

I’m sure he thinks the same way as his hands drop to my hips, pulling me closer. It’s only a few seconds but it felt like hours. When I let go of my grip on him and the kiss he smiles. 

“Sunday?” I nod, mirroring his expression. 

Our goodbye is so easy and quick it makes me forget that I still have his jacket on. 

And I only notice when I'm in my apartment, taking my (Gen's) clothes off, one or two hours later.

What I was doing in the time in between is irrelevant (since it consisted of texting Gen about every single detail except for the fact that I acted like a complete idiot at the end and getting her reaction then doing the same thing with Rachel and Adri).

It's almost two when I text him;

You get home okay?

You forgot your jacket.

Yeah, Lils, just fine.

And it's insurance that you'll come next time.

Pretty sure that'd mean you need to have something of mine. Not the other way around.

Nah, you're too nice to let my things stay at your place.

I laugh a little and send him a picture that I'm still wearing it over my pajamas (which are a green skin tight top and sweatpants).

Jeans and sweatpants?

Your jeans jacket is weirdly comfortable. I don't think it's jeans.

It isn't, much more comfortable, still looks good though.

Looks great on you.

Yeah?

Are we flirting right now? This hurts my head.

Well duh, I'm wearing it.

Not what I meant, sweetheart.

Maybe we are. I can't do this over text.

Okay and you're kind of hot in it too.

Kind of?

Didn't know you were so full of yourself, Jens.

Didn't know you liked my clothes so much that you're wearing them to bed.

I notice that I in-fact did send the picture with me in my bed. Whatever, no big deal.

Goodnight, Lils.

Night, Jensen.

part nine

guys okay guess which word comes to mind when I think of Jensen… omg, incredible you say? How’d you guess! Hahah I’m sure it was a lucky guess.

also incase you ever wondered I do have a face claim for Laila should I post it one time or does that ruin the way you see her? Let me know, maybe I can show her next chapter. Also, schools over, so hopefully many more series and more chapter of this one, to come!

@kr804573 @n-o-p-e-never

[roleplay-today]

Hi there! 

My name is Shiro, and I’m looking for someone who’s just as self-indulgent and passionate as I am for reverse harems. I want someone who enjoys large amounts of men who want to romance our characters and can play upwards of 20 characters, as I will be doing the same. 

Info about me ~ I am a 22-year-old woman (she/her) who lives in EST. I am in university and work, so my responses will vary. However, I try to respond when I can, as role-playing is my hobby. 

Rule #1. You must be 18 or older! I am not role-playing with children. 

Rule #2.  Please be able to respond multiple times a week. Nothing kills my vibe more than waiting for a response every two weeks. I understand we have lives outside the internet, but I’m more likely to forget and become disinterested in the role play as time passes.

Rule #3.  Ladies, gents, non-binary folks: this will be a double-up role play if I haven’t made that clear yet! 

Rule #4. I am a semi-literate to advanced literate role play. BUT don’t force yourself to write more than is necessary. I’d rather have quality over quantity. I’m fine as long as I have something to work with. Now, onto the fun ~

________________________________________

Ouran High School Host Club

Ouran High is a school for the extremely wealthy or, in YC’s case, the highly talented. However, no amount of talent will help when YC accidentally drops an eight million yen vase in a music room. The vase was the property of Ouran High School Host Club, a group of attractive young men who, for a fee, provide their time and affections for their lovesick clientele: the female students. Fascinated by this strange new specimen, a poor and clumsy commoner, they force YC to work for them until the debt is repaid, but they get much more than they bargained for…

Options: 1.2.3.4.5

Hakuoki

Disguised as the opposite gender, YC has come to Kyoto searching for their missing father. This doctor developed a magical elixir that increases the drinker's speed, strength, and healing abilities. Instead of their father, they stumble across a battle between the Shinsengumi and the Furies, evil vampire-like creatures of their own making.

Options: 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.10.11.12

Kamigami no Asobi

YC discovers a mighty sword that transports them to another world. There, this ordinary high school student finds themself face-to-face with the mighty Greek god Zeus, who has an unusual request: remain in the dimension he has created and attend a school of legendary proportions. Zeus acts as dean for a school of young, misguided gods. The bond between humans and gods has weakened, and it is now up to YC to teach the gods about love and what it means to be human.

Options: 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.10

Free!

When Haruka, Makoto, Nagisa, Rin, and YC were in elementary school, they swam together in a relay race and won the match. As Rin was on his way to Australia to train to become an Olympic champion, the gang decided to bury their trophy in a time capsule and retrieve it when they all had grown up. Now, Haruka, Makoto, Nagisa, and YC have reunited in high school and decide to dig up the prize. But on the way there, they run into none other than Rin, and he's determined to show Haru who's the best! As a result of this fateful meeting, the four friends decide to start a swim club, along with fellow classmate Rei, and their rival's little sister Gou as the team manager. Can the gang hold their own against Rin and prove their skills at the Prefectural Tournament?

Options: 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.10.11.12.13.14.15.16.17

Uta no Prince Sama

When YC gets the chance to take the entrance exam for Saotome Academy for the Performing Arts, it seems as though they’re one step closer to their dream of composing songs for their favorite singer, Hayato. However, this is no gleeful high school musical experience, and YC is hiding a dreadful secret that may silence their musical ambitions forever. And even if they do get into Saotome, the competition will be more brutal than going on Japan’s Top Idol!

Options: 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.10.11.12.13.14.15.16.17

Dance with Devils

YC has the perfect school-to-life balance, but all of that’s thrown into chaos when they discover that several of their handsome male classmates are actually demons in disguise.

Options: 1.2.3.4.5.6.7

Amnesia

When YC regains consciousness in an unfamiliar place, they have suddenly lost all memories of everything that happened before August 1. What is this place, and what were they doing there? Who are they, and what sort of life had they lived?

Options: 1.2.3.4.5

Diabolik Lovers

After their father moves and leaves them behind, YC arrives at the mansion they must now call their home, unaware of the horrors that await them. For YC’s new housemates are vampires, and they’ve been sent to live with them by the church as their prospective spouse-to-be. But what sounds like the subject of a romance novel soon turns to despair, as these fanged beauties are delighted to have a new plaything to torment and will stop at nothing to force themselves upon them and drink their blood. YC must now learn to cope with their new life of being sadistically abused at every turn, whether they’re called derogatory slurs, forced to feed the vampires’ bloodlust against their will, or being treated like the garbage they see them to be.

Options: 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.10.11.12

Vampire Knight

Cross Academy is a school with a difference: in a unique and experimental setup designed by the headmaster, it has a Day Class consisting of ordinary humans and a Night Class filled with vampires. YC and their friend Zero Kiryu are school prefects whose job it is to make sure the secret of the Night Class is always safe; they patrol the school grounds at night and supervise the switchover of classes at dawn and dusk to prevent any 'accidents' from happening. While Zero is suspicious of vampires and hates the idea of sharing the same space as them, YC admires the Night Class for their beauty and sophistication; they are especially intrigued by their charming leader, Kaname, because he once saved their life. However, as YC quickly learns, not all vampires are amiable like the Night Class, and as terrible events unfold, YC must ask themself whether in a world where vampires are the hunters and humans are the prey, peaceful coexistence can really be achieved.

Options: 1.2.3.4.5.6.7

[meadowofbluebells]

Sleep-Deprivation and Other Woes - Short Story

Summary: Patia had been studying for an exam for weeks - she was frazzled and exhausted. Her sister, Keller, tried to get her to take a break by convincing her to go to a ball that they were invited to.

Trigger Warnings: None

Genre: Historical Fantasy

Written By: meadowofbluebells

Notes: This piece was not based on a prompt. It was practice to help me determine the personalities and relationships of some of my characters. Therefore, despite being a historical fantasy, the story focuses more on the characters and less on the world.

~~~

At this point, she was seriously contemplating ripping out her hair. The pain would be trivial to the pounding agony between her eyes. She had read the same sentence three times over and was no closer to comprehending its meaning. A part of her wanted to simply collapse upon the table and forget the book even existed. She was certainly tired enough to fall asleep on the spot. The text wouldn’t read itself, though, and she needed to know the information before her exam. She groaned, preparing to read the sentence again, a part of her hoping that Dayanara would cut her string there and then, when an envelope was slammed down on the page she was reading. The table creaked at the sudden force put upon it. 

She jumped back, her eyes widening as she looked up to see a tall figure slowly swim into view. “Seriously, Keller? You could have broken my nose.”

Keller smirked. “If your nose ended up broken, it would be because you collapsed at the table. You’re exhausted.” She leaned against the wood edge, her hand still covering the textbook. 

“Yeah, well, I need to study.” Patia reached forward to tug the textbook closer. She glared up at Keller as the other girl put even more weight on the book. 

“You need sleep. Even your glare is lopsided.”

“This is an important exam.” 

“And you’ve been studying for weeks.” Keller's voice was deadpan. She tilted her head, staring Patia down. Patia avoided her gaze by looking up at the ceiling. The sound of their other sisters’ steps echoed from the floor above them and Addie was hard at work in the kitchen, a soft tune floated into the dining room as she bustled about. Keller tapped the envelope. “This is for you. Well, both of us.”

Patia glanced down at the envelope obscuring her textbook. With a sigh, she reached for it. Keller removed her hand, crossing her arms as she watched Patia examine it. The scent of the already broken wax seal floated under her nose. The brunette pulled the card out of the envelope, rubbing her thumb across the thick cardstock. 

“Aubrey Devans hereby invites Miss Patia Gellim and Miss Keller Gellim to a ball,” her eyes scanned the card, “on Wahdree 13th.” She furrowed her brows. “Keller, that’s today.” She glanced up at her sister, her eyes wide. 

“I know.”

Patia turned her eyes back to the envelope, turning it over to see the scrawled writing. “This invitation was sent over two weeks ago. Why am I only hearing about it now?”

“Because I knew you’d say no.”

Patia’s expression turned to one of exasperation. She tossed the invitation on the table. “Of course I’d say no. Why don’t you take Juana or Minerva?” She gestured toward the books scattered in front of her. Her shadow scurried across the table as she moved amidst the afternoon light. “I’m busy.”

“Because you’re due for a break.”

“Why do you want to go, anyway? You always say they are so dull.” She slumped back in her chair, allowing her hands to fall to the wrinkled folds of her dress. The tree outside the window fluttered as a light breeze danced through the branches. 

Keller shrugged. “They have their uses. Mom says that if I am to take over the company, I need to make some connections.” She smoothed her bodice, a swift action that Patia had long learned to associate with her sister. She still managed to look poised even though she was leaning on the table. Despite her exhaustion, Patia felt a flicker of envy deep in her chest. She didn’t think she could remember a time when she had seemed as put together as her sister, and she certainly wasn’t at that moment with her frizzy hair and rumpled dress. 

“Why don't you just go on your own? I’ve got work to do.” She pulled her book closer, studiously ignoring Keller as she attempted to get back to her reading. The paper crinkled as she ran her finger across the page, trying desperately to force her brain to memorize the text.   

She gritted her teeth as the words jumbled together before her eyes. Her brain refused to interpret even the simplest of words. Keller simply watched her as she furrowed her brow and tried again and again. With a groan, she flopped back in her chair. “Fine, I’ll go.” She gestured in frustration at her book. “It’s not like I’m making any progress anyway.” She slumped down, rubbing a hand across her face. Despite not having moved all day, her muscles ached with the movement. 

Keller gave her the faintest of smiles. “Good. You ought to go upstairs and rest for a while. I’ll wake you when we need to get ready.”

Patia opened her mouth to argue that she would be fine, but the room swam with the movement and her jaw snapped shut. She sighed, and stood, leaning on the wall as she made her way toward the stairs. Her whole body felt heavy. The floor never looked more comfortable. She was only kept moving by the promise of her warm bed. Now that she was away from her books, she was certain she would be asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. 

~~~

Patia awoke to Keller and Juana talking as they lounged in their respective beds. Their voices were a familiar sound, like a lullaby that soothed her mind. She rubbed her eyes, sighing delightedly as she burrowed further into her pillow. The warmth of the fabric lulled her further into that blissful place between sleep and wakefulness. She should have done this days ago. She had completely forgotten what it felt like to be well-rested. The chatter on the other end of the room disappeared as she allowed her eyes to fall closed again. 

“You better get up,” Juana called as she got out of her own bed. Her cheery voice was as loud as always, full of energy that grated against Patia’s sleep-addled mind. The floorboards creaked as the younger girl’s shoes tapped across the floor. She leaned over Patia’s bed. “The ball is in about two hours.” Her voice was full of excitement as she spoke.

“She’s right. Addie needs to know what dress you’re going to wear so that she can press it.” 

Patia grumbled lazily as she registered the amusement in Keller’s tone. “It’s so comfy, though.” She pulled the blanket closer, sighing as its weight settled around her. It felt like a warm embrace that she was well and truly convinced she’d never want to leave. 

“I’m thinking of wearing those dangly silver earrings we got at the market last year. They might look good with the gown I have picked out.” 

Patia peeked an eye open, staring at Keller from across the room. The other girl was nonchalantly analyzing her sleeve, her thumb smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle. Juana, the traitor, giggled beside her, the floor creaking beneath her as she leaned back on her heels.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Her groggy voice undermined the threatening words. 

Keller returned her gaze, leaning back against the wall and smirking. “I might.” She looked entirely unperturbed. In fact, there was a flicker of mirth in her purple eyes. 

“Fine,” Patia groaned, throwing the blankets off of her, “I’m getting up.” She rolled her eyes at Keller’s self-satisfied expression. “Are there any specifications about what we should wear?” She pulled open their wardrobe. She sighed as the scent of clean clothes tickled her nose. Her fingers curled around the cold metal of the handle as she analyzed her options. 

“No, just the usual.”

Patia hummed her acknowledgement. She reached forward, her fingers trailing over the different fabrics, feeling the differences in their texture. Each was a different shade of her signature pink, making the clothes stand out against the dark wood. Her fingers stilled as they landed on a gown made of a light fabric. She pulled it out and brought it to the mirror, pulling it up to her chest and twisting a bit to watch the way it moved. “What about this one?”

“It’s pretty,” Juana said, making her way to the vanity, “and it’ll look good with your earrings.” Her eyes were sparkling as she admired the dress. 

“What did you pick, Keller?”

“The dark red gown with a pair of white gloves. Addie is pressing it now.” 

 “Alright, I think this will match well.”

“We don’t need to match, Patia. We’re sisters, not brainless lovers.”

Patia made an exasperated expression in her mirror. “Still, we’re going to the ball together. It won’t do if our gowns look garish when we stand next to each other.”

Keller rolled her eyes, slowly getting out of bed and making her way toward the other occupants of the room. She gently pulled her hair out of its typical updo, grabbing a brush from the vanity to brush out her cascading curls. “Fine, just get it to Addie so that the poor girl isn’t rushing around to get it done before we leave.” 

 The next hour was spent in a flurry of movement. The girls scurried around the room as they put their hair up and picked their shoes. When their dresses were returned, they put them on, ensuring that the delicate fabric didn’t snag as Addie buttoned them up. It was a procedure that they knew well, having been out in society for a couple of years now. Juana, still new to it all, helped Patia put a flower ornament in her hair and decided which accessories worked best with Keller’s darker dress. Her excitement was practically palpable as she seemed to bounce around the room. She looked like an exuberant puppy, practically shaking with delight. 

The air was filled with the scent of floral perfume, and the candle situated on the vanity caused the light glinting off their jewelry to dance across the room. They moved from task to task fluidly, working together with the ease only sisters could master. Soon, they were just about ready and the hustle and bustle had calmed down. 

“Why don’t you come with us, Juana?” Patia tilted her head as she adjusted her earrings. The silver flowers shimmered as they dangled in the low light of the candle. She glanced into the mirror to see her younger sister sitting on her bed. 

“Mom says Ms. Devans only invited you two.” Juana’s legs swung with unspent energy, the movement of her bright red skirts caused shadows to dance across the floor. 

Patia turned around in her chair, laying her hands in her lap so that she wouldn’t mess up her hair by playing with it. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you came.”

Keller moved toward the vanity, grabbing a perfume bottle and dabbing some onto her neck. “It would be rude to bring guests the host is not prepared to accommodate.”

Juana groaned and flopped back on the bed. The pink blankets surrounding her puffed up with the movement. Her hair splayed out around her. 

Patia sighed, leaning against the back of her chair. “She could go in my place, I need to study that treatise on Jeanes Syndrome anyway.”

Juana quickly shot up, her face flooding with horror. “No way, you’re going. You’ve been driving everyone crazy studying for that exam.” 

Patia rolled her eyes and smiled good-naturedly at her sister. “It can’t have been that bad.”

“You nearly ran into a wall while reading yesterday.”

“The table has been covered in your notes,” Keller added. 

“The little ones said you managed to make their bedtime story about stomach aches a few nights back.”

“I had to beg you to run a brush through your hair.”

“Alright, alright.” Patia waved her hands around. “I get it. I’m stressed. I mean, do you know how many things could be on that test?” Her brown eyes widened as a panicked edge entered her tone. “Goodness, I forgot to study Bettons disease. I’m go-”

“You know what, if this is going to be your entire night, I’m happy I’m not going.” Juana hopped off the bed and made her way to the door. She clasped Keller on the shoulder as she passed and whispered, “Good luck with dealing with that all night.”

The two older girls watched her leave before Keller swung around to stare at Patia. Her dark red skirts floated about her feet with the movement. She crossed her arms and furrowed her brow. 

Patia cowered slightly under her gaze, reaching up to tug on her hair, only to stop at the last second. “What?”

Keller leaned towards Patia, her hand coming to rest on the vanity. “What are you truly afraid of?” Her purple eyes stared down at Patia unflinchingly. 

Patia squirmed in her seat, her earrings shivering on her earlobes as she moved. She wished Juana would return to save her from their sister’s piercing eyes. “Failing the exam.” The statement sounded more like a question. She bit her lip to hide her nerves. 

Keller leaned even closer. Her white gloves wrinkled as she grasped the polished wood beneath her palm. “Try again.”

Patia opened her mouth but closed it again when Keller raised an eyebrow. She licked her lips and looked away, her brown eyes scanning the wood planks beneath her feet. “I’m afraid that I won’t be as good as you.” The words were an ashamed whisper. She winced as they fell from her lips, leaving a sour taste on her tongue. 

Keller’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“It’s stupid, I know.” She dragged her gray slippers across the floor, watching them disappear under her pink skirts. “We’re not even going into the same field.” A broken laugh accompanied her words. “It all seems to come so easily to you. You pick up whatever Mom tells you so quickly. It’s like you know what she’s going to say before she even gets the words out.” She slumped. The light fabric that made up her sleeves fluttered around her shoulders. 

“Meanwhile, I read text after text and study for hours and hours and still struggle.” She looked down at her lap, squeezing her hands tightly together as she avoided Keller’s eyes. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment over the admission. If only the floor would swallow her whole. 

For a moment, Keller simply blinked down at the other girl, before she kneeled and took Patia’s hands within her own. She gently rubbed a thumb over her sister’s knuckles. “You know, I envy you too.” The words sounded heavy on her tongue, struggling to make themselves known. “I envy how easily you show that you are stressed and afraid. I envy the fact that you’re okay with admitting that sometimes everything is not okay.” She took a deep breath. “Do you know how many times I’ve wished I could convince myself to be as open as you?” Patia peeked at her, her lips still drawn in a thin line. “I might be better at learning on the go, Patia, but your capacity for emotional expression is something I will always cherish, and you know what?” She leaned in a little closer, a small, gentle smile overtaking her face. “I think it will make you an amazing healer, too. It makes you empathetic and warm, soft and gentle. Sometimes, Patia, that’s what patients really need, someone who can truly see them.”

Patia sniffled, blinking tears out of her eyes as she met Keller’s gaze. A soft warmth flooded her chest. The taller girl’s smile widened, and her purple eyes softened all the more. Patia flung herself forward, wrapping her arms around the other girl and sniffling into her neck. 

Keller wrapped her arms around her sister, rubbing her back gently. “You’re going to read your books and study hard. Then, one day, you’re going to use that endless well of empathy to become the best healer this city has to offer.”

“Promise?”

“I don’t need to promise, somewhere deep inside you know it’s true.”

Patia didn’t respond immediately. She simply held her sister all the tighter, her fingers curling into the fabric of Keller’s red dress. The sweet words had unfurled something in her, like a taut string finally being cut. Her muscles relaxed as the sensation flooded through her. For the first time in weeks, it felt like she could breathe. 

Eventually, she whispered into Keller’s neck, “Thank you.”  

~~~

Written By: meadowofbluebells

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 531, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby

WORDS: 1199

I smiled as Peter settled me onto the table, his hand lovingly cradling the side of my face in his hand for a moment before Elizabeth took up the bottle of rubbing alcohol and a cloth rag, waiting until I worked my sweater up over my dramatically popped out tummy, where the unborn babies were currently very busy working on practicing their trapeze act for the circus.

KICK PUNCH KICK PUNCH KICK PUNCH KICK PUNCH

Katie, little girl and Baby Tommy were folded criss cross applesauce on the floor, their older sister teaching the two babies a simple hand slap game.

“Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake baker’s man, bake me a cake as fast as you can,” sang out Katie as she gently slapped the babies’ hands. “Pat it and prick it and mark it with a "LG" and put it in the oven for little girl and me!”

Peter and Isabelle were both sitting in chairs, the Ratajczyk patriarch cradling a happily napping Baby Eve in his strong arms, the little six month old baby clinging to a strand of dyed waves.

A soft knock at the door turned out to be Dr. Isles, who entered the room and smiled at the calm chaos in the exam room. She pushed her glasses up further onto her nose as she scanned my file in her hands.

“Hello, Dr. Isles,” I greeted her as she eyeballed my tummy, sticky with residue from my husband’s duct tape. “I am about twenty two and a half weeks along in my pregnancy, and the Ratajczyk triplets are a little bigger than a grouping of three papayas.”

“Ah, still sticking to using food to determine the sizes of the triplets?” she chuckled, still scrutinizing my stomach. “Now, what on earth have you been up to?”

“Isabelle found something online about how to tape up a pregnant belly with tape to alleviate discomfort,” I explained with a twinkle of laughter in my blue eyes. “Well, we didn’t have KT-tape, so we had to improvise a little bit and use duct tape.”

Dr. Isles began to crack up, needing to take a seat  to collect herself.

“That is a classic,” she wheezed, wiping at her teary eyes. “But the duct tape makes it easier for you to move about?”

“Oh, yes indeed!” I grinned wolfishly as she opened the bottle of ice cold gel and apologized for the cold. “But I’m still uncomfortable, though it’s not as bad!”

“So, I see that little girl is here!” she continued chatting as she turned the ultrasound machine on and got the wand ready for action. “Hello, little girl!”

“Hihi,” she meeped, suddenly shy as she went and hit underneath her godfather’s chair.

Peter chuckled as Baby Tommy wandered up to the doctor and promptly took a seat on her foot, wrapping his tiny little man arms around her leg as he made himself comfortable.

“And hello there now, Baby Tommy!” she laughed before planting the wand onto my tummy and filling the screen with three grey masses that were very unmistakably Baby Mattie, Baby Teddy and Baby Jojo. “My, my, my- hello sweet babies!”

The baby boy on the right reached out, pressing his hand up against my tummy, clearly curious about this person who they’ve seen maybe a half a dozen times before. Baby Jojo was still cradled protectively between her brothers, and was kicking me savagely. Baby Mattie had his arms wrapped around himself as he was laying there, warm and safe in my motherly womb.

“So, have you and Peter had any time to think more about your birthing plan?” she asked me next.

I took a deep breath.

“I don’t want to be awake, I’d rather be asleep,” I tittered. “My anxiety would probably be at a dangerous level if I was awake during the procedure.”

“Understandable,” she said, pausing to make a notation on my file chart. “Will you be stopping by Saint Mary’s at some point today?”

“That’s on the agenda!” I answered, cooing as Elizabeth and Katie lifted up Baby Tommy and little girl respectively, the two babies happily babbling as they pressed their itty bitty baby hands to my popped out tummy.

KICK KICK KICK KICK

“Be nice, babies!” little girl scolded them. “Be good to Mama Wen Wen! Mama Wen Wen is the bestest mommy in the whole wide world!”

My heart swooned at her sweet words, her touch making the triplets calm down some.

“Babies, babies, babies, babies…” sang Baby Tommy, his nose scrunching up for a brief moment before-

POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT

“EW!” screeched little girl before bursting into tears at her younger brother’s stinky man butt.

Katie handed Peter little girl before removing her jacket and beginning to fan the room out some, Isabelle reaching around to open the window, the entire family quickly whipping into their dutiful roles at expelling Baby Tommy’s stinky man fart.

“Wow.” Dr. Isles’ face was comically confused as she just stood there, likely wondering what had just happened.

“Sowwy,” he meeped out timidly, cramming his fingers into his mouth to chew on. “Mesies butt feelies gooder now.”

“I would imagine so, you silly little man!” I grumbled crossly as Peter came over to press a whiskery kiss to my temple. “Baby Tommy, your stinky man butt is really starting to concern me. I’ll need to call the babies’ pediatrician and try to see what we can do.”

Dr. Isles crept closer and poked at Baby Tommy experimentally with a pen, clearly trying to judge whether or not he was still a menace and a danger to society.

HIC

Everyone’s attention was quickly diverted to Baby Eve, who was beginning to develop a nasty case of the hiccups.

HIC HIC HIC HIC

“Just another day with the Ratajczyk family!” I giggled as Katie and little girl both began to clean off my tummy. “Just another day with the Ratajczyk family!”

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a