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thenovelartist · 4 years ago

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Burned Beginnings, chapter 1

Novel decided to do Adrienette April on a whim. Each post until the end of April (or such is the plan) will have 3 prompts in it.

She also discovered she’s very rusty. Bear with me here. XD

Next>>

1. AU

Marinette had thought she’d grown used to Chloe’s bullying, having to had endure it since they were little. However, with high school came a new name that became a regular part of Chloe’s vocabulary, alongside “hot” and “sexy” and “dreamboat”.

“And Marinette would never catch the eye of someone so perfect.”

Honestly, Marinette had thought she was over it, but on a particularly bad day, she’d snapped back at Chloe.

“Well, clearly he isn’t that perfect if he fawns over someone whose only redeeming quality is pretending to be pretty.”

That had led to a fire alarm getting pulled and Marinette left to blame for it. Anyone who tried to come to her defense was shut down, and Marinette had been suspended.

Which had started an all-out war.

After being stuck at home, wrongfully, for three solid days, Marinette had snapped. She’d decided that if Chloe was going to build a bonfire and poor on the gasoline that she would be there with a match. By senior year, Marinette’s record had taken a hit for it but Chloe’s reputation was in the toilet.

Marinette would take what she could get.

However, she supposed she hadn’t fully thought out the consequences. As much as she played with fire, she should have realized she’d get burned sooner or later.

And she did. Third degree.

We regret to inform you your application has been denied.

Those were words she grew tired of seeing yet came back from every school she applied to. With that in mind, she’d called up her girl friends to tell them what had happened.

“Hey, Marinette,” Alya had said upon seeing the letters. “Don’t get me wrong, I feel really bad for you. But… I did warn you—”

“I get it,” Marinette had surrendered, knowing that Alya was completely right. “You tried to warm me of the consequences, and now I’m paying for them.”

The girls had slipped into a moment of silence before Alix spoke up. “Hey, I can ask Max if he can do a little digging so you at least know why, yeah?”

Marinette had raised a brow but agreed. “Only if he’s not busy with his own college stuff.”

“Oh please, he’s too smart for college. He started up some robotics company in his free time and is already making bank on it.”

It took a week for Max to come back with a full report. Marinette had to give him props for working fast as he did.

“Hacking into the system was the first thing I could think of,” he’d explained. “In the side notes, there was mention of your attendance record and suspensions.”

“They were all wrongful suspensions,” Alix had countered.

“Doesn’t matter to the school,” Max had said with a shrug. “But even then, I thought there had to be more to this than just attendance. There were other students who had the same notes yet were accepted. So I shifted focus to digging up background on all the directors of the school. After hacking a few emails, I discovered Audrey Bourgeois happens to know a lot of directors or administration members in all the fashion schools of France. Considering the contents of most of those emails, it has become clear that Marinette was wrongfully barred from every school she’d applied to. And that there’s nothing that can be done about it because we only discovered such scandal through highly illegal means.”

“So…” Alya had begun, turning her attention to Marinette. “Where does that leave you, M?”

Marinette’s lips had pursed in thought. It was funny how things turned out, because despite her anger, she somehow had been peace with what she was faced with. “I think that the last place I want to be is in an industry full of liars and people who use their words to manipulate anyone they damn well please.”

That was how she ended up working full-time in her parents’ bakery. They never said a word about it, but she knew they were disappointed. Of course they weren’t mad about her still being here and working in the bakery with them, and she knew her parents still loved her more than anything.

But she knew that with as many dreams as she had and had shared with them, they were disappointed on her surrendering it all.

“Sorry, Maman, Papa,” she whispered into the empty kitchen as she plopped the baguettes she formed onto a baking tray. “Just give me a little time to figure things out. Seems like lofty dreams are a lot easier to crush than I realized.”

2. Rebellion

A son can only bear the world of their parent’s expectations for so long. He wasn’t Atlas, but after a few years of acting like him, Adrien decided to dump the globe. To hell if it broke. He’d smirk in satisfaction at his father’s disappointment.

At the very least, the fact he no longer had the weight of the world of his shoulders made the far-too-common disappointment lecture easier to bear.

His strategic rebellion had started harmless enough. At sixteen with a rapidly growing forced modeling career, he’d given his father an ultimatum: he gets to grow out his hair, or it all goes. It had been shocking the amount of power the razor in his hand had given him. It was the perfect harmless threat. His father had been furious, throwing a fit about Adrien acting like a child, but after being gaslit for so long, Adrien had finally come to realize the abusive techniques for what they were. And he wasn’t going to roll over and take it any longer.

That day had ended with Adrien being grounded but ultimately the victor of their stand-off.

After that, he’d begun ditching certain events. He’d always liked fencing, so he never ditched those lessons, but attendance for his home-school lessons, mandarin lessons, and piano lessons had all been decided on a whim. His father had hardly been pleased by this, but to Adrien, that was the point. The lectures soon washed into one another so much that Adrien could practically recite the words that roll off his father’s tongue verbatim. He’d come to realize they were strategically meant to hurt. To humiliate. And as such, he’d stopped taking them personally.

Then came the fun part.

He got earrings. Honestly, Adrien hadn’t really cared for the piercings one way or another. In one way, there were a hassle, and caring for new piercings was a pain in the butt. However, they had been worth it to see his dad so royally pissed off.

Then came the ditching of certain photoshoots. There was a reason Adrien had held off on this one for so long: he cared about the people running the shoot. There was no reason they needed to be collateral in this battle between him and his father. After all, they were just employees doing their job; Adrien didn’t want them to suffer for his rebellion. With that in mind, Adrien had planned out his absences of these photoshoots. Again, he didn’t want to drag anyone else into his mess, so he had always organized a replacement model. Shoot would always go on, just not as planned.

And that was enough to drive his father mad.

It always put a smile on Adrien’s face.

The last touch was an unexpected one. He hadn’t even thought about going this far. Yet, a friend of his not only put the idea in his head, but gave him the art to go with it.

“Is that a tattoo?”

Oh, how he wished he would have taken a picture of his father’s face. The large black cat surrounded in a green, wispy smoke that wrapped around his forearm was truly a work of art. He’d had to think carefully about this decision, but in the end, he quite liked it.

“Yeah. I’m eighteen; I can ink myself if I want to. Why? Is that a problem?”

Adrien might be wearing a cat on his arm, but the grin on his lips was downright wolfish.

Eventually, it all had come to a head and blew up in his face. Adrien couldn’t say he’d been surprised. In fact, he had been fully expecting it. He’d already found an apartment to rent and had begun sneaking most of his important things over there before his father could kick him out. So when Adrien found himself kicked to the curb as soon as he was handed his general education certificate, Adrien had been prepared.

But mostly, he was free.

What a joyous day it was.

However, now that he was free, he knew he needed a job. Not because he needed the money, per se, but because it was time he started acting like the average adult. He never got to go to school, so now, it was time to pick up a mundane, first job that everyone hated but would “serve him well later in life”. Mostly, it would just be something normal.

The easy places to apply were food shops and retail stores. He’d work one for a while before deciding what his next life step would be. Chloe had been quick to offer him a job at her father’s hotel, but Adrien was vehemently against the idea. Over the span of his rebellion, Chloe’s behavior and attitude towards him had grown notably worse, and he had a feeling cutting ties with her would be his next step in life.

In the end, he’d scored a job he definitely was underqualified for. He’d applied partly out of spite and partly because ‘why not?’ He’d heard about this bakery enough times from Chloe to know the “cruel bitch who did nothing but mercilessly harass her” lived here, and that was enough to pique Adrien’s curiosity. At a bakery as popular as that, though, he hadn’t been sure he’d get a call. And when he did, he knew he would do everything he could to present himself as a reliable and respectable man eager to work, but he never thought he’d end up hitting it off with the owner.

Which somehow ended up with him agreeing to work at Tom and Sabine’s Patisserie.

Going into that job, he swore to himself he would do what he could to prove himself worthy. He knew there had to have been better applicants, so Adrien didn’t want to disappoint the very kind owners who dared give him a chance. Soon, his days were spent working hard while covered in flour and surrounded by bread all day. Well, bread and all the sharp and hot objects in your average kitchen.

He just didn’t think that would include a wicked sharp and smoking hot young lady that happened to be his bosses’ daughter.

3. Game Night

“Mama, Papa, please go. You two hardly ever get out of the house.”

Marinette watched her maman put a hand over the mouthpiece of her phone while her papa turned to her. “But I’ll be busy that night. We have a massive order scheduled for the next day.”

“I can handle that,” Marinette quickly countered with a grin. “You know I’m a night owl, anyway. I’ll get it done, and you two can go enjoy game night with your friends.”

Her parents spared each other a glance. “Are you sure about that, Marinette?” Maman asked.

“Positive. Papa already talks to the bread too much, so he really should talk to people for a change. And while you have to deal with people all day, I know you want more than to just have short conversations filled with small talk. So please, go out and have a social life for once.”

With one last look, her parents relented. With a smile, her mother took her hand off the phone. “We’ll be there.”

Papa turned to her with a grin. “I was going to spend that time teaching Adrien how to handle those orders. I can leave teaching him in your hands, right?”

Her grin fell. Adrien Agreste. What the hell a washed-out model was doing working at her parents’ bakery was beyond her. Admittedly, over the last month she’d been working with him, the most she’d say is that maybe he wasn’t too bad a guy. Papa certainly sung his praises. But that still didn’t answer the question of why he was working here of all places. After all, he was Chloe’s friend and suspected lover.

“Don’t think I don’t see that look on your face, Marinette,” her maman chastised. She’d hung up and set her phone down already, fully giving her attention to her daughter. “No matter your personal feelings, you really should give him a chance.”

“He’s a good kid,” Papa said. “Maybe a little rough around the edges, but I can tell he really does want to learn and do his best.”

Marinette sighed. This wasn’t the first time this talk had happened. She remembered having a talk with her parents after his first interview. There were a few other people who were far more qualified for the job, but Papa said he liked Adrien’s personality and spirit the best. So in the end, all Marinette’s objections had fallen upon deaf ears.

She sighed. “Fine. I’ll give him a chance.”

With a smile that made Marinette loath to disappoint him, her papa patted her head affectionately. “Thank you, Marinette. I think you’d like him if you got to know him.”

Not likely. “I’ll do my best, Papa.”

“Really, Marinette,” her maman warned. “Unless you have a valid reason, you need to put aside your feelings for the sake of the bakery running smoothly. Can you manage that?”

Appropriately chastised, Marinette bowed her head in embarrassment. Maman brought up a good point: Marinette shouldn’t let her anger towards Adrien affect the bakery. Her parents didn’t deserve that. “Yes, Maman. I’m sorry.”

With a smile, her maman came up and wrapped her in a hug. “Thank you, Marinette.”

Marinette hugged her back. “No, thank you, Maman and Papa, for everything. I won’t let you down.”

Papa wrapped his arms around both her and Maman. “Thank you, sweetheart. We love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #adrienette #AdrinetteApril2021 #AU #Marinette's kinda bitter #And Adrien's a rebel #If they're OOC I don't care #I'm writing again and just rolling with it

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years ago

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Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 17

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

“We should get champagne or something, to celebrate,” Scully says, her eyes roving over the menu.

After three weeks of rehab, Teena Mulder has finally been able to move home, though she’s under the constant care of an in-home nurse. Knowing that she’s back in her own space, no longer the medical setting that made her miserable, is a huge weight off Mulder’s shoulders. This is why they’re out to dinner, celebrating a hopeful return to what feels like normal.

“Only if you’re driving home,” Mulder replies playfully, “you know what bubbly does to me.”

She gives him a flirtatious smirk. “Yes, I do.”

“Dana?” someone calls out, and they look over to see two women. One is tall and slim with light olive-toned skin and brunette shoulder-length hair. The other is significantly shorter, Latina, with thick hips and an ample bustline, her dark hair cascading down her back.

“Monica, hi,” Scully replies warmly to the tall woman. She turns to the shorter one, “you must be Dahlia.”

“Guilty as charged,” the short woman answers jovially with a heavy Spanish accent.

“This is my boyfriend, Fox Mulder,” Scully continues, gesturing to him, “Mulder, this is Monica, I’ve told you about her.”

Mulder nods in understanding. Scully has often mentioned a woman she regularly has coffee and lunch with who works in VICAP.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Mulder says, offering his hand to Monica.

She takes his hand with a firm grip, then gestures to the short woman, “this is my partner, Dahlia.”

Mulder and Scully both greet Dahlia with handshakes.

“Well, we’ll leave you to your meal, it was nice to run into you,” Monica says.

“Would you like to join us? We haven’t even ordered yet,” Scully offers, giving Mulder a quick glance to confirm that this is okay. He nods almost imperceptibly.

“Oh, we don’t want to impose,” Monica answers.

“Not at all,” Mulder jumps in, correctly picking up that Monica is worried about imposing on him, not Scully, “I’d love to finally get to know this mysterious VICAP woman Scully is always talking about.”

Monica smiles and he moves to the chair beside Scully so she and Dahlia can occupy the other two. They order champagne and appetizers, and he finds the two women to be very pleasant company.

“So, you work in VICAP too, then?” he asks Dahlia, and she gives him a confused look.

“No, I work at a little flower shop in Alexandria,” she answers.

“Oh, sorry, I thought Monica said you were partners.”

Scully shoots him an embarrassed glare, but Dahlia laughs.

“You know, I always tell Monica she should just call me her girlfriend, but she insists on ‘partner,’” she says, looking at Monica affectionately. He can’t help but smile, realizing he’d missed the very obvious fact that they are lovers.

“Girlfriend sounds so juvenile to me,” Monica explains, “partner feels a bit more serious, and permanent.”

“It’s okay, mija,” Dahlia continues, “you can call me your partner, hasta el día en que puedas ser mi esposa.”

Monica beams at her, and while he didn’t understand a word of that, it’s plainly clear that they are very much in love.

Appetizers come and go, flutes of champagne are emptied and refilled and a second bottle is ordered. Scully brings up Monica’s education and her experiences working at the New Orleans field office, and she and Mulder carry on a conversation about the change in VooDoo practices over the course of generations while Scully and Dahlia discover that they have similar taste in literature. Dahlia is telling a story about reading a Spanish translation of Jane Eyre as a teenager and how she still, to this day, has a hard time not calling him “Señor Rochester,” when the waiter brings by the check and Mulder snatches it away just as Dahlia was reaching for it.

“My treat,” Mulder says, pulling out his wallet.

Dahlia gives Monica a look, saying “me gusta este chico,” and Mulder chuckles.

“That I understood,” he quips, and they all laugh.

Back at the apartment, they get ready for bed. Scully is standing at the sink brushing her teeth when Mulder slinks up behind her, slipping his hands onto her hips and dipping his head down to kiss her neck.

“Mmm, there’s that champagne,” she says, the words garbled around her toothbrush.

“It’s not that champagne makes me want you, Scully. I always want you. It just makes me a little more bold,” he explains, trailing his fingers down to the hem of her night shirt and lifting it enough to get a look at her panties.

She swats his hand away. “Let me finish brushing my teeth,” she chastises, and he retreats to the bedroom.

She joins him a few minutes later, slipping under the sheets and draping her bare leg over his. He lifts his arm so she can burrow against his torso, her head on his chest. He rubs his hand across her back, eliciting a contented sigh.

“So, what did you think of Monica?” she asks, her fingertips on his ribcage moving in small circles.

“I really like her, I can see why you two hit it off,” he answers.

“She reminds me a little of you, actually,” she says, and he can feel her smile against his skin. “She has some...out there ideas.”

“Am I not talking enough about cryptids at home, Scully? You had to go find a friend to supplement?” he asks playfully, dipping his fingers into her armpit briefly in a threat to tickle her.

She clamps her arms against her sides and giggles. “We don’t talk much about that, but when I first met her she told me about my aura, so I figured you two would have some things in common.”

“That sounds more like Missy’s purview,” he comments, and then they fall silent for a moment.

“I’m actually really glad we ran into her,” Scully begins, running her hand down his abdomen to rest just beneath his belly button. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about and I wasn’t sure how to bring it up without you having some context.”

“Scully, if you’re about to suggest we have a foursome with Monica and Dahlia, I’m going to owe Frohike five hundred bucks,” he interjects.

She scoffs, “in your dreams, Mulder.”

“I think you mean Melvin.”

“Well, sorry Melvin, but that’s not what I was thinking about.” Her thumb hooks just beneath the elastic of his boxers, his happy trail tickling her skin.

“Okay, sorry, what were you thinking about?”

“What if,” she begins, dragging her finger back and forth under the fabric, “Monica was your partner. On the X files.”

He puts his hand over hers to still the movement, pulling away a bit so she’ll look at him.

“What do you mean, Scully?” He feels a rush of adrenaline, though he’s not yet sure if it’s from excitement or fear.

“I mean, she’s open to...unexplainable phenomena. The two of you get along quite well, and she wouldn't try to debunk your work or scoff at your theories. You said they might let you reopen them if you had a partner you could work with, and I think Monica might be that person.”

He considers this for a moment. “Who’s to say she’d even want to, she’s assigned to VICAP-”

“She hates VICAP,” Scully interjects, “it’s a bunch of macho men trying to one-up each other. I know she’d be happy to be reassigned, and to work out of the Hoover building. She and Dahlia live in Palisades; her commute sucks.”

His mind is reeling, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. “I don’t even know where we’d start, Scully. It seems so unlikely.”

“Just ask for a meeting with AD Skinner. If you think it would help for Monica to be a part of that meeting, I know she’d be happy to attend. I’ve told her a bit about The X files and I wouldn’t even bring this up with you unless I was sure she’d be interested. I can talk to her about it on Monday, if you want to give it a shot.”

He looks up at the ceiling, eyebrows stitched in thought. Hope pricks at the corners of his mind, but he knows well enough not to let it take root; he’s been disappointed too many times before. He looks over at Scully, her expression holding all the hope that he won’t allow himself to feel.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks gently.

“Because I want you to be happy,” she says earnestly, pulling her hand from beneath his and bringing it to his cheek, “from the moment I met you, I saw how you light up when you talk about The X Files. If there’s a chance you can investigate them again, I want to pursue it.”

He sighs, a tender smile tugging at his lips. He turns on his side, pushing his palms under her ass and pulling her on top of him as she giggles.

“Okay, talk to Monica,” he says, sliding his hands under her sleep shirt and up her bare back, “I’ll email Skinner on Monday.”

She smiles at him, self-satisfied and victorious.

“Now, about that champagne,” he says, pulling her down for a kiss.

———

She nervously checks her email every two minutes, aggressively clicking the send/receive button. Monica and Mulder were meeting with AD Skinner at 11:00am and it’s now almost 1:00pm and she hasn’t heard anything. That could either be a very good sign, or a very bad one. She has class in ten minutes and needs to head over to the lecture hall to prepare. She refreshes it one more time, and an email pops up.

From: [email protected]

Sent: September 18, 1997 12:51pm

To: [email protected]

Subject: Maybe good news?

He didn’t say no, but he didn’t say yes, either. He asked us about 800 questions and then said he had to run it by the section chief. My impression is that he wants to make it work, but obviously it’s not totally within his control.

Fingers crossed. Hopefully we’ll know by Friday.

She heaves a big sigh, a cautious smile playing on her lips. She shoots him a quick response and then makes her way to class, praying all the way that the answer will be yes.

———

She’d taken that Friday off, for no reason in particular. Ever since Mulder had effectively moved in with her, she liked to take random weekdays off here and there just to have some time to herself. She’d spent the afternoon reading, re-arranging her spice cupboard, and making space for Mulder to have half her dresser instead of just one drawer. She’s sitting on the floor of the bedroom, surrounded by neatly folded stacks of T-shirts and pajama pants, when she hears the front door open. She checks her watch; it’s only 3:00 pm, too early for Mulder to be home.

“Hello?” she calls out nervously.

The bedroom door swings open and Mulder is there, his chest heaving and a dopey smile on his face.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, “what are you doing home?”

“It was approved,” he says breathlessly, apparently having run from wherever he parked the car.

“What was approved?” she asks, standing.

“The X Files, Scully. They’re reopened, effective Monday, with me and Reyes as the assigned agents,” he says, his smile broadening even further.

Her mouth drops open in disbelief, a surprised smile forming on her lips. She had held out hope, but she was also very aware that the chances were slim. He crosses the room, scooping her up in his arms, her legs wrapping around his hips.

“It never would have happened if it wasn’t for you,” he says, adoration in his eyes.

She kisses him, and he turns to lay her on the bed, shedding his suit jacket and tossing it on the floor. Moving quickly, desperately, he tugs at the waistband of her pants, stripping them off along with her panties, and pushes her shirt up to expose her breasts. He begins kissing her neck, down to her chest and belly, pausing intermittently to speak words of affirmation and gratitude until he reaches the apex of her thighs and is quiet.

He laps at her tenderly, humming and sighing as her body catches up and she feels the flush of desire form in her belly. She pushes her fingers into his hair, scraping gently at his scalp in encouragement as he flicks his tongue against her opening and she bucks her hips in response. His thumb swipes gently over her clit as he pushes his tongue inside her, licking at her increasingly slick walls and making her whimper. After a few minutes, he switches to his fingers inside her and his tongue at her clit. Swirling and sucking until she commands him not to stop, he holds steady as she falls apart against his lips, flexing his fingers deep inside to draw it out. Finally she taps on his head, and he crawls back up to plant soft kisses along her jaw.

“Consider us even,” she breathes out, eyes still closed in bliss.

“I think I might like to continue making it up to you,” he says with a nip to her earlobe, and she laughs.

“Okay, if you insist.”

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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change-the-world-someday · 4 years ago

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Late Night Essays

@formlessglob asks:

hey, can you do where the reader (any male bau's younger sibling) keep procrastinating on their assignments and staying up till late at night when the due is getting closer. They're not getting enough sleep and their brother is concern. It's an oddly specific request and I understand if you don't want to write this :D love your works so much

A/N: Thank you for your kindness, and I’m glad you like my fics. I love this request.

Hotch x GN!Reader (Platonic)

Summary: You’re a habitual procrastinator, but one night, you take it a little too far, and your older brother is very concerned for your health...

Masterlist

—•—

Hotch sighs. It's been a long case and he just wants to get home to you and Jack.

You’re his younger sibling, who in an attempt to escape the toxic household your father created, opted to live with your older brother. You also attend Georgetown, taking in Hotch's footsteps and studying law at seventeen (thanks to the help of Reid). Hotch is glad he offered to have you and keep legal guardianship of you until you’re eighteen; it meant you could have a better home life, and Hotch didn't have to worry so much about getting a babysitter for Jack.

As the team arrive back at the bullpen, Hotch makes his way to his office. Paperwork's the last thing he wants to do at half one in the morning, but someone has to get it done. When he takes a seat and lets out a long sigh, there's a knock on the door.

"Come in," he calls as he looks up. Morgan shuffles in.

"I'll get the paperwork done, Hotch. Go spend some time with your kids," Derek says. Hotch raises an eyebrow. "What's Y/N studying at Georgetown?"

"Law," Hotch replies, a faint smile ghosting his features.

"Just like their older brother," Derek smiles. He takes a step forward. "Hotch, go. Your kids need you."

Derek knows that Hotch sees you more as his kid rather than a sibling due to the large age gap.

Hotch gives a nod and stands, taking his coat from the back of the chair and grabbing his bag. As he walks through the bullpen to the elevator, silence falls. This is the first time anyone's seen Hotch leave early. He gives a small wave and the doors close.

"Was that Hotch...leaving early?" Emily asks. Morgan nods. "What did you say to him?"

"I just mentioned Y/N," he replies. "Now we need to get some paperwork done."

—•—

Aaron fumbles with his keys for a little while before opening the door to his apartment. The main lights are off, but a small table lamp is still on. Aaron smiles; you alway leaves him a light on for when he gets back. He walks around, double-checking the locks before heading to the bedrooms. He looks at Jack's door, which is slightly open and pokes his head in.

His son's fast asleep. Aaron smiles and quietly walks over, before taking a seat at the foot of Jack's bed. He watches him for a moment and leans over, pressing a small kiss to his forehead. He leaves, closing the door behind him and looking over to the other door.

Your room.

Something's slightly off, though. There's a light coming from underneath the door...at two in the morning.

Aaron sighs and gently knocks on the door. Maybe you just forgot to turn a light off. After hearing no answer, he carefully opens it and walks in. You’re sat their, H/C hair a mess and glasses perched on the end of your nose. You’re typing away on your laptop, books open over your desk, earphones in.

"Y/N?" Aaron asks gently. "Y/N?"

He walks over and taps you on the shoulder. You jump in your seat, before pulling your earphones out and looking up. You smile when you sees him.

"Oh, hey, A," you greet, calling Aaron fondly by his nickname, "didn't think you'd be back by tomorrow."

Aaron hums. "And you told me you finished this mens rea essay two days ago," he replies. "Why did you lie?"

You sigh. "I...I don't know," you admit. "It's just like I can't get things done until-"

"-they're close to the deadline?" Aaron finishes. You nod. "It's a classic procrastination technique."

"Don't tell me you didn't do this when you were in law school," you scoff jokingly. Aaron smiles and shakes his head. "Exactly."

"So, when's this due?" He asks. You let out a yawn.

"Erm, tomorrow," you reply. Aaron raises an eyebrow.

"And how much do you have left to do?"

You stretch. "Three pages."

Aaron sighs. You’re going to run yourself into the ground if you carry on like this. "You're going to burn yourself out if you carry on like this," he scolds lightly. You sigh.

"I know, but it's not like I do it for every essay."

You goe to stand, leaning on your desk to support yourself.

"You alright? You look pale," Aaron points out. You nod.

That's when it hits. All at once.

Dizziness plagues your mind, almost knocking the air out of your lungs. The room spins, and everything feels far away.

"Y/N?" Aaron asks. "Y/N?"

You fall forward, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Aaron's eyes widen as he strides over, catching you before you hit the floor. He sighs, sitting and lying you down, your head in his lap.

"Y/N? Can you hear me?" He asks. You don't respond. He leans down—you’re still breathing. Thank god. He pulls out his phone.

"Dave? Yeah, I know it's early. I'm going to be in later than normal. Yeah, Y/N’s going to be with me too. Okay, thanks."

Aaron lifts you, carrying you to your bed and lying you down. He doesn't want to leave you alone, though, just in case something happens. Instead, Aaron walks down to his bedroom, grabbing his duvet and pillows, and drags them back to your bedroom. He sets up on the floor, lying down and listening to the sound of your breathing.

—•—

"A? Shit!"

Aaron hears the commotion from your room and sighs.

Five minutes later, you come running out of your bedroom, pulling a shoe on, your backpack messily stuffed with your laptop and notebook. "Aaron, can you give me a lift to the station on your way to Quantico, please? I'm late."

Aaron raises an eyebrow and continues to make breakfast.

"Y/N, sit down and get something to eat. You need it after you fainted on me last night," he scolds.

"Aaron, I'm late for class," you try to bargain. Your older brother sighs.

"You would be if I didn't already email from your account. You're coming with me today. We can make sure you're eating properly, and you can focus and get your essay done," Aaron explains. You let out a huff and sit at the table as Aaron plates up some bacon and eggs. He sits down opposite, and you already know from that look what's coming.

A lecture.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He starts. "I went there, I could've helped. Hell, I could've taken you to the BAU with me on the weekends and the others could've helped. Reid's got an eidetic memory, for crying out loud."

You sit there, unsure of what to say. Before you can think of something, however, Aaron continues. "Dave would've made you so much food and forced you to take breaks. I thought I'd have to take you to the hospital!"

"I'm sorry," you mumble as you finish your plate. "I...I should've said something."

Aaron sighs and takes the two now clean plates, putting them in the sink. "Now c'mon, you've got an essay to write and I've got paperwork to fill out."

The two of you get up and walk out the apartment, down to the car, and off to Quantico.

—•—

TAGLIST:

@ogmilkis @spideygirl2003@ssebstann@herecomesthewriterwitch @garcias-batcave

#behavioural analysis unit #behavioral analysis unit #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #platonic Aaron Hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotchner x gender neutral reader #gender netural reader #gender neutral!reader #male reader #male!reader #female reader #Aaron Hotchner x male!reader

244 notes · View notes

mistymark · 5 years ago

Text

nct dream as college kids

RENJUN

works on campus til late

always asleep

likes to study in the library because its the only place he can get some bloody peace

texts jaemin to bring him food

went to the on-campus gym once and never went back

complains about parking on campus

complains about his friends on campus

but he loves them and always organises activities and catch ups

the glue that keeps everyone in touch despite their different degrees and campuses

laughs too loud and always gets stared at for doing it in class

once got kicked out of the library for his loudness

to be fair, he did accidentally fall out of his chair... and pull the table down with him

his id actually looks good

does half the pre-reading then just listens to lectures to understand the rest

o ve. r whe l me d

still maintains a brilliant GPA

his project group members always love him

JENO

wears hoodies and sweats to every class

still looks really good though

and distracts everyone in his classes

lives off free food at parties and tight-ass tuesdays specials

is in advanced classes bc he had the grades for them but doesnt understand shit

still manages to look bored in class even when hes confused and/or focused

sits in the back and then squints at the board bc mans cant see

carries like three things with him to every class

owns one (1) pen

he doesnt even write anything with it he just chews on it during class

everyone thinks its hot but the guy sitting beside him (jaemin) looks disgusted the entire time

has received many anonymous love letters on facebook but hasn't read any of them

not to be mean - he just doesnt find it interesting

drafted a love letter to someone in one of his lectures and then deleted it

hasn't looked at the page since

actually does the pre-reading

then gets bored in lectures when they just go over what he read about

JAEMIN

smiles 24/7 even when hes stressed

supportive af tho

always sporting the Cozy aesthetic

wears sweaters and vests in temperatures you'd think wouldnt be suitable but the boy doesnt appear to sweat???

wears rly cute glasses sometimes and !!!!!!!!

waves at people he knows

does not hesitate to run up to people and start conversations with them out of nowhere

attends Donghyuck’s parties to SpEnD TimE WiTh HiS fRieNdS

has never lost a game of beer pong

girls say he gets 10x hotter when hes drunk because hes way more flirtatious and fun

but he probably just flirts w Jeno the whole time

walks into lectures with sunglasses on and everyone knows what happened the night before

never leaves the house without food

his backpack is 30% necessities like laptop, books, phone, keys etc.

and 70% granola bars and fruit

doesnt want to spend money on food on campus

drinks way too much boba tho

is in Disney society and probably becomes co-president after a year

DONGHYUCK

throws parties for every no reason

wears the same outfit every day bc he knows he looks good

youngest kid in his frat

talks a lot of shit about how hes a player and can get any girl he wants but the second a girl looks at him hes a blubbering mess

in fact, hes probably got a huge crush on someone in his lecture that hes never talked to

attends online lectures so he can play video games at the same time

has to be told to turn his mic off during group discussions because hes eating really loudly

isn't afraid to talk in class

sometimes rocks up wearing something outside of his normal dress code because hes still discovering his style

but everything he tries suits him

basically started the bucket hat trend - he claims so anyway

won't let anybody touch his student id

no one has seen the photo but many speculations have been made over how bad it is

the only person who has seen it is one of the librarians

Chenle and Jisung made it their mission to see it but to this day they havent been able to get it

its a series on Chenle’s tiktok bET

CHENLE

became famous on tiktok over the summer so now everyone knows who he is ??

does wild shit bro

does vlogs with his friends

‘I joined the kpop dance club at my college and it went like this”

lots of videos of him and his friends going batshit crazy at night

wears expensive yet extremely tasteful clothing

catch him walking around campus in pressed shirts

never looks tired ??????? how does he cope ??????

tags jisung in love letters that are definitely not for him

tags jisung in love letters that are definitely for him

probably wants to start a youtube channel when he graduates

girls want to date him but more often guys want to be him

is super nice but

glares at anyone who says he doesnt need a degree to take over daddy’s business

did a kiss or slap challenge once and everyone kissed him and its very pure

maintains solid grades

everyone knows who he is whether they know him from tiktok or not

probably on really good terms with his professors

loves to send emails ?

JISUNG

that one kid in high school that became super hot over the summer

people from his school dont even recognise him

makes the older kids feel gross when they realise hes younger than they are and they've been thirsting over him for ages

people who wouldnt even glance in his direction in high school now want to be his friend

mostly keeps to himself and his studies

joins a few clubs and societies

got roped into Disney society by jaemin

had to attend the ball and wanted to die when he got crowned as the official prince

I dont think he did Disney society the year after

though he did think the dancing at the ball was fun and joined a dance troupe

gives his number to people in his project group then forgets to respond when they text him

does his work tho so who can complain

dies of embarrassment whenever he sees chenle has tagged him in love letters on facebook

at some point chenle has downloaded tinder onto his phone and tried to match him with people

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lovestrucked-again · 5 years ago

Text

Sanguine I Mafia

Genre: Mafia AU Warnings: dark themes Word Count: 3k ANON Ask: Hi I really LOVE your writing and I’d like to request the reader in the nct mafia series gets in some trouble with another company. Serious trouble. But on accident. So the boys have to really work something out to get her back – I’ve taken the idea and done a little series, hope you like it <3 Summary: You were a second year med student taken in by the house of NCT. It’s not uncommon to be the last to learn things within the house but when your safety is threatened, your forced to leave home with no option. But it only makes things worse.

****

Waking up to a loud racket in the morning was nothing new or surprising for you. After moving in, the rarity of having a silent morning was priceless and you could only dream of those days. However, for this Thursday morning, waking up so late in the morning was a disaster, finding out you’re running late to your morning lecture wasn’t what you were expecting. As a second year med student, suggested by yours truly, Qian Kun, you were crushed by the weight of content, leading to late study nights and hectic schedules.

When you were first bought in, you were still a first year student, confused in what course direction to take, what your interests were, and your own capability. As you got comfortable within the house while your first year ended, Kun suggested going into medical school, noticing your attention to detail and caring nature. Lucky for you, your studies were never an issue and getting in proved no difficulty.

Your bedside clock given as a gift from Doyoung (because your always late), showed 8:02am, 28 minutes before it starts. Quickly jumping out of bed you ran to your bathroom, brushing through the knots that had formed in your hair overnight and taking a shower. After getting dressed and grabbing your phone and bag you ran downstairs to grab a snack before leaving. Surprisingly the house seemed strangely quiet for an early morning. A few of the boys slept in during the mornings, somehow managing to sleep though the heavy noise, but majority would be up and about by now.

You sneaked a peak into the living room while grabbing an apple from the fridge, seeing the absence of people. You grabbed your usual set of keys from the row of hooks at the entrance to the garage, noticing most of the car keys were missing but too late to think deeply into it. You ran over to your favourite car within the garage and threw your backpack onto the passenger seat beside you before starting the engine and driving as fast as you could to your class.

Arriving 5minutes after the lecture started, you sneak in through the back door hoping no one would notice you. Obviously with your luck, the class happened to be completely silent when you entered and the sound of the door creaking open caught everyone’s attention. You mumbled a small apology to the lecturer who didn’t bother to acknowledge your presence and continued with his talk. You settle into your seat and pull out your laptop and begin typing away as he talks.

Almost halfway through your lecture your phone buzzes. You ignore the initial vibration felt from the phone on your desk, too immersed in typing as your lecturer continues talking without bothering to slow down. However, as soon as the continuous texts popped through, the students around you were starting to give you looks and you had no choice but to answer to your phone. You glance at the screen noticing the texts from Jaehyun.

Jaehyun: Where are you?

Jaehyun: Y/N?

Jaehyun: Y/N? Answer me.

Y/N: In a lecture, something up?

You see the three little dots typing through the screen for a minute, then disappearing, and then reappearing.

Jaehyun: No, have fun and stay safe.

Not bothering with it too much, you placed your phone in your bag this time, and tried to catch up to what the lecturer was explaining. When the digital clock above the board showed 10am, the lecturer began piling up his paperwork, and dismissed the class.

Normally you’d find the Dream group who would be roaming around the campus around the same time as you had your lunch break. The 2000s line were first year students due to their part time commitment as students. They balanced life at home with training and missions while also completing a normal life – forced upon by Taeyong. You made your way over to the tables under the shaded trees and pulled out your phone to pass time. It was almost 10:30 when you realised there was still no one here.

You pull up the group chat you had for the bunch of you who attended college; Renjun, Haechan, Jeno, Jaemin and you.

Y/N: Did you guys all ditch today?

Haechan: We got held back at home

Y/N: You’re at home?

Haechan: Yeah

Y/N: It was so quiet this morning though, I thought no one was home.

Haechan: Big meeting today

Y/N: Guess I’m spending lunch alone

Jaemin: Go make some new friends

Jaemin: Girl-friends only

Y/N: :(

You hum to yourself, putting in your earphones and grabbing your drawing pad along with a pen. The time passes rather quickly as you sketch out the trees in your view, the figures of people passing by, the group of friends gathered on the lawn. The music abruptly stops and you look at your phone, confused at the interruption. You notice the call coming through and pull out your earphones to place the phone against your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey can you come to the car?”

“My car?” You ask, confused.

“Yeah, I’m at your car.”

“Okay, give me a few minutes.” You tell him, hanging up to gather all your belongings.

You notice the familiar car parked next to your own car and your face crinkles up confused at the unannounced visit from Lucas coming to your campus. Lucas stands leaning against the bumper of his car, staring at his phone not seeing you approach him.

“Hey what are you doing here?” You ask,

“I’m picking you up.” He simply states, putting his phone in his pocket and taking your laptop and textbooks from your grasp.

“I drove though.” You tell him.

“I know, one of the guys will get your car,” he says, motioning to the passenger side of his car for you to get in as he places your stuff in the back seat and opens the door on the driver’s side for himself.

“What’s going on?” You ask, closing the door before your fighting with your seatbelt strap to pull over your shoulder.

“We’re going on a vacation.” Lucas replies, leaning over to help you with your seatbelt. You lean back against your seat as he fumbles with it for a second and then buckles you in.

“Thanks, and I don’t know if you’ve realised but I still have lectures to attend tomorrow.” You tell him.

“Jaehyun handled them already.” He tells you.

“What do you mean?” You ask, starting to get concerned with the sudden situation. “Lucas what’s going on?” you ask again.

“Call Jaehyun, it’s better he tells you,” Lucas says, letting out a sigh as he pushes the gear stick into drive. You pull out your phone and dial his number, being sent straight into voicemail. You try again while Lucas watches, waiting for a response as well.

“He isn’t answering.”

“Try Taeyong.” He tells you. You click onto your speed dial for 1, calling Taeyong immediately. The phone rings for a few seconds and as your about to give up, he answers.

“Hello?”

“Hey princess what’s up?”

“Jaehyun didn’t pick up his phone and what’s with this sudden vacation? I still have classes to attend.”

“I’ve put your application on defer for now.”

“You did what?!” You yell into the phone. Lucas flinches from your sudden raise in voice.

“Sorry I should’ve talked about this with you.” You hear Taeyong sigh through the other end.

“Yeah, obviously. I’m not going on vacation or whatever this crap is Tae, I’m going back to class tomorrow.”

“Y/N things aren’t going very well recently and I need you to get away from everyone so your safe.”

“I don’t care about that, since when did you have a say in my education and what I do?!” You yell, “I’ll move in with a friend if I have to but I’m not leaving.”

“Sorry Y/N but I can’t let you do that, please just go with Lucas for now okay? I’m busy at the moment so I’ll call you back later.” He states, hanging up before anyone has a chance to say more.

Little did you know, the meeting that occurred earlier in the day was to discuss the current situation with enemy plans and events that have recently been going on. The members had been taking turns following you secretly to classes or trying to accompany you wherever you went without you realising it. Taeyong had been receiving threats lately regarding the entire NCT and the safety of the members. When someone sent an anonymous email to him containing images taken of you doing your daily activities outside of the house he decided it was time to separate you from the group.

Much to many of the members disliking of being separated and out of site, you were in danger to be living with them in this current situation. You leaving the city was planned last minute today and was agreed upon by majority in the meeting. Doyoung and Lucas had packed all your essentials within a few minutes before Lucas left to pick you up, leading you to where you were now. Your safety had been left in the hands of Lucas, unfortunately. Not saying that you were on bad terms with Lucas but more of his reliability seemed to be questionable.

Lucas on the other hand was even more miserable than you. The problem of babysitting you while being separated from all the action back home and being stuck inside a hotel would kill him of boredom.

The car ride was mostly silent, Lucas trying to change through the music playing and then being interrupted by phone calls coming through. He connected them to his in ear Bluetooth, trying to avoid you from hearing about the business projects he was dealing with. You rotated between sleeping and scrolling through social media for the car ride. Eventually as night falls, he pulls into a hotel within a small town. The two of you get out the car and he goes in ahead of you, tossing the keys to you while he susses it out.

The front desk lady had placed a pair of keys on the counter bench when you walked in the front door. You could see Lucas was running a hand through his hair – a habit he did when he was frustrated - when you approach him.

“What happened? Did you place a reservation?” You ask Lucas as he dials Jaehyun.

“The guys did, Jaehyun gave me the address for this place.”

“What’s the problem then?” You question, confused.

“Why did you book only one room and there’s only one bed?” Lucas complains into the phone. As soon as Lucas mentions one room you go blank. Sharing a bed wasn’t an issue for either of you, considering you’d had frequent movie nights with him which you ended up sleeping there instead of returning to your room. The problem is his sleeping habits. They want me to share a room with this loudass? How am I meant to sleep through his snoring? Your head was running through a billion problems and you were bought back into reality just as Lucas was about to hang up.

“Jaehyun what is this?” You ask, motioning for the phone from Lucas.

“Hey baby how are you?”

“Great. A little frustrated but you know, nothing new.” You tell him sarcastically.

“Yeah I know, sorry everything was too sudden for you.”

You sigh into the phone, knowing that you shouldn’t be taking your feelings out on him, “Yeah.”

“It’ll be over soon,” He says, comforting you through the phone.

“Okay,” you mumble, “Lucas and I are checking in now, be careful okay?”

“Yeah you too.” He replies, just as you end the call and hand the phone back to Lucas.

Lucas takes the keys on the counter and the two of you head back to the car to bring your belongings up. The room was simple. A large king sized bed and a TV in its direct line of sight. The bathroom connected near the entrance in a separate area and a little study desk and lamp. A little couch at the far end near the curtains covering the sight of a balcony.

“I’m going to shower first.” You tell him, searching for your pyjamas.

“Don’t be so slow, I’m tired.” He complains.

“Says the boy who spends 20minutes in there.” You shoot him a glare and he smiles at you blinking his eyes with innocence. “Also who packed my suitcase, where’s my pjs?”

“Doyoung and I did, don’t know if we packed pjs though..” he trails off. He pushes himself up from the couch and flips through his bag. He pulls out a plain white shirt and throws it across the room to you, “Wear this.”

“Is it clean?” You ask, holding it with the tips of your fingers. His hygiene routine isn’t classified as one of the best within the group and you feared he had given you a sweaty one.

“Obviously.” You give him a suspicious look and gather your night time things, heading into the bathroom. You strip down and step slowly into the tub, turning the water on high and letting it beat over your head as the steam begins to fog up the mirror. Closing your eyes, the heat of the water soaks into your skin and you lean against the cool tiles, exhausted at the day of events.

After you’ve washed shampoo and conditioner through your hair, you turn the tap off, squeezing out the water with your hands into the tub before stepping out. The towel hangs from the door hook and your easily able to grab it without getting the floor wet. You quickly dry yourself off and chuck on a bra, undies and Lucas’ white shirt. You wrap the towel around your hair as you step out and the temperature difference of the rooms immediately causes you to shiver.

“You can go now.” You tell Lucas, jumping straight under the covers of the bed. He hums in response, throwing you the TV remote while he disappears. You lean up against the bed board and flick through the channels, finally deciding to just turn it off instead when nothing seems interesting just as your phone beeps.

Johnny: Hey Princess are you still awake?

Y/N: Yeah, how is everyone?

Johnny: Everyone’s okay, there’s a training session going on at the moment so they’re all a bit busy

Y/N: Ahh okay.

Your debating whether you should ask about Taeyong, regretting yelling at him earlier and knowing he was only trying to keep you safe.

Y/N: Is Taeyong mad at me?

Johnny: He’s not mad, just a little stressed is all.

Johnny: Don’t worry about it.

Y/N: Okay

Johnny: Go to sleep now, it’s getting late, you and Lucas still have to keep driving tomorrow.

Y/N: I will, goodnight.

Johnny: Night <3.

Just as you shut your bedside light, Lucas walks out the bathroom shirtless, ruffling his hair with the towel and eyes glued to his phone.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch?” He asks, glancing over at you.

“Me?” You question.

“Well I’m too tall to fit and besides, I’ve been driving all day and I’ll be driving all day tomorrow.” He states, pulling the sheets down on the other side.

“Do you know how many bedbugs are on that couch?” You ask before answering it yourself, “too many.”

“Just don’t kick me throughout the night like last time.” He warns you, flipping over to his side.

“Wow you’re so terrifying.” You mumble, crawling more towards your side of the bed. “Don’t snore like your Santa Claus okay?” You remind him.

Lucas obviously ignored your warning as he snores throughout the night. You let out a groan as you sit up and push him over, tossing him more towards his side of the bed. He stops snoring momentarily and then it starts again after a few minutes of peaceful silence. Are you kidding me. You do your best to just ignore him and fold the pillow against your ear, making the sound as quiet as possible. Your phone rings just as you feel like you’re finally falling into sleep and you cry in frustration, rolling over to reach it and pick up, not looking at the caller ID.

“Hey baby, how have you been?” The deeper voice asks.

“Sorry, do I know you?” You mumble, still asleep in your state.

“Ouch, that hurts, how could you say that to your lover.”

You open your eyes, squinting at the light of the unknown number on your phone screen. “Sorry I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

“Do I really? I swear this was the number for Miss Y/N, the beautiful lady who happens to be living with one of the desired Mafia gangs.” You stayed silent through the phone, immediately sitting up, obviously this guy knew who you were and your relation to the boys. You glance at Lucas whose still asleep and your feet search for your slippers. Quietly you tip toe out to the hallway, leaving a gap in the door behind you. “If I’ve still got the wrong number feel free to hang up, I’ll continue chatting with the so notorious leader who happens to be knocked unconscious.”

“WAIT!” You whisper into the phone,

“Hm?”

“Wh-what do you want?” You hesitatingly ask.

“That’s what I thought.” He laughs. “Now I know you aren’t alone baby, so is anyone listening to us?”

“No.”

“Good girl.” He hums before continuing “I want you to come home.”

“What?”

“Come home, alone.” He says, “and remember to keep this a secret, or it might be bad for the present I have for you. I’ll be waiting.”

321 notes · View notes

melodious-madrigals · 4 years ago

Text

we should just kiss (like real people do)

hi @misha-winchester, i am your wondertrev secret santa! i hope you had a lovely christmas season/whatever holidays you may celebrate, and i hope you have a very happy new year.

Pairing: Diana Prince/Steve Trevor Words: 8′609 Rating: T (swearing) AO3 tags: Modern Setting/No Powers, co-workers, Fake Dating, ‘and there was only one bed’, Hallmark-movie-esque midsunderstandings, Happy Ending Summary: Etta just invited Steve’s significant other along on their group holiday vacation. The only problem? He made said significant other up to get out of a series of set-ups six months ago, and forgot to set the record straight. Enter Diana, his newest co-worker and real-life crush, who doesn’t have any holiday plans and is somehow offering to help him out.

i have been derelict for too long, but no more! i’m so sorry that it took me so long, and i hope you enjoy this trope-packed fic, because i couldn’t decide on just one, and then it sort of ballooned!

Read it on [AO3] or below the cut.

***

“Shit.” Steve’s head thunks against his desk.

“Problem?”

He looks up to find Diana Prince, the newest legal consultant at their NGO standing in his office door. She’s intimidating and smart and beautiful and possibly also the kindest person he’s ever met, and even though they’re friendly, she’s the last person to whom he wants to admit what’s wrong. But she’s also looking at him with such genuine concern that he spills his guts anyways.

“The last time my friend Etta tried to set me up with someone, I told her I was already dating someone, and now she wants me to bring them on our annual holiday trip to one of our friend’s cabin.” Steve kneads the space between his eyebrows, trying to get rid of the tension headache that’s starting to form.

Diana tilts her head, confused. “That’s kind of her.”

“I’m not actually dating anyone,” Steve clarifies. “I just said it to get her off my back. And now I have to either say I lied—which will not go over well for obvious reasons—or say that I broke up with the person and get all sorts of ‘holiday pity’.”

Diana leans elegantly against his doorframe. “People go their separate ways all the time, no? Besides, maybe it’s a bit soon for a weekend away with friends.”

Steve winces. “It’s possible that I told her this almost six months ago and never corrected the record.”

“Ah,” says Diana, taking the liberty of moving into his office and sitting down across from him. “So it’s rather a large deception then.”

“I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand? It was just so nice to not have my friends nagging me about my dating life. They’re well intentioned but a little too insistent sometimes.”

“Okay, so telling them is out of the question,” Diana says, very seriously. And—uh-oh, she’s going into problem-solving mode. He’s absolutely mortified that his very capable and very attractive co-worker is taking time to talk with him about this when she’s a literal international human rights lawyer and university lecturer with plenty of other things to be doing. “Hmm. Isn’t that what Craigslist is for?”

“Ha,” says Steve. “I’m never going to be able to get someone to come with me over Christmas on such short notice.”

“Not everyone has plans on Christmas,” Diana argues.

“Yeah, I get that; I’m not even Christian,” says Steve. “But a lot of people still go home because it’s a long holiday.”

“I’m not Christian either and I don’t have any family here in the States. We exist,” Diana jokes.

“Want to be my fake date, then?” The words leave Steve’s mouth before his brain can catch up and tell him what a massively stupid idea that would be, to fake date his real crush, for lack of a better word.

“Yes, alright: if you can’t find someone on Craigslist, I’ll do it,” says Diana, and then before Steve can process: “Anyways, I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. I just dropped by to give you a hard copy of my revisions. She hands him the legal brief, shoots him a quick smile, and saunters out of his office, apparently unaware of the dazed state she’s left him in.

I’ll do it? Is she serious? For a second, Steve’s mind runs away from him before he shuts it down. She was just being polite; he’s certain of it. There’s no way she wants to give up her days off to go to a cabin in the middle of nowhere with people she doesn’t even know.

Steve reluctantly writes up a quick wanted ad on Craigslist and hits post before he can overthink it. He can definitely do a fake date for the holidays, right? That’s something normal people do.

Three days later, he’s gotten a dozen responses to the Craigslist ad, but most of them are variants of either “is this some weird sex thing?” or “can you please post this story on reddit’s r/relationships with an update on how it went because i’m 2000 miles away but very invested in this”. None of them are a real live person that he can take on the trip to meet his friends.

His brain has also been playing Diana’s I’ll do it on repeat pretty much constantly, so on Tuesday evening, after most people have already gone home for the night, he steals himself and wanders down to Diana’s office. If she’s in, he’ll ask. If she’s gone, it’s a sign, and he won’t bring it up.

She’s still there, illuminated only by the glow of her computer and a small desk lamp—the overhead light is turned off and her coat is on, like maybe she was in the process of leaving and then went back to her desk to dash off one email that turned into several.

He taps on the doorframe.

“Steve!” she says, smiling when she sees him. “What a pleasant surprise! Have a seat, I’m just finishing something up. It’ll only be a moment.”

He smiles nervously and takes one of the chairs opposite her desk, patiently silent as she taps away at her computer.

Three minutes later, she folds her laptop closed and turns the weight of her attention to him.

“Thank you for being patient. What can I do for you?”

“I just—were you serious?”

“Hmm?”

“The other day—were you serious about being my fake date if I couldn’t find someone on Craigslist?”

“I—yes, I was.”

“Wait, really?”

She shrugs elegantly. “I have no holiday plans.”

“You’re sure.”

She tosses him an amused expression. “I am. It’ll be nice to meet some new people.”

“Right. Well. Can I, uh, buy you dinner or something while we go over the details?”

Diana considers him for a moment. “How does Thai takeout at my place sound?”

“Like a fantastic idea.”

On Friday, Steve is extremely antsy. He’s taken a half day, and he and Diana are driving up to Charlie’s cabin after her lecture lets out.

She’s in a good mood when he picks her up, and the ensuing discussion crosses a half a dozen different topics. He doesn’t think they’ve ever had a boring conversation, and they’re more than halfway there before Steve remembers that he wanted to run through the basics of their fake-dating mandate again.

“I’ve never really been much for PDA,” he says, “so they won’t be surprised if we’re not particularly demonstrative. A little hand-holding and casual touching here and there and we’ll be fine.”

“Yes,” replies Diana, amused rather than annoyed. “You mentioned this the other day.”

“Did I? I guess I’m just nervous.” He’s already feeling a little guilty about lying to his friends (again), and he’s suddenly wondering if he’s capable of pulling it off.

“They asked me to invite you—er, my significant other—to a dinner in October. I don’t think it’ll come up, but—”

“I spent a week of October in Europe, and have plenty of university functions to attend,” Diana reassures him. “Saying I was busy that night probably isn’t even a lie, and besides, that was months ago. Take a breath; this will be okay.”

“I’m just rethinking this,” huffs Steve.

“You’re welcome to tell them I’m just a friend that needed a place to stay for the holidays,” Diana offers calmly.

“No. No, I’m committed to the lie now.”

“Okay. Then let’s do this. I’m here for you, you know.”

“Yeah,” says Steve, glancing over at her in the passenger seat before turning his attention back to the road. “Thanks.”

They’re the last ones to arrive to the cabin, because everyone else was able to take the full day off, so they walk into a full house.

“Oh, it’s so lovely to finally meet you!” exclaims Etta, pulling Diana into a hug before they’ve barely gotten in the door.

“You must be Etta,” Diana says, once she’s been let go. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hey, Etta,” Steve says, pulling her in for his own hug.

“Everyone else is in the living room.”

They make their way down the hall, towards the sound of all the voices.

“Steve!” yells Sameer from across the room when they round the corner. A cheer goes up—it’s possible that some of them have already had a glass or two of wine—and Steve pulls Diana forward to introduce her.

“Everyone, this is Diana. Diana, this is Napi, Charlie, Etta’s wife Adrienne, Sameer, and Sameer’s fiancée Noor.”

“It’s so lovely to meet all of you,” says Diana, moving forward to shake hands and give hugs, along with Steve.

“You’ll want to drop off your luggage in your room, I’m sure,” Etta declares forcefully, shooing them back out of the room once they’re done with the greetings.

“Alright, alright, we’re going,” acquiesces Steve.

“Well, dinner will be done shortly, and I’m sure you’re hungry. Best get settled in before you go into a food coma.”

“Stop making sense,” he snarks, but they all know he’s joking.

“Second door on the left!” calls Etta after him, as they traipse up the stairs. There’s a niggling in his brain about this room, because he’s been in it once and it’s—

“Shit,” says Steve under his breath upon entering the room, because it’s one of the rooms with a single queen bed instead of two twins.

“Is there something wrong with the room?” asks Diana, a step behind him. “I’m sure we can fix it, whatever it is.”

“No, it’s just—I didn’t even think about this,” says Steve, gesturing at the bed. “Usually when I come, I’m in a different room with Charlie or Napi.”

Diana surveys the space in front of them. “You mean the bed?” Her nose wrinkles. “Are you really that uncomfortable sharing?”

“I—no, of course I’m not. I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Well then, that’s settled. I am not uncomfortable. Which side do you prefer?”

Of course it’s not a big deal. Right. He’s making too much out of this because he might—possibly—have feelings. But for Diana, it’s just two adults sharing a bed, which is perfectly natural. But now she’s looking at him expectantly, which makes him realize—“Uh, left, I guess.”

The way she smiles, he gets the distinct impression that his answer has pleased her, that he’s chosen correctly, if such a thing is possible. (He thinks, stupidly, that he would do quite a lot to chase that smile.)

Meanwhile, Diana drops her duffel on the right side of the bed.

“Do you mind if I change quickly before dinner?”

“Yeah, no, of course. I’ll just be downstairs.”

Steve heads back downstairs and pauses in the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face.

He can definitely share a bed with Diana. They’re adults. It’s not strange, and it’s not romantic. It’s just two people sharing a sleeping space because there are not enough beds.

He reenters the living room to find Charlie and Sameer in the middle of an argument about who’s the better cross-country skier while Noor, Adrienne, and Etta chat over a cup of tea and Napi watches over several pots in the kitchen.

“The answer, of course, is neither of you. Noor is the best skier here.”

Charlie squawks indignantly, and Sameer laughs. “That she is.”

“Can someone set the table?” asks Napi. “Dinner is about to be ready.”

Steve, as the closest one to the kitchen, pulls out the plates and silverware and starts setting up the table, while the others slowly drift towards the dining area.

And then there’s a gentle pressure on his elbow. “Can I help with anything?” asks Diana, softly, and when he turns, he feels the air knocked out of him.

Diana is all comfort, in simple black leggings and a chunky winter sweater instead of her usual pristine business wear, but she’s all the more beautiful for the casualness. Her face, too, is wiped clean of standard makeup and her hair is down, and he realizes that she has freckles. They’re faint, just the slightest smattering over her nose and cheeks, but Steve is close enough to see them, and for a second he wants to touch them, trace them into constellations.

Then he realizes he’s staring and jumps a little, moving to rearrange the plate in front of him.

“You could, uh, fold the napkins, I guess? There isn’t really a whole lot to do.”

They work in tandem as the rest of the crew files in, loud and boisterous as they dish out their meals.

“So, Diana,” says Etta, once everyone is settled in their seats, “tell us all about yourself! Steve’s been so tight-lipped about you that I was starting to think you didn’t exist.”

Steve almost chokes on his wine, but Diana doesn’t so much as flinch, simply smiling at Etta and saying, “Well, I’m not sure what you’d like to know, but I’m originally from one of the Grecian islands and I completed my studies in the UK. Right now, I’m splitting my time between the US and the Netherlands.”

“Oh, what part of the Netherlands?” asks Noor. “Sameer and I both lived there, at different points!”

“Just the Hague, I’m afraid,” says Diana ruefully, because it’s not known for its charms.

“Diana’s on a prosecutorial team at the International Criminal Court,” Steve clarifies, which prompts a number of impressed looks all around the table.

“We’re in between cases right now,” Diana says, “and we’re only just starting to file some pre-trial motions for the next thing on our docket, so I took a position as a guest lecturer here in the States. A friend of mine convinced me to take the consulting position at the ARGUS Foundation since it’s not full-time.” When Diana pauses, she notices a number of raised eyebrows around the table. “I think the expression in English is ‘I wear a lot of hats’,” she jokes.

“She’s a wonder,” interjects Steve easily, and he doesn’t even have to work at the soft look that he gives her. (He’ll interrogate the fact that it’s just how he looks at her later, when he’s alone and can have a nice little panic about it.)

“I just like to have purpose,” says Diana, and then Noor asks her about her last case, and the conversation takes on a life of its own.

Diana, as he suspected, gets on well with his friends, fitting in as though she’s known them years instead of hours, and they migrate into the living room after dinner, talking and laughing into the late hours of the evening.

“They are all lovely,” Diana tells him the moment the door to their room has closed behind them.

“They’re okay,” says Steve, but his face is pulled up in a smile, and Diana just laughs. He’s spent all evening getting to look at her whenever he wants, and even though they’re alone, even though there’s no need for his eyes to keep finding her, he doesn’t want to pull them away.

“They’re all so interesting!” Diana exclaims. “Sameer and I talked about linguistics for a full half an hour, and Etta and Adrienne’s stories are incredible!”

That makes him laugh. “Yeah, Etta’s something else.”

They talk a little more as they get ready for bed, and finally there’s nothing more to do but turn out the light and get under the covers. Steve’s tired enough that he thinks he has a decent shot at falling asleep, but he feels a little awkward as they both shift carefully on their respective sides.

“Hey,” he whispers into the deepness of the silky black night. “Thank you again for being here.”

“It is my pleasure.”

He listens to Diana’s breathing quickly even out, and though it takes him a little longer, he too falls asleep without too much trouble, despite her nearness.

To his great relief, or maybe to his great disappointment, they wake up in almost the exact same positions that they fell asleep in, on completely opposite sides of the bed.

“Good morning,” says Diana softly, hair slightly mussed and eyes still a little heavy with sleep, and frankly Steve’s not sure how he’s going to make it through the rest of the trip, because he likes her so much and also doesn’t want to impose his feelings.

“Good morning. I hope you’re ready for another insane day.”

“Once I’ve had some coffee, absolutely.”

“Well then,” says Steve, “let’s get you some coffee.”

Coffee is followed by breakfast, which is chaotic because everyone is up at slightly different times and traditionally, they fend for themselves for breakfast which means in practice that half a dozen people end up doing things in the kitchen at the same time.

The rest of the day is no calmer, as they all pack themselves up and spill outside for a snowy hike that lasts most of the afternoon. Diana, Etta, and Napi establish themselves as the fastest hikers early on, and they sort of naturally split into two groups. The whole group meets back up at one of the lookout points, where the faster group has lingered to let the rest catch up.

Steve uses the viewpoint to check in with Diana. “You doing okay?”

When she turns to him, her cheeks are rosy with exertion, her breath is coming out in silvery puffs in the cold air, and her eyes are dancing. “Excellent, you?”

“Really good.” They take in the snowy view in front of them. “Hey, I didn’t mean to leave you on your own,” Steve says, suddenly feeling a little awkward.

Diana snorts. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I was the one that walked ahead of you. If I’d been bothered, I wouldn’t have split off with Napi and Etta.”

“Right, of course.” He feels a bit stupid; she’s never struck him as the type to do something she really didn’t want to.

“We should probably walk back together though. For appearances.” She winks at him, and before he can respond, Noor is at his elbow.

��Can I take a picture for you two?”

“That would be great,” says Diana, handing Noor her phone as she slips her arm around his waist.

Pictures are snapped, and then they’re headed back down the trail. Steve ends up so engrossed in his conversation with Diana that the rest of the group fades away, and on the last straightway after they’ve descended, Diana reaches out and casually links their hands. Even through their gloves, it’s a giddy feeling.

That night after dinner, Steve steps outside for a moment of respite from the noisiness of the cabin. He breathes deeply, and stares at the patch of sky not covered in clouds, picking out a familiar constellation.

“Diana’s wonderful.”

Steve looks up from where he was leaning against the balcony railing to find that Etta has joined him outside.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great,” Steve agrees.

“I’m sorry you didn’t feel comfortable introducing us earlier,” says Etta so sincerely that Steve feels a squirming guilt welling up. “But if this was the pace you needed to go to be sure of your relationship, to make it solid and lasting, I’m glad you took the space to do so.”

“Right,” Steve echoes.

“Seriously, Steve,” says Etta, touching his arm, so that he’s almost forced to look at her. “You and Diana are so well-suited, and she’s good for you—I’ve never seen you like this.”

“What’s this?”

Etta contemplates him a moment. “You’re happy,” she says simply, and Steve rolls his eyes, because if Etta thinks just being in a relationship equates to—“but it’s not just that. You’re…still. Calm. You’ve usually got this frenetic, discontented energy, and with Diana it’s quieted.”

It makes Steve pause, but before he can say anything—refute her or maybe, heaven forbid, agree with her—Diana herself is bursting onto the balcony.

“There you are!” she exclaims, wrapping her arms around him from the back, and fuck, maybe it is his instinct to relax in the split second before he remembers that this is all an act. “Charlie says we’re roasting marshmallows over the fire, and I’m told that you have the technique perfected,” she says, with all the exuberant glee of a child.

Steve pointedly ignores the knowing, indulgent look on Etta’s face as he turns in Diana’s arms to face her, a small but unquashable smile on his face. “That’s a classic holiday tradition for us—I was wondering when Charlie was going to break them out. Have you ever had a s’more?”

“No, but I’m looking forward to it!”

“Well, then we can’t let Sameer or Etta roast yours; they always burn them.”

“It’s meant to be eaten with a little char,” says Etta.

“Absolutely not!” Steve doesn’t have time to say any more, because Diana has laced her hand in his and his gently tugging him toward the interior.

“Right. This is an American classic and you’re gonna love it.”

After making her the perfect marshmallow—gold and toasty, and soft all the way through without being burned—the rest of the night is spent roasting increasingly silly things over the coals and drinking copious amounts of hot chocolate and eggnog that are optionally spiked, utterly warm and cozy.

“Tell me something about yourself,” requests Diana, when they’re tucked into bed later, still on their own sides but far closer together than they were the night before.

“Like what?”

“Something—well, not something secret, if you don’t want to. But something that most people probably don’t know.”

Steve considers her for a moment, shifting so that he’s facing her, the moon providing just enough light that he can see the contours of her face. “I wanted to be a pilot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I wanted to be a fighter pilot.”

Diana grins. “I can see that. What stopped you?”

“I decided I wouldn’t really be helping people, and helping people is what I wanted to do. What about you?”

“What did I want to be?”

“No, just—anything.”

“Hmm,” says Diana. “My favorite childhood memories are those of my aunt, Antiope.”

“Was she the cool aunt who spoiled you rotten?”

“She was the aunt that got me up at six in the morning every day to train.”

“Wow, that’s neat, I guess,” Steve deadpans, and Diana laughs in the darkness, rolling onto her side so that she’s facing him, so that they’re almost nose to nose.

“She was also more indulgent than my mother, yes.”

“I think we have very different definitions of indulgent,” says Steve.

“Perhaps,” says Diana, and despite how late it is, they spend another hour or two trading secrets in the darkness before falling asleep. Steve learns, among other things, that she loves cherries more than any other fruit, that she’d rather take the metro than a cab any day of the week, that she played the harp for a while and misses playing music but not playing the instrument itself. When they finally drift off to sleep, it’s still facing each other, fingers inches apart.

Steve wakes up feeling incredibly comfortable and very cozy. It’s only when he stretches a little that he realizes that the warm weight against his chest is not his blanket, but Diana. During the night, they must have migrated into each other, because now that his brain is coming back online, Steve realizes that not only is Diana tucked into his chest, but their legs are twined together. His shifting causes her to stir a little, but only to nuzzle against him a little before settling.

This is fine; he’s not freaking out. Not about how they’re accidentally pressed together, or about how much he likes her, or about what any of this means. Not about lines blurring and becoming harder to make out, not about lying to his friends. He’s fine.

Taking a breath, he weighs his options. He can wait for Diana to wake up and pretend he’s still asleep, and let her figure out how to react, or he can try to extricate himself now. Although it might wake her up, and then it would be doubly awkward, and—

And he’s waited too long in deciding, because Diana stretches a little sleepily and then blinks her eyes open, looking up at him.

“Good morning,” she says, apparently unbothered by their position. It’s making him spiral in confusion, and want, because it would be so easy to lean forward and kiss her, but neither has she directly expressed interest in him romantically, so he’s not about to actually do it.

“Did you sleep well?” asks Diana, gently untangling herself and sitting up.

Now that Steve thinks about it, he realizes that he’s slept better than he has in ages.

“Yeah,” he affirms a little hoarsely. “You?”

“Very well.” He’s considering saying something else—anything else, maybe apologizing for how closely they slept or, alternatively, telling her he adores her—when she continues, “How do you think everyone would feel about quiche?”

“Quiche?”

“One of the few reliable things I can cook,” says Diana, “but I have a good recipe, and I’m quite certain we have everything I’d need.”

Steve blinks. “I think it’d go over well.”

“Perfect!” Diana slips out of bed, sliding across the room with more of her infectious energy as she gathers her clothing for the day.

By the time Steve gets downstairs post-shower, Diana’s got the crust rolled out and blind-baking and has a number of veggies sautéing.

“Oh, good, you’re here! Can you pass me the mushrooms?” she asks, and he obliges, then takes it upon himself to crumble the cheese for her.

“Do you cook a lot?” he asks, and then curses himself, glancing around to make sure they’re alone and that nobody heard what was clearly a question that he, by all rights, should know the answer to. Blessedly, the only other person up is Napi, and he’s out on the porch.

“Not if I can help it,” says Diana. “You?”

“I enjoy it,” says Steve.

“Enjoy what?” asks Sameer, who’s just come down the stairs.

“Passing me ingredients when I tell him to,” teases Diana, successfully covering up what may have been a slip-up, because Sameer just rolls his eyes.

“You two are ridiculous.”

“More like adorable,” says Etta, who has apparently also been summoned by the smell of brewing coffee. “By the way—how did you two start dating? I’ve been meaning to ask since I never heard the story from this one”—she gestures at Steve—“and I’m sure it’s equally adorable.”

Steve can’t believe they’ve come this far without being asked, and that they didn’t do a better job of anticipating this question. He’s about to bumble his way through a response, but Diana, who is now pouring the egg mixture into the pan, has it covered.

“It’s sweet to me because it is ours, but I think you’ll otherwise find it quite boring. My third day of work, I came to his office by accident, looking for another colleague, and we traded a couple of jokes. Two days later, a bunch of people from the office went out for drinks after work, and I ran into Steve again. We spent a lot of the evening chatting, and when we left for the evening, he walked me to my train, and as we were waiting on the platform, he asked me out. He was kind and funny and handsome; there was no reason not to say yes.”

For a moment, Steve feels like he’s been hit by a train, because that’s actually how they met. They did spend an evening chatting, and he did wait on the platform with her. The only bit that didn’t happen was the asking out, and now he wonders what might have happened if he had. Then he reminds himself that it’s all an act, and she’s supposed to be acting like she likes him. He’s getting reality confused with the little mirage they’ve created.

“—it is sweet though,” Etta is saying when he snaps back to attention, unsure of just how much he’s missed.

“Yes, Steve is very thoughtful,” says Diana fondly.

He doesn’t really get a chance to ask her about it, because soon everyone is crowded around the table for breakfast, and that quickly turns into a card game, where they get separated by a few seats. It all somehow blends into lunch, as people swap in and out, Sameer and Noor doing the cooking, this meal, with Adrienne flitting in and out to help as she puts up a few extra lights for tonight’s Christmas eve celebration. He tries not to think about it too much, because Diana looks like she’s having a good time, and he is too, and eventually he gets swept up in the game, focusing on counting trump and keeping track of tricks and arguing genially with Charlie about who may or may not be cheating.

“Steve.” Diana pulls him aside after lunch, tugging him into their room.

“What’s up?” She looks entirely too serious, and it worries him. Is this about their story? Is something wrong?

“First kisses are always a bit awkward,” she says bluntly.

It’s so out of the blue that Steve’s brain doesn’t even short-circuit. He just blinks. “Yeah, usually.”

“Well, I just saw Adrienne putting mistletoe up. Your friends are wonderful people, but if we don’t get caught under it naturally, they’ll make sure we do.”

She’s got his friends pegged; that’s absolutely how they operate.

“They’ll recognize something is off if we’ve never kissed. I think we need to practice.”

Now Steve’s brain short-circuits.

“Practice.”

“It’s the only way to make sure it’s not during an ambush.” Her eyes are wide and she’s very close, so close that one of them could erase the distance without even taking a step, but she’s paused, waiting.

Waiting to see if it’s okay, if she has his consent.

His thoughts flick back, inexplicably, to this morning. (Was it really just this morning that they woke up tangled together? It seems a week ago already.) Knowing what it’s like to kiss her will probably explode his brain, but not knowing is worse. He nods, just a fraction, words caught in his throat, and then she’s closed the distance and pressed her lips to his.

Fireworks are for dramatic novels, but the world still shifts on its axis. It’s soft and slow, exploratory, but the pressure is somehow just right, and it consumes him. It’s everything he never let himself imagine it would be, and more. When she eventually pulls away—seconds, minutes, hours later, he’s not sure—he chases her lips for a moment before remembering himself, marshalling his reaction and pulling away in equal measure.

“Right, so. No mistletoe first kiss,” he manages, because seriously, what the fuck, he’s never had a first kiss feel that natural, that right.

“Mission accomplished,” says Diana faintly. “I think we’ll be fine.”

“Fine,” Steve echoes, and he thinks he sees Diana’s gaze flick back to his lips, dark and heavy, but then there’s the pounding of feet on the stairs and shouts outside their room.

“Steve! Diana! Are you in for another round of cards before we start the movie marathon?”

Diana startles, and takes three steps back, smoothing down her hair, her shirt, before opening the door to find Adrienne there, looking at them expectantly.

“Yes, of course,” says Diana.

“Oh,” smirks Adrienne, giving them a once over. “I can come back.”

“No, it’s alright. I’ll come down now; I want to get a cup of tea before we start up again. Steve?”

“I—yeah, a cup of tea would be great. Black tea—”

“—with a dash of honey, I know,” she says fondly, as if this is old news and not something she’s clearly picked up in the last day and a half.

“Thanks.”

When he collects himself and comes downstairs a few minutes later, he spots Diana across the room, head thrown back in laughter as she chats with Napi over the kettle.

She fits, he thinks. He’s seen her in professional settings, being diplomatic even when she doesn’t want to be, but here, she’s relaxed, and from everything she’s said, she likes his friends as much as they like her. Isn’t it sort of everyone’s dream that the person they like gets along with their friends?

He takes another second to try to untangle his thoughts before he gets ushered back into the fold and has to pretend that everything is uncomplicated.

Christmas day dawns bright and cold, and sees, for the second day in a row, Diana snuggled into Steve. Despite another meandering conversation in the dark—in which he absolutely chickened out of asking her about the backstory she created for them, or the kiss—and starting the night on different sides of the bed, they seem to have rolled together in their sleep, and if he didn’t wake up with an absolutely parched throat, Steve would’ve probably gone right back to sleep, enjoying the warmth. Instead, he extricates himself gently, and by the time he gets back to the room a few minutes later, Diana is up and dressed, dashing any plans he might’ve been entertaining for a bit of a lie-in.

As with most things on their holiday trips, the day is centered around food. There’s a huge brunch, and then a little foray outside—nothing like the hike the day before yesterday, just a little walk that turns into a snow angel contest—and then it’s back inside to start cooking Christmas dinner. It’s Etta and Charlie taking point, because, as Steve explains to Diana, the group rule for any and all holidays is that those who observe do the traditional cooking, and everybody else takes care of the clean-up.

At one point in the afternoon, a trivia game gets pulled out, and in a classic showdown of boys (Steve, Sameer, Napi) vs. girls (Diana, Noor, Adrienne), the ladies trounce them thoroughly. There’re plenty of mimosas and someone starts a Christmas playlist, and honestly, Steve can’t think of a better Christmas in a long, long time.

They don’t really exchange ‘real’ gifts, but they do have a long-standing tradition of an intense game of White Elephant, which happens after dinner.

No less than 4 items (a succulent in a corgi-shaped pot, a coffee mug with some gratuitously dirty language on it, a pair of wool socks with Munch’s The Scream emblazoned on them, and an umbrella patterned with cartoon gentleman amongst the raindrops so that it’s always raining men) get stolen so many times that they hit the limit. (Diana walks away the proud owner of the socks, thanks to a strategic steal by Steve, which sets her up to steal them for the last time.)

The mood is so light that Steve has almost forgotten that this isn’t quite real, that he’s lying to his friends and sort of lying to Diana, too. That comes crashing down when they bump into each other coming back into the living room.

See, Steve and Diana had managed to casually avoid the newly strung up mistletoe all of Christmas Eve and most of Christmas day—at least together, that is; at one point Steve finds himself under the mistletoe with Sameer, and they both dramatically grip each other for a theatre kiss—by sheer luck, but their luck runs out after White Elephant. Steve has gone into the kitchen to deposit an empty tray of food, and Diana is on her way back from the bathroom, and they collide in the doorframe.

Instinctively, Steve puts a hand out, touching the small of her back lightly to anchor himself and steady her. It’s just a casual touch, but he lingers a second too long.

“Oooh, look! Steve and Diana are under the mistletoe!” sings Adrienne, pointing from across the room.

Steve glances up automatically, as though maybe Adrienne might be wrong, even though he knows damn well that there’s mistletoe hanging there.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” chants Etta, clearly a little tipsy, and the rest of his asshole friends join in the chant.

Steve’s eyes flick to Diana’s, and she raises an eyebrow, inclines her head almost imperceptibly. It’s permission, so he leans in and gives her a quick kiss, their lips barely touching. He’s not sure he can handle more in front of his friends right now, not with all of the emotions pooling in his stomach.

“Boo!” yells Charlie. “You and Sameer had a better kiss than that!”

There’s general clamoring of assent, and Diana reaches out and cups a hand to his cheek, to a great whoop from someone in their little peanut gallery. “If you are uncomfortable, we do not have to do this,” Diana murmurs, low and close enough that only he can hear it.

The real problem is that Steve wants little more than to kiss her again, but he feels guilty about it.

“It’s okay.”

She searches his eyes for a moment, and then closes the rest of the distance, kissing him properly. He sinks into it, and relishes in the little gasp he elicits when he deepens the kiss just a little. It’s the catcalling that splits them apart, and he’s sure he looks a little shell-shocked.

“That’s a kiss!” hollers Adrienne.

To his surprise, Diana doesn’t immediately move away from him, but stays tucked into his side, blushing a little.

“You’re all just a little too invested in our love life,” she admonishes lightly, but the point is missed as Etta launches into a bit of a ramble about how Steve introduced her to Adrienne by accident and how she’s been looking to return the favor, but that she’s glad Diana is here.

Steve watches Diana go a bit pink again, and wants to pull her aside, try to clear some things up, but then there’s another round of mulled wine, and they settle in for one last Christmas movie before the day ends.

Diana goes to bed before Steve does, while he stays back to have another round with Charlie, and by the time he realizes that he wanted to talk to her alone, she’s fast asleep.

The morning of the twenty-sixth is chaotic from the start; Diana’s up and out of bed before Steve wakes up, and then everyone is scrambling to pack up before they all drive back to the city. This time, Diana and Steve have got Sameer and Noor with them, because they came with Napi, who’s leaving directly to visit some extended family, and Etta and Adrienne don’t have enough room because they’re Charlie’s ride. It’s a pleasant ride, and Noor, Sameer, and Diana spend a solid half hour swapping in and out of Arabic to tease Steve, who does speak three languages himself, but doesn’t count darija as one of them.

They drop Noor and Sameer off with promises of seeing them at Etta’s party on New Year’s Eve, at the very latest, and suddenly they’re alone again.

“Thank you again for doing this,” says Steve. “You were the best fake date I could’ve asked for.”

“It was my pleasure,” says Diana. “I had a really good time, and a fun holiday.”

“And you really don’t mind putting in an appearance at the New Year’s Eve party?”

“Not at all. I’m actually looking forward to it.”

“Good; I think everyone is looking forward to having you there.”

They’re quiet as they pull up to Diana’s building.

Before Diana can move to get out of the car, Steve takes a deep breath. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything.” Her wide eyes are trained on him, and he almost loses his nerve.

But it’s now or never; he has to know if this is just him or if she feels something too. “If I had asked you out, that night on the platform, would you have said yes?” It feels like the safest version of the question he wants to ask.

Diana doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

It knocks the wind out of him and is simultaneously one of the best things he’s ever heard, because maybe that means there’s still time to make a proper go of it.

“Do you—”

He’s cut off by Diana leaning forward and kissing him sweetly, and he instinctively pulls her a little closer, deepens the kiss without consciously thinking about it.

“Sorry, I interrupted you,” says Diana, biting back a smile when they eventually pull apart, breathless. It makes Steve laugh, and he can’t fight the grin that’s also building. There’s no one around to fool, no one around even to prepare for; this is just them.

“Do you want to come to mine for dinner tonight?” Steve asks, bubbling with a profound sort of happiness. “For a real date this time?”

“I would love that,” says Diana, grinning. “No tricks, no fake backstories. Just us.”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”

“Just give me a couple of hours to shower and change and answer a couple of emails?” Diana says.

“How does seven sound? I’ll cook.”

“I can’t wait.”

He watches her go, almost floating from how giddy he feels. As he drives home, he mentally goes over what he’ll need to get for the meal he wants to make. Truly, it was the best fake date ever; he might, he thinks, even consider posting the story of it to the r/relationships thread like one of the Craigslist messages asked, because it’s so wonderfully peculiar.

“Right on time!” says Steve with a grin when Diana knocks on his door that evening for their date.

His smile falls when he notices her face, tired and serious, despite how light it had been only hours ago.

“Steve, I have to go,” she says without preamble.

“What?”

“I’m flying back to the Netherlands tonight.” What? That can’t be right; she’s not due back for several months, and even that’s only a trip. Steve’s brain lags a second and then realizes she’s still talking, dark eyes all apologies. “—straight to the airport from here, actually. I just came by to say goodbye. It seemed like the sort of thing that should be done in person.”

“But what—”

“You know who Patrick Morgan is, yes?”

Of course he knows who Patrick Morgan is; he’s a war criminal who was only caught and extradited recently. It made waves when jurisdiction was given over to the ICC, at least among the relevant international communities.

“The war criminal?” he asks, just to confirm.

Diana nods. “That’s the one. Look, I’m not really meant to be talking about my cases, but I’m on the prosecutorial team and his lawyers are good. They’re trying to file a pre-trial motion that would—well, let’s just say it would be bad if the judge ruled in their favor. We’re scrambling and I’m needed back at the office, in person.”

“Shit.” There’s nothing else to say, really. She’s the one who can make sure Patrick Morgan doesn’t hurt anyone else, and that’s that.

“It’s awful timing,” whispers Diana, and there’s true regret in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. You’re doing what has to be done.”

“I wish it didn’t,” says Diana. “I wanted to—I don’t know, go on a proper date and go to your friends’ New Year’s party with you, and this has just—it’s mucked it all up, hasn’t it?”

“An understatement,” says Steve, laughing wetly. Maybe—

“I have to call the ARGUS Foundation from the car, get everything squared away in regards to my commitments there. Gods, this is such a nightmare.” Diana’s pacing now, and Steve can see all their possibilities slipping away, now that she’s returning to the Netherlands. It’s not the most important thing, this casualty of what could have been, but it still breaks a little piece of Steve’s heart all the same.

“I wish we had more time,” says Steve, a little bittersweet, because there’s not much else to say. Diana sends him a sad smile and nods.

“I really have to go. I might even miss my flight as it is.”

“Right, of course.”

She looks at him hesitantly for a moment, like she’s going to say something more, and then pulls him into a hug. As she pulls back, she kisses him softly. It feels like goodbye more than any words could.

Then her phone rings, and she looks at him apologetically one more time, a quick, “I’m sorry,” before taking her leave and answering it. He hears her frustrated Dutch echoing down the hall as she walks away.

After she leaves, he feels a little aimless, and a little numb. It doesn’t quite sink in that Diana is gone, but he does think, absently, that something bad was bound to happen, because nothing catastrophic happened over the holidays—no real fights, no disastrous weather; it all went too smoothly.

The next few days are a slog: he’s back in the office, technically, but everything has slowed down substantially in between the holidays, just enough to not really keep him occupied.

It scares him a little how much he misses Diana. They were sort-of friends before the fake-dating charade, more friendly-coworkers than anything, but he got used to her being a part of his daily life absurdly quickly and is having a hard time adjusting back. They could have been something spectacular, he knows, if circumstances hadn’t made it impossible.

She texts him when she lands, and he’s glad to know she’s made it safely, but it ignites a fresh wave of ache such that he’s almost glad she doesn’t answer his text back, or text again. He ends up ignoring his phone, mostly, trying to distract himself from thinking about what wasn’t meant to be. (It’s bad luck with fate: if they’d had more time, if they were something real, he might consider moving, but it’s too soon, too early, even if he thinks he might already love her.)

On New Year’s Eve, he spends most of the day cooking, Netflix on in the background, whiling away time before the party Etta and Adrienne are throwing.

“Where’s Diana?” asks Etta, when she opens the door and finds Steve there, alone, carrying three tiers of Tupperware and a bottle of champagne, because of course she does. All his friends adore Diana too.

“She had to fly back to the Netherlands for a case,” says Steve morosely, unable to say anymore because he might choke up, and crying is fine but not during a New Year’s Eve party.

“Oh, what a shame she’ll miss New Year’s! When is she coming back?”

The fresh, stricken look on Steve’s face tells Etta everything she needs to know. “Oh, luv, I’m so sorry. I know long distance isn’t easy.”

It’s the perfect excuse presenting itself, really. In a month, Steve can say that the distance was too much, and Etta will understand, and that will be that. He’ll be out of this lie, too, with no one the wiser that it started as a fake thing. But right now, Steve is still mourning the fact that it never got to be anything real in the first place.

“It is what it is,” says Steve, trying for a smile.

“Well,” says Etta, also going for something resembling cheery. “We’ve got plenty of alcohol and a place for you to crash tonight, if you want it.”

“Thanks, Etta.”

He whiles away the night nursing a glass of wine and floating amongst friends and acquaintances, trying to enjoy the merriment. Etta, bless her, must spread the word that Diana had to leave for work, because only Noor asks after her, right after he gets inside. After that, he doesn’t have to answer any further questions, and instead focuses on the laughter and brightness radiating from his friends.

At a few minutes to midnight, he slips off to a quiet corner, not quite ready to face the rowdy, kissing couples.

Somewhere behind him, the apartment door slams, and there’s something of a commotion, but he doesn’t bother to investigate until—

“Did I make it in time?” asks a breathless voice.

Steve turns, and there, standing in front of him, a vision in a bright red coat, is Diana.

“But how—?” She’s meant to be in Europe, but she’s very much not. She’s here.

She’s here.

“We finished a little early and I got the first flight out. I took a cab from the airport to get here as fast as I could.”

“You hate cabs,” says Steve helplessly, fixating on something that’s very much not the point because it’s one of the many strange things they talked about, and because it’s somehow easier to focus on than any other part of it.

“I wanted to be here.” Her eyes are twinkling, and Steve can’t quite believe she’s here, on New Year’s Eve, and—shit.

“But what about the case?”

“We got the motion thrown out,” she exclaims, delight lacing her words. “We’re proceeding as scheduled. I’ll have to go back for a bit starting in May, but—”

That phrasing catches Steve’s attention. “Wait, you’re not moving back to the Netherlands permanently?”

“What?” asks Diana, looking genuinely perplexed. “No! It was just a business trip, inconveniently timed. I was never moving back. Did you think—”

“I thought—” says Steve, at the exact same time.

There’s a look of recognition on Diana’s face, as if she’s doing the maths, going back over the conversations they had once more in her head. She bites her lip, shakes her head. Laughs.

“We are both a bit stupid, I think,” she says. “I was never going to be gone more than a week or two, but I suppose I didn’t make that clear enough. I thought it was just bad timing, since we were starting something, but you—”

Steve shakes his head, incredulous. “I thought I might never see you again, but you’re really here.”

Diana reaches out and ever so softly touches his cheek. “Yes. So, did I miss the countdown?”

Steve stops fighting the smile that’s building. “Nope. And you know, they say whatever you’re doing at midnight you’ll be doing for the rest of the year.”

“Do they? You’d best choose wisely, then.”

“I’ve got an idea.” The countdown hasn’t started yet, but he leans in slowly anyways, because he figures they’ve wasted enough time. She meets his lips eagerly, and in the background, Steve can hear Etta’s whoop of excitement, but really, the only thing that matters is Diana, and the feel of her lips underneath his.

It’s just as earth-shaking as it was the first few times, but they break apart momentarily as the countdown actually begins from the other room. When midnight hits, they kiss again, a little shorter this time, their smiles too wide to make it a proper kiss.

“Happy New Year, Steve,” whispers Diana, forehead pressed to his.

“Happy New Year,” he echoes. An endless plurality of shifting possibilities stretch before them, elastic and hopeful, and very real once more. From the other room, the chords of a piano start, a telltale sign that Charlie has started his traditional rendition of Auld Lang Syne.

“You know, eventually people are going to realize our anniversary isn’t in July.”

That elicits another giddy laugh, because somehow, he’s gotten lucky enough that this is his reality. “Yeah, but that’s a pretty good problem to have, all things considered. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“No,” says Diana thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t either.”

***

#misha-winchester #wondertrevsecretsanta #wondertrevsecretsanta2020 #wondertrev #diana prince #steve trevor #userpine

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atxlxs · 3 years ago

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Beyond The Veil: Chapter 4

The first day of UA high was vaguely threatening. Nedzu was a character that has been looking for an in to the veil for years. Everyone knew about it and everyone was betting on when someone would slip up and let him in. Now Muska had to be the reason Nedzu got in. Great.

The rest of the witches won’t let her escape unscathed. She’ll be hearing about this for years.

It didn’t help that Eras hadn’t stopped cackling since she woke up.

“Cackle one more time and I tell Nedzu that you're an old woman who is older than me and therefore has more knowledge and someone very important in the veil.”

It was an empty threat, Muska wouldn’t tell anyone about Eras’s titles and race. Not even under torture. Eras knew this. It still worked like a charm to shut her up though.

“Want me to take you or do you want to ride the train yourself?” Eras asked, passing a thermos to her.

Coffee, the sweet nectar of the gods, forged for our benefit.

“I’ll be fine on my own this time. Don’t want to be caught outside UA while Nedzu’s looking into the veil.”

“True, I’ll still be in town today though. A cat cafe I purchased a few years ago got a new batch of rescues and I wanna meet them.” Eras said, giving Tibbles a scratch under the chin eliciting a purr.

It sounded suspiciously like [Ah yes, favorite servant gives good scratches].

Ignoring her familiar, Muska nodded to Eras as she adjusted the skirt of her uniform (Ugh). She had emailed the rat-man last night that she would be willing to attend a meeting after school if time permits it. The rat had responded that despite there being a staff meeting that day, Muska could come and join it. Since Muska was given permission, she’s gonna crash it.

“See you later bestie,” Muska called out, as she left through the door, backpack in hand.

“Bye bestie!” came a shout back and yea, Nedzu might feel like a vague threat, but at least she could squash the rat like a bug. Who knows, she might just get along with him.

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

UA was a fucking maze and it’s the rat’s fault.

Muska was so close to just setting Tibbles loose on the principal. Even if that would give her a murder charge. As far as she’s concerned, she has a sugar mommy fully capable of paying bail. Fortunately for the rat, Muska found the 1-A labels door within the next 10 minutes. Sliding it open, She found Blue- annoyingly- giving another etiquette lecture to a very angry blondie. At least she would have some form of eye candy.

“So I guess it wasn’t the exam stress that twisted your panties. You're just built like that.” Muska said as she walked into the room. Blondie, surprisingly, snickered at her words. They then proceeded to look confused as to why. As if Muska was anything less than hilarious.

“Y-You!” The now called robocop boy stammered.

“Me.” Muska deadpanned. Moving her gaze to the board, she caught sight of her seat and thanked the forest that she was placed in the back, well not fully in the back. She was behind Greenie and in front of Yayo-Yaoyorozu? Yoyo. The girl will be dubbed Yoyo until future notice. She moved down the aisle and placed her bag on the desk hook, sliding into her seat and resting her head on her hand.

“How dare you! It is inappropriate to be so rude and mean to your fellow classmates! UA is a-” Muska cut him off with a glare.

“A school for teens. If you're so black and white that you can’t seem to relax then you should probably leave considering the world isn’t black and white. It's grey, and you’ll break one day if you can’t bend Robocop.” Muska stated, curtly. Damn this boy was annoying in the worst of ways. Midoriya turned around in his seat to give a smile and a small hello, despite his shaking frame that betrayed his somewhat confident introduction.

Not letting her frown at that show, Muska nodded and gave a hello back. As well as a wink to make him blush. It works and she wants entertainment. Eras would always quip back to their mock flirting. This could be just as fun if it always gets that much red on greenie, making him a strawberry.

Though blondie, looking up at the board revealed his name to be Bakugo Katsuki which- really? Why are the names so on point?- , was more of her type. Speaking of, Turning her attention towards the spikey blond hair, like a Pomeranian she idly noted, she found a piercing red gaze already directed towards her.

If it wasn’t for the fact that as a witch she could tell he wasn't one of them, she would’ve assumed some regular vampires had an influence in his genes.

Tilting her head, she let a smirk and raised eyebrow do the talking and watched with amusement as the boy scowled. Cocking his head he glared harshly and his eyes held a determined glow, practically speaking the thoughts “wanna go?” which was returned with “You fuckin bet.”

Before they could act on that declaration, Muska felt an energy shift and broke her eyes away first. Turning to the door, she saw the energy sluggishly inch forwards like a caterpillar. Quietly she pressed her hand to her mouth to stop the laugh that wanted to break free. Taking a few calming breaths, Muska shifted slightly to pay attention as the caterpillar revealed itself to Gravity Girl who had just made it in the door and was chatting with greenie which- when did he get up?

(Around the time he saw Muska and Bakugo glaring at each other, he wasn’t going to be caught between them. He might have self sacrificial tendencies but he had some form of self preservation-)

The caterpillar, who shed his sleeping bag to reveal a scruffy man who definitely needed some sleep, spoke up with a disappointed glare. Face a mask of indifference as he said,

“It took all of you 8 minutes to notice me, sans Viridis and by extension Bakugo, not fast enough. You’ll need to work on your spatial awareness if you want to become Heroes in the future.”

The man walked to his podium as Midoriya and Uraraka scrambled until they were seated. He reached behind it and took out a box and placed it on a students desk who was huge and had 6 arms.

“My name's Aizawa Shouta, your homeroom teacher for 1-A. Take these and put them on, meeting me in the training area.” A booklet was also placed on the desk and Muska assumed that it was the map booklet.

With that, he left.

Muska got up and walked briskly over to the box and snatched her uniform and opened the booklet quickly to find a red marked line of directions on a map. Nodding to herself, she left. Leaving the booklet for others, one picture heavier, Muska walked out of the room with her phone open and a gym uniform. All before the rest of the class reacted.

She was almost to the first turn when she heard the classroom door open and close with a slam and stomping feet. A quick glance told her that Bakugo had been the first to react. Turning back around, Muska made sure to be at the locker room and out within the 10 minutes given.

Remarkably, she managed just fine and was out of the locker room as others were just filing in and walked onto the field where her new homeroom teacher stood ominously. She could tell he was trying to stay neutral with a hint of intimidation but with years of dealing with Eras, Muska couldn’t find it in her to be scared. Really, they should meet each other, they’d probably enjoy each other's companionship.

A raised eyebrow in her direction asked the silent question and Muska huffed.

“They didn’t start moving until I was already down the hallway. They were filing in the locker room when I left.” She stated, amused.

Aizawa-sensei, god she felt like an anime wanna be weeb, just gave her a curt nod and went back to being entirely expressionless.

It was 3 minutes after the 10 minute allotted time when everyone made it onto the field and Aizawa lost his mask of indifference as he scowled. With a glare, he returned to lecture mode.

“Next time keep it within the time limit,” he stated, harshly, before continuing, “Today we’ll be having a physical assessment with quirks allowed.”

As expected by such an admittance, chaos reigned down on the class as everyone shouted questions. God, does Japan not do raised hands or somethin? Judging by the angry, quirked glare they got, which Muska noted cut off her connection to her quirk, they did do said raised hand trick.

“Quiet.”

Instantly, a suffocating hush covered the class. Seeing as Gravity Girls' question was the most offended sounding (something about orientation which Muska would happily skip with permission any day), along with the help of Robocop, their teacher addressed that first.

“UA offers teachers freedom to teach their classes however they want. This includes approval to skip unneeded ceremonies such as orientation. Question my authority again and I’ll expel you.”

After he blinked, floating hair and red eyes returned to normal. His gaze swept across the students and they landed on someone. He halfway ducked his head into his scarf thing and Muska could have sworn she saw a smirk.

“Bakugo,” He started, gaze burning holes into the student in question, “How far was your ball thrown in middle school?” The sentence was a question, but the deadpan and toneless delivery made it sound like a statement.

“67 meters.” Bakugo answered, sounding slightly irritated but obviously not wanting to test the teacher with being rebellious.

“Alright, take this ball and throw it, however I want you to use your quirk this time. Anything goes as long as you stay in the circle.” Aizawa stated simply, tossing the ball in Bakugo’s direction who caught it with ease.

A feral grin stretched onto Bakugo’s features as he stepped into the circle. Before he threw it though, he tilted his head in Muska’s direction and narrowed his eyes for a fraction of a second, before stretching his arm out. Oh he was challenging her.

Next thing he did was rear back and shout a loud “DIE!” before an explosion followed, propelling the ball forwards and into the distance. A beep sounded on the device Aizawa had fished out of somewhere.

“Here at UA we test your limits in going beyond, that's why we have these assessments. It’s only logical to get a base for where you are before we begin training.”

The class erupted in excited chatter. Words like “cool!” and “Fun” were tossed around as one student in particular called out about how “this would be so much fun!” Muska, however, has an energy quirk that also helps her witch abilities. Combine the two and she’s able to get a read on what people are thinking or feeling. The dark aura coming from Aizawa promised anything but fun.

“Fun? This sounds like fun to you? Fine, if you won’t take this seriously as the hero students in training you're supposed to be, then I’ll just have to make it serious. The points you get from the tests will be tallied at the end of the assessment. The person in last will be expelled.”

Aizawa’s cold gaze sent shivers up some of the students' spines. Outcries of unfairness were startled out of the students under their unforgiving teachers gaze. The man’s eye twitched in irritation. Muska could understand why though. Life was never fair. Eras’s past and their own made sure they understood that.

“Unfair? Life is unfair. Natural disasters are unfair. Villains are unfair. Life won’t give you fairness and you shouldn’t expect it. Your training to become heroes, if you can convince me you deserve to be, you're going to be going against the unfair. Now, Tokoyami, You're up.”

She was so going to rub that blondie's face into the dirt.

Tags:

@baguettehead

#bnha #mha #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfic #mha oc

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kkulmoon · 4 years ago

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SUNSET HEARTBEAT | KTH

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (f)

genre: fantasy au, hybrid au, sci-fi (?), fluff, angst

word count: 5.1k

rating: pg

a/n: ngl i feel like the beginning portion is a bit rusty, by rusty I mean it may feel a bit slow but pls give it a chance 🥺, I struggled to write that 😭. I am also tagging two very lovely people who were excited about this, hopefully you like it uwu @blossomkoo @inkedxclouds. This fic is part of Bangtan Scenery’s collab ‘April Showers Bring May Flowers’, make sure to check out everyone else’s entries!

warnings: implied sex, other than that none, except for heartbreak and slight purple patches here and there cause I was in the mood hehe

beta read by: lovely angie @scvkjin and amazing emi @bangtiddies 💕

synopsis: The time had come for the seventh sun to rise. For the seventh and last color in line to have its cycle. As one indigo supernova signified the coming of a purple nebula, you and Taehyung spent the remaining of your last day together creating something of your own. If it comes into fruition can only be known years in the future. A decade after you found someone unlike anyone. Truly one of a kind. Someone with a destiny they couldn’t outrun. It has been 10 years since the birth of a purple sun.

☁︎ masterlist ☁︎

It was in your final year of university, twelve years ago, that you met Taehyung. That same year you decided it was time to give up on the idea of becoming an astronomer. Quite frankly, you were just too dumb. However, it did not mean that you couldn't enjoy it all while living a life where pretending that you truly understood everything was your best bet, your only bet. They all say that interest and dedication trumps natural talent, right? For that same reason you decided to still attend as many astronomy lectures as possible even though you were studying to become an English teacher. You were always quiet and attentive so either the professors didn't notice you or let you be. Either way, what mattered was that you got to be there.

The first time the two of you interacted was a random weekday in April, near finals’ season. You were sitting at the back of the room as usual. The professor had handed out some papers to be passed back. A gold tinted hand with slender fingers, on which well groomed and shiny fingernails were present, reached out to you. You could all but wave away at the paper, trying your best to dismiss it. A pouty and confused expression was what you got as he continued to jab the paper onto your palm. You kept trying to mouth 'it's okay' but he was persistent. Not much of a purple characteristic but surely a sun one, now that you think about it. Finally you settled for a verbal response.

“I don't actually take this class, so really, i'm fine.”

He retreated his hand for a second, “Huh, don't we all wish that was true,” he said as he placed the paper on the small desk in front of you instead. “You've got this! We're almost done, hold in there.” You got a thumbs up before he turned back to focus on the class.

And every week from there on, whenever he got a short moment in class while the professor was writing on the board Taehyung would pester you with motivational notes filled with sayings. One particular somber April morning where you looked more tired than usual he even went as far as offering to help you with the class and your homework. You did your best to decline and yet that same night you got an email in your inbox that told you he obviously hadn't understood.

| Kim Taehyung Chapter 15: Helpful Resources, (hang on there, you got this!) |

While you didn't take the class and had no official obligations to learn anything, you were still interested in astronomy so you decided to have a look. The links did clear up some questions you had during the lecture. However, you didn't want him to be wasting time helping a lost cause. As much as you loved reading about astronomy and learning about it, you were slow and having him help you was more than unnecessary. The definition of futile work. You decided to send him a screenshot of the official classes you were attending from the university's student portal. You made sure to censor your grades. He truly didn't need to think that you were any dumber, all he needed was proof that you weren't taking the class.

But once again, Taehyung's sun qualities shone through. Where it would have been expected for the person to drop the subject and for the two of you to go back to your habitual behaviour, he thought otherwise. He responded, but this time instead of answers he had questions, none of which you felt like answering so you left him on read. Well, the email version of read. You opened the email, read it, thought about answering it but ultimately left the email thread to die on the read pile.

A week went by. No Taehyung and you felt relieved. At least that's how you think you felt, the sleep deprivation might have been playing tricks on you. As yet another day came, where the indigo sun let its rays shine, Taehyung thought it better for him to act as the sun. You hadn't seen him in class, but it just turned out he changed his usual spot. He tried to catch you before you left the room but your daydreaming self was quick on her feet. He had a quick talk with the professor before he hurried to you.

“Hey!” The sound of sandals echoed against the cement floor. “Hey! You there!"

You kept on walking, as far as you knew your name wasn’t you there'. Someone grumbled behind you only to exclaim after a short while.

“Y/N! Y/N! Hold up, I need to talk to you.” So in that case you were 'you there' and someone was Taehyung.

You stopped walking and turned around. You couldn’t help but cock your head at him. You had only seen Taehyung from the torso up while in class. His attire surprised you for some reason. Maybe because he was a STEM student and you had expected him to look more uptight. He looked like one of the people from the pot dorm down your hallway. Everything he wore was oversized except for the big knitted headband he had on now that he was outside. He looked devoid of colour with his muted clothes, but his cross body bag stood out with its patterned rainbow material.

"Yeah, what is it?" The quicker you could get it over with the better. However, Taehyung didn’t seem to agree with you on that aspect. He took his sweet time to fix the misplaced headband as you were left to witness the action. As much as you would have liked to categorise the scene as boring, it would have been a lie. His grey hair strands somehow managed to sparkle in the sun. They didn’t shine the normal way hair shines when light reflects on it. His hair literally sparkled as if it had recognised something familiar within the sun rays. But at the time you just thought you were being delusional or being tricked by the elements of his beauty.

"You didn't answer my email," he asked with curious eyes and an innocent tone. Right, that happened.

"Oh, that... uhm... I just haven't gotten the time to go through my email, things have been a bit hectic," you shot him a sympathetic smile.

Taehyung seemed like a pretty understanding person but he sure wasn’t dumb. You saw the way his tongue shifted to lick his lips as his teeth found their way onto his bottom lip. He trailed his hands on the strap of his bags as a pensive lip bite made adorned his features. Taehyung could have either been nervous or so irked by the bullshit you just spat at him that his body was reacting. Either way you felt bad for your white lie, but maybe not bad enough.

"It has been two weeks though," Taehyung stretches his back to stand straighter, "Also I take a chem class with Hoseok and you're always chatting in the gmail chat so..."

What do you say to that? You lied and the worst part of it all was that you were caught right in the same moment. Your mouth opened and closed continuously as a hot flush made itself present on your ears and neck. You made note of the fact that Taehyung seems sweet but he actually packed a punch and was definitely ready to confront you on your bullshit. Classic STEM student approach, just face things head on. Thinking back at it, that was yet another instance in which his sun characteristics took the wheel. The sun's rays don't budge for anything or anyone and they certainly don't cave in to make others feel comfortable.

"Uhmm... right. But I am here now, so ask away!" Maybe your fake enthusiasm could make up for your little lie. Taehyung gave you a wondering look as he calculated the pros and cons of continuing this conversation, You hoped the cons would win.

“Uhmm, alright, fair enough,” He shrugged and the pros must have won because he kept talking. “Why do you go to astronomy lessons if you don’t take the class?”

Why did he want to get into your personal business? You could have very well told him that it was none of his business, turned around and left. But that seemed a tad bit too rude for you and for some weird reason you didn't want him to think of you as any more rude that you had been.

Would you paint yourself as an overly ambitious student that just had a general love of learning or would you tell him the truth? If you were to lie again you were sure he wouldn't manage to uncover this lie.

"I just like astronomy and find the class interesting, on top of that I've got time so like why not?" You felt good about your response, so good you were happy that you had made the choice not to lie to him, again.

"Oh okay, then how come you didn't apply for the program?" Wow, this dude was really trying to uncover all of your flaws during the first real conversation you've had. He should have become a detective instead, his focused and analysing eyes made it very hard for you to lie and not feel any residual guilt. He would, without a doubt, catch you if you were to slip up again.

"Uhm... I just felt like education was the right place for me you know." You shook your head with squinted eyes in hopes that he would just get you. Which he obviously didn’t if you had to go off of the way his jaw jutted out to the side.

"Well, to put it simply, I am not the brightest of students and while actually taking the class would have been a nightmare, just being there and listening and learning at my own slow pace just makes me feel better about my shortcomings."

Taehyung's lips parted slightly. Okay, maybe you didn't have to give such a confession but he had been pushing and you wanted it to just end.

"Ohh, I see." Not the response you expected but how else do you respond to someone who said that they were too dumb to follow their dream. "But still my offer stands, if you need help trying to understand anything, feel free to tap my shoulder in class."

"But you changed seats to sit in the front."

"Nah not really, I was just bitter that you hadn't answered and didn't want to hurt you. From now on you'll see me at my usual spot in front of you."

The squeamish movement that accompanied the words ‘hurt you’ gave rise to a wondering look on your face. Hurt you? Why would he hurt you? Taehyung looked pretty harmless so you decided to not take his weird comment at face value. He most likely meant hurting you in a verbal sense.

The rest of the semester progressed in that same weird manner that characterised your relationship with Taehyung. A constant push and pull that kept being encouraged by your closest friends– Hoseok being the top player in the game. Inevitably, the more time you spent with him the more you warmed up to him. A month down the road the two of you decided to put a label on it. Or it was more so you who needed a verbal confirmation that you had somehow managed to catch someone's interest.

It took you awhile to reset the way you thought. Your wandering mind wasn’t only filled with personal affairs anymore, another individual had found their place in your day to day thoughts. All of a sudden being affectionate wasn't something you had to actively be, it was simply default mode whenever Taehyung crossed your field of vision.

For that reason alone, finals season was filled with movie nights, whispered love confessions, enough takeaways from different cuisines that you felt you were now ready to become a food critic. But the most precious instances of that time was the afternoons where Taehyung did his best to teach you astronomy and you being too lazy to listen despite your interest. You can't help but ask yourself if you would have been more attentive had you known what astronomy actually meant to him.

You had now been with Taehyung for one entire year. One year filled with diametrically opposite feelings. The good, the bad and the ugly. But ultimately all of it was left at the door the moment the two of you decided to reconcile despite the drawbacks. You were happy. The kind of happy that you don't recognise until it's gone. That can only be acknowledged in the midst of incoming fury. You had never in your life wished for the ability to predict the future. To see what happens after sunrise before it is manifested.

One particular day eleven years ago, you wished that astronomy was fake, that the sun wasn't real and that it never needed to rise or set, to be born or die. You wished the sun didn't exist, knowing very well that that would mean the most important person in your life wouldn't exist. But you could have dealt with that.

Longing for something you know you could have hurts far more than craving for the unknown. In the latter situation there's at least hope, that if you search hard and long enough you could find that thing you so deeply want. In the former, you know where that thing is, it's in fact right under your nose, or more accurately right over your head, where you can feel it at least a little bit every single day. Except this time you can't have it, no matter how hard you wish for it or how long you choose to wait. The whole scenario was like a twisted marshmallow test. Made to incite cravings with no intention of ever quenching them.

This all started a year following the start of your relationship with Taehyung. At that time you took notice to how hot he would get at the most unexpected of times. A behaviour that was usually reserved for when he was irritated or angry. It wasn’t only him that was hot but he radiated the kind of heat reserved for an extremely sunny summer’s day.

You overlooked those instances and decided not to pay them too much mind. It could just be you having the extreme hots from him. However on a particular night, you just couldn’t bring yourself to stay in bed with Taehyung. The sheets were drenched and the windows had fogged up. You had to leave and find refuge in your living room sleeping right by a fan.

The coming morning you woke up to breakfast on the table and right beside it there was a thick pocket sized book. The Book Of Suns. That was the white title that was engraved onto the black cover. Taehyung was nowhere to be found but his belongings were still in your room so you assumed he had gone for his morning walk.

You had to make a choice between the two. Would you read the book first or you would eat breakfast first? You knew that whatever you were about to find out would most likely curb your appetite. Your hand glided against the rough cover of the book.

Wouldn't it be better to read it now, just in case something made you extremely sad? That way you could cry before he got back home. Whatever it was that you were about to find out was very important to him, important enough that he wanted you to form your own opinion of it in peace. He wanted in no way for his presence to taint your reaction towards the truth that he had been hiding. Or as he thought protecting you from.

You sat down by the table, knees to your chest as you brought the book onto your hands. 'The Book Of Suns' was, as you realised after reading it, just that, a book about suns, in particular Taehyung’s sun lineage. It was a story about your world’s suns, the rainbow sun family. A fact unknown to you before that very moment. You were surprised by your behaviour, you weren’t exactly known for having calm reactions. It must have been Taehyung’s scent on the sweater you wore. It tickled your nose and calmed your senses. The book served as a track record for the next person in line to become the sun. It had seven chapters. Beside each chapter title in the contents page there were small vertical lines. The first six suns had five lines while the last had four. Taehyung must be purple sun. You read silently or more so you attempted to read silently, the deep breaths you were taking in effort to digest everything couldn't be contained.

After a continuous hour of reading you got to what was perhaps the most interesting chapter. Where do the dead suns go? And most importantly what do the suns that have yet to be born stay? You were cautious about continuing your reading. What if you found out that Taehyung was in fact just the ghost of someone that didn't actually exist? Or worse what if Taehyung would cease to exist?

Fear curbed your initiative to let your eyes continue their dance on the page. But fear also did its job in fixating your attention on the slightly faded black letters present on the off-white pages. Fear of the unknown is always worse than that of the known.

Deep in the forest, there was the garden of suns. Every time a sun died and resurrected as a human, their statue appeared in the garden, where their sun soul was kept, only to vanish on the day of their sun birth. In the middle of the pages there was a picture, at the back of it you could read Taehyung’s harsh handwriting ‘The garden of suns -15/07/39’. He had been there four days ago.

The statues of the first five suns were covered with vibrant collared moss equivalent of their sun pigment. The sixth and seventh sun’s statues were only slightly visible in the photograph. They seemed to be in an intermediary phase. Not quite gone, yet not quite there. It was hard to figure out whether they were emerging or vanishing. That’s until you remembered the previous week’s news report. A supernova was on its way and scientists believed it would most likely occur near the end of next year.

The indigo sun is near its death, and a purple sun is nearing its ascent.

Taehyung’s statue was the one vanishing. His sun soul was ready to find its owner and ascend to its rightful place amongst the other stars. Just as you were about to continue reading, ready to delve into how this whole sun birth situation went about, the sound of metal clashing against metal resounded in the dead silence. Clinging keys and heavy steps entered the apartment.

No 'hello' or 'glad to see you're finally awake'. But could you blame him? It would have been weird to act as if it was like any other of your usual mornings. You wished you had mustered up the strength to get off the chair and go greet him at the entrance. In your mind you did that but in reality you stayed rooted right where you were, back squeezed into the corner between the table and chair.

Taehyung walked in to lean against the door frame that lead into the kitchen. He looked exhausted. Dark under eye bags decorated weary eyes. You thought you could hear a tentative squeak come out of his mouth. Maybe you should've said something, because he looked like he was hurting and trying to find the appropriate words to start a conversation he knew would only end with heartache and tears. You thought that talking about the small steps he made outside was a good way to segue into talking about the biggest step he would take in his life. One that he could unfortunately not walk back on.

"How was your walk?" You managed to ask before Taehyung walked past the kitchen and into the bedroom. He stopped midway, standing in the living room, where sun rays illuminated his surroundings. You couldn't help but think that it was very fitting for him to become a sun. The rays may have been bright and hot but he was the only one able to make you feel as hot as the sun and make your smile shine brighter than the biggest star. He was already a sun. Your sun. Why did he need to leave and become everyone's sun as well?

"Pretty good, helped me wake up," he said and sat down on the bean bag present beside him. You put the book down on the dining table just to look back at him from your seat. You were just there, in the moment, sitting down and doing your best to have an internal conversation. Both of you knew that words would hurt too much. And they surely couldn't bear the complete weight of what your current predicament meant neither could they have illustrated the joint pain that was shared between two beating hearts.

Your conversation might have been dead but the emotion was very much alive. You stood up from your seat, Taehyung's knitted sweater fell back down to caress your thighs. The walk to the beanbag felt like an eternity, not because it was but because you made it so. You had felt his sour and vigilant mood and you knew that being playful at that moment was your best bet. You tiptoed back and forth all the way to the beanbag as the sweater shifted here and there to reveal skin that was highlighted blue by the sun.

He was upset but he couldn't manage to keep his mouth set. His lips would stretch and unstretch as small playful wiggles played at the tip of his mouth. Finally you had found your way to the bean bag. You stood tall as your body cast a shadow over his. You placed a foot on the bean bag as the material sunk under your weight and you found your place on his lap.

Right there, that's the kind of pat in the back that Taehyung gave you as his arms enveloped your slouching form. You snuggled your head deep into the crook of his neck and inhaled all the way in. If he was really gonna be leaving you, you needed to make sure you could imprint the scent and feel of his flesh right onto yours.

You sat there, quiet, with synchronised breaths yet fighting thoughts. How in the heck were you supposed to manage this? Him just being gone? Sure, you had a year left before it was officially time, but a year is far from a lifetime, what he had promised you.

"You are sure you don't want to talk about it?" Long hand strokes continue to comfort your back. You move your buried head side to side, groaning in response. Alright is all he said. Things were far from alright.

While on that morning you decided not to talk further on the topic, the coming months were filled with explorative trips to the Garden of Suns, where you would spend hours listening to Taehyung tell you about the stories of him and his sun brothers. He talked about being particularly close to the blue sun.

"It's just because he literally has no filter," he said gazing longingly at the statue covered with flashy blue moss.

"Is that like, dangerous?"

"Well yeah for you, but I am a sun remember." He turned around on the grass to face your way.

"And that's probably why I orbit around you." The huge grin that found its ways to your face was uncontrollable and contagious as Taehyung couldn’t help but snicker at your corny joke.

Just like that, your months together flew by until it was finally d-day. You hoped that waking up wouldn't be a necessity but Taehyung refused to let you sleep through it. He refused to let you think that it was all a dream. Getting yourself off the bed and into the shower felt like an endless task. One that he was patient enough to help you with. In hindsight you feel bad about having put him through that on such a significant day. He was, most likely, having a harder time dealing with his destiny than you were. That day was one to remember, the most vivid of them all, the most cherished of them all yet the most sad of them all.

All of that happened in the past and you were currently in an unsure present. The indigo sun had faced its fate, to be extinguished in an equally coloured supernova that would give rise to the last one in line, a purple sun. One day they would all be back to the complete cycle. A day where you wouldn't be present.

It has been ten years since Taehyung became a sun. You could talk to him, well, not really but you could see him and most importantly feel him. It had been a decade since you asked him to leave you something to remember him by, a part of him, a living one. On the night of Taehyung’s sun birth he decided to take you up on the offer. Cuddled up, in each other’s arms that’s how the day progressed. While usually persistent yet gentle, that night Taehyung felt it was appropriate and maybe in fact vital for him let his sun like ferocity be expressed. How else could you have understood the intensity of his feelings, a muddy mix of grief and love. The remains of that one last heated night were left for you to admire and cherish.

You thought you would manage to stay up the entire night to witness the purple sun birth but Taehyung’s warmth, forehead kisses and soft singing lulled you to sleep before you could realise it.

Nothing was felt. No heat, no cold. Nothing was seen. No light, no spark. Taehyung was gone into the void in the same effortless way he entered your life. You’ve now been waiting over a decade to know if the fruits of that night would come into fruition. Conception can only happen when eclipses take place. Eclipses happen every 126 months. It has been 10 years. Half a year is left.

That half year could not have passed at a slower pace. It was a Thursday, yet another tiring day at school. You loved kids but you were drained of energy. You couldn't wait for time to pass by so that you could leave. It was Thursday, which meant you could watch the sunset to its complete end without being bothered. It was also Thursday, the day after you got your first ultrasound. Taehyung may have not been there but that didn't mean you couldn't share the remaining of your waking hours with him, whenever you thought it was possible. You looked out of the window from your classroom to see purple hues in the sky as the sun said goodbye to leave place to another night.

The clouds thought otherwise, for some reason they always felt the need to be there to cloud his presence. What right did they have to cover up his tint? If it weren’t for them you would have been able to bask in his purple light, let it colour you bare as your feelings went from blank to purple butterflies that made you lose sight as tears formed in your eyes.

So you did what any sensible person still in love would have done. As soon as the clock struck 4 pm you ran to catch the train that would take you from skyscraper views to wide flower fields. It took the train two hours. You did your best to enjoy the way he set along the ride. Once you arrived you were left with two entire hours to enjoy the last of him and say goodbye to Taehyung and hello to the darkness.

During that time you reached into Taehyung's patterned cross body bag. You truly hated it but it was his so you kept it. You pulled out the ultrasound picture and raised it to the little part of sun that was still left. You didn't actually think that he would, through some weird magical way, actually be able to see it. It was more so something to calm your conscience. But most importantly, it presented you with the opportunity to capture an unusual family picture. It was you, the ultrasound, your baby bump and the purple sunset all in one picture. One that had found its rightful place on your bedside table.

Years unmasked themselves to reveal the growth of your child. One that grew to inherit the intensity of her father. Every now and then you made sure to let her know about him. As young as she was she couldn't truly understand it all, but as a child your love story was something that was within imaginable grounds. So you took advantage of that and taught her all you could about him. Maybe if you started early she could manage to develop past your less refined genes with regards to learning.

You took your time to tell her all that she wished to know and all that you wished to share. Sugarcoating to the maximum, cause that’s what Taehyung would do, but still making sure to keep a coherent timeline. One specific day you are unable to answer her question.

"Wh–why did dad break the promish?"

You had to fight long and hard with your tear ducts. Never had you cried in front her and you didn't intend to do it anytime soon.

In fact in one way or the other, Taehyung hadn't lied about keeping his promise. He had omitted some important specifics but he hadn't completely been untruthful. He said a lifetime and he would give you a lifetime. It just happened to be one where he wasn't always there, present by your side.

However he would always get up to see you rise, and always say goodbye as he sets down to give place for lonely nights. And on all of those goodbyes unlike the one where he left you for the first and last time, you could swear that in bed with your child pressed to your chest, you could feel and hear his sunset heartbeat as clear and strong as the rays of a certain purple sun, your only one. Sun rays filled with his most cherished truth:

‘I will turn purple when i miss you and to say i love you’.

Posted: May 28, 2020

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lilikags · 4 years ago

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Serendipity (Kageyama Tobio)

ೃ‧₊› a b o u t t h i s p o s t° ➮ Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x reader ➮ Oneshot ➮ Tags: college au, fluff ➮ Word Count: 2106

Serendipity- finding something without looking for it

College- high school was one thing, but college was another. It’s not like one or the other would be harder; well, it all depended on the person. For some people, college was much easier. For others, harder. In either case, it was a different experience, to say the least. You were nervous about that, and you hoped you could survive this semester without screwing up. Not knowing is scary, people would say, and that would describe your situation. Your cousins told you that college was fine and you’d survive just fine, but hearing it from someone else and actually experiencing it was something else.

It was still kind of early in the morning; It was just around 8:45; you arrived at your English lecture hall a bit early. You settled in the back somewhere, since the front was already semi-filled with some clusters of friends who were chatting away. You missed your friends- they had gone to different colleges than you, and all of you respected your individual reasons for going to the college they decided to go to. You all still talked, but being in different colleges did loosen the tight bond you had formed in high school just a little. It just wasn’t being the same- attending different schools. Nonetheless, there was nothing you could do about it. You figured you should probably make some friends, but perhaps you should get yourself settled first.

Just as class was about to start, a young man your age sat in the seat next to you, all sweaty from running, you assumed. As the professor started his lesson, he stared at his empty document, with a confused expression on his face. He had absolutely nothing typed, while you had almost a full page down. You sort of watched him as the lesson went on, and as it went on, the more and more you felt bad for him.

“Uhm- if you want, you could copy my notes,” you offered, turning the laptop a little towards him so he could see a little better. He muttered a “thanks” and started copying your notes down, word for word. The way he typed was cute; he fumbled with his hands a little. While they looked really taken care of, his typing skills weren’t that great. It was kinda cute- the way he typed.

Before long, midterms rolled around. You had made a couple of friends, not too many, but the three of you made a good duo. Your high school group chat kinda died, and it only came alive when it was someone’s birthday or it was some holiday or something absolutely wonderful happened. You actually became friends with the guy who sat next to you in English; you found out his name was Kageyama and he played volleyball. You never had the time to attend his games, but you promised you’d attend whenever you could.

You and the friends you made this year often studied together, either at the library or at one of your apartments. It was during the afternoon, and it was actually great. You worked on quizzing each other on the concepts and material, and you explained to each other something if you didn’t understand. You were all in the same major, so it was really convenient that you got to help each other with the assignments as well. When no one understood what was happening, you’d play rock-paper-scissors and whoever lost had to email the professor for an explanation.

With studying all the time, you felt that you were on a great track to doing well on the midterms. From everyone else’s experience, cramming was not a good idea and you decided, well, not to do that, which you were quite proud of. Cramming was something most people, including you, did in high school and got away with, but this time, things are different, so you were going to do things differently.

“Uhm, (y/n)-san, could you teach me English for the midterms?” you heard Kageyama ask, after the lecture had ended. There was about a week to the midterms, and since today was supposed to be a free day and you didn’t have much planned, you accepted, “Sure!”

“Are you failing any subjects besides English right now?” you asked, dead serious.

“Uh-” Kageyama turned to the side, “Math…” You nodded slowly. “History…” You nodded again, as he went on with the subjects he was failing. You were barely surprised; he definitely wasn’t an academic person. You knew he was smart; he was great at reading people and distance between objects, but you definitely knew he wasn’t as good at school. Sighing, you offered to help him study for those subjects too- perhaps you dreaded studying on your own for your own midterms and would rather do just about anything else, or maybe you were just feeling really nice.

“What…” he stares at the next page.

“Kageyama, you’re literally giving up the moment the next topic comes up.” “Uhhhhh…”

“It means that he and his men escaped the cyclops, but then he taunted the cyclops who cursed them afterwards.” Kageyama scratched his head.

“Odysseus the main character and his soldiers escaped the cave, but then he yelled basically ‘Haha, loser!’ to the cyclops, so the cyclops got mad and cursed them.” “OHHHH.”

It went on for a very long time, and it was both tiring and interesting at the same time. You got to see Kageyama with like 15 different confused expressions, which was pretty funny. Though, you did have to explain it twice a lot of the time, in two different ways, just to get him to process it. It was like the first time, his brain almost refused to acknowledge it, and the second time, he got it as soon as he got a revelation- and no, there was absolutely nothing wrong with either of the explanations.

In any outcome, this was good for you too, since you got to think about and analyze the topics yourself, making sure you knew them to the smallest details and figuring out stuff as you went so you could teach him about it. After this, you felt like a super tutor- being able to tutor Kageyama just does that to people.

When you got your midterm scores, the result wasn’t shocking, nor exactly what you expected. Nonetheless, it was still a good enough score for you, and you were satisfied. You sighed in relief; at least you didn’t do bad and it wasn’t a bad start to your college life. As the stress from the exams faded, you decided you deserved a day off. Kageyama had a game today, and so you decided to watch it. It was about to start as soon as you arrived, and you got a pretty decent seat with a good view of the Adler’s side of the court. You instantly noticed Kageyama, with definitely a different aura than the one you knew. The perplexed airhead was suddenly a confident master of the court, and it definitely was impressive.

You didn’t know too much about volleyball, besides Kageyama’s usually incoherent ramblings about the sport, so as someone who had no idea how things worked, you were amazed by everyone’s skill. You were amazed at how fast the ball zoomed from one side to the other, the sound it made when it forcefully slammed onto the floor, when the crowds cheered so dynamically; it enchanted you. You never knew how enjoyable it was to watch a volleyball game- and you were glad to see this.

“Oh my god Kageyama!” you waved out to him as he was leaving. “You were so cool out there!” “Oh, t-thanks,” he replied.

“The ball zoomed super fast all the time- I had a hard time keeping up with it! I’m really amazed at how you were able to get it to your teammates so well. Well, I guess you are a top player!” you giggled. “Oh, by the way, how did you do on your midterms?”

“Oh, I uh didn’t check it yet.”

“Then go check it now bakageayma.”

“I- okay.”

He opened his phone and fumbled around with it; he still wasn’t the fastest at keeping up with some technology. That was fine though; it was kind of quirky and cute to you. You looked along with him, curious of what he got. He didn’t mind though; he knew that you knew exactly how well he knew the material.

“A-” he froze. You froze.

“I- I passed…” he stared blankly at the C grade displayed on the screen.

“... grats…”

It wasn’t long before Finals came around, and you and everyone else was studying like nuts. Meanwhile, Kageyama was more focused on volleyball.

“Hey Kags don’t you think you should be studying for finals-”

“Finals-” he froze.

“Don’t tell me you forgot.”

He looked away, and you sighed.

One week to finals.

“Okay, Mr. Kageyama Tobio, I’m going to make sure you don’t fail your classes. And I mean it.” you told him, the two of you at your apartment. You took this opportunity to strengthen your knowledge of the subject, while also allowing him to pass- if he didn’t, who knows what would happen to him. You didn’t want to know, nor did he. (Though one could probably speculate.) The two of you set to work, you quizzing him on the topics and looking at him seriously, telling him, “Listen to me. Look me in the eyes. The formula for…”

When the results for finals came around, you were the most nervous you’ve been all year- though it’s only been a semester. You fidgeted the entire day, looking at your scores as soon as you could; the refresh button probably broke. You passed with a score you would show your parents, and you were very proud of that. Perhaps tutoring Kageyama helped you understand so much better. Happy with your scores, you went to inquire how Kageyama did.

Y/N: hey kags how’d you do on finals?

Kageyama Tobio: Huh- oh I didn’t check uh-

Y/N: Pfffft how’d you forget- was your mind filled with just volleyball again?

Y/N: rhetorical question you literally don’t need to answer the question lol

Kageyama Tobio: Y/N…

Y/N: yes?

Kageyama Tobio: YOU’RE A GENIUS I GOT A B.

Y/N: whoohooooo let’s hold a partyyyyyyyyyy

Y/N: yes i’m so smart i even got you to get a B let’s goooooooooooooooooooo

Three semesters. And another three years. That’s how much longer you went through college. That was pretty normal, but you wouldn’t say you had a normal college life. Well, anyone could say that, but being close to one of the most popular volleyball players in the entire country really put you in a spot. Kageyama had even gotten a following over his time with the Adlers, and as closest friend outside of volleyball, the entire fanclub had their eyes on you. You had to say that Kageyama was excellent at not minding the fanclub- even to the point where he almost forgot it existed sometimes. Though, you were the one who had to tell them when they went too far and had to stop at a line. They definitely didn’t listen to you but to Kageyama when he told them, with his glaring face, to stop. (It was definitely scary, you decided you did not want to be on the receiving end of the glare)

Anywho, during that time, you and Kageyama were study buddies. Well, not really, considering the fact that you were teaching him the material and he was learning it. You were more like a tutor per say, rather than a study buddy. Honestly you could’ve charged money for that and you bet he would be paying, but you weren’t going to do that to him; that was just mean, honestly. Kageyama would always tell you that if you did bad, you didn’t do worse than him, so it was alright.

It was the day of graduation, the day you had been waiting for for years of schooling, but there were its ups and downs to it. On any occasion though, it was a day to be celebrated, and you were happy. After the sort of boring ceremony, you went to find Kageyama, who was probably standing awkwardly. He wasn’t hard to find; he was one of the taller people in the vicinity.

“Hey Kags, grats on graduating! You actually passed.” “You too,” he said, looking away from you. “Well, uh-”

“Yeah?”

“Y/N!”

“Yes, I’m listening.”

“Will- will you go out wit- with me?”

“Sure, Tobio.” you giggled.

『••✎••』 Extra Info * ˚ ✦ ⇢ If you would like to read some of my other works, find them here! * ˚ ✦ ⇢ Taglist: @serowotonin @luna-la-ley // send me an ask if you would like to be added!

A/N: LMAO THIS TOOK FOREVER i”ll be working on either the next ch of puppet queen or a diluc x reader i decided i’m doing

#haikyuu x reader #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #lili kags #kageyama tobio x reader #fluff

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lalaytight · 3 years ago

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Nct Dream as University Students

-Information Prior to Reading-

Clearing - When applying to University after the official date of the A level results, national results, the clearing section opens which allows people who did not get the required grades or have changed their mind in term of courses, apply to university and get a spot.

Dissertation - he final project completed in the last year of University, is normally around one set topic and makes up a good chunk of the final grade awarded at the end of the course.

Pre's - Stands for Pre Drinks a social event where alcohol is consumed prior to going to the clubs.

Masters- A second degree normally 12-18 months long in addition to the bachelors degree when you first graduate. Normally more specific than the first degree.

Gap Year- A year taken between finishing up school and going off to university, normally spent either saving for university or more commonly travelling the world and 'finding' yourself in a third world country on a beaten path.

Pull/ going on the pull- The act of trying to get a date or take someone home with you whilst on a night out in the clubs/ pubs. Can be either successful or unsuccessful but is a great past time.

Tactical chunder- The act of throwing up whilst drunk in order to sober yourself or remove some of the alcohol from your body. Is often done to make room for more alcohol.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption

Mark Lee

Mark is currently a second year university student studying Art history. His entrance story to university was not easy nor common, at first he took a gap year working out just what he wanted to do with himself for the rest of his life. About halfway through this gap year he decided university was not for him and he wanted to take a gap life rather than just a gap year. However, his mother was not impressed and insisted he went to university. Therefore, he entered as an Art History student but did not put any effort in resorting in him having to retake his first year of university. As his parents told him that if he dropped out that he must have a full time job in place before doing so and Mark was too lazy to find a job.

Mark is part of the university football, soccer, team. He wasn't a first pick for the club and he is mainly kept as a reserve for the team. It's not that he isn't a team player, rather the opposite and his club members absolutely love him as he's their biggest hype man. They always want him on their society nights out but they just don't want him playing. Mark might be a team player and somewhat well coordinated but he isn't the best under the pressure of the game and can get overwhelmed by the large groups of players he has to go up against.

After his first year plunder where he was forced to retake the year considering he passed none of the assignments or exams, Mark got his act together. He is now one of the hardest working members of the class trying to constantly prove to himself and his lecturers that he can in fact do it. When it comes to group projects he generally takes on the role of the person trying to convince the others to do the work. However, when this is undoubtedly unsuccessful he will then pull his weight to the max and complete the work that was missing from the other project members. The epitome of a stressed bunny at all times whilst trying to do uni work.

Mark is a terrible lightweight who attempts to keep up with his friendship group, who are all younger than him. And he is not very successful at it, he will only drink liquor partially because its a ploy to get him drunk faster and because his stomach cannot stand anything yeasty in terms of alcohol. He is fully under the belief that apple sours is a very strong drink. When drunk Mark seems more than willing to share his insane knowledge of Justin Bieber songs, he knows nearly the entire discography it would seem though not in the right key, Haechan has still to find a song he doesn't know the words to yet but the younger man has made it his mission to do so. Mark will get chatting to the prettiest person in the room accidentally whilst drunk and the others are definitely jealous of him especially when said person not only offers to help Mark back to his room and into bed but will also give Mark their number before leaving.

Huang Renjun

Contrary to popular belief Renjun is not an arts student, though he throughly enjoys the subject and can be seen frequently floating around outside the building he is in fact a classics student. No nobody knows what that means and Renjun is more than likely to study a masters on top so he can actually do something with his degree, maybe teaching though he's not a fan of small children.

Renjun is not part of a society but he is well known on the campus. He is considered two things firstly the one kid who spends way too much time around the art building considering none of his lectures occur there. He lurks with the intent to be able to sneak his way into the building and this is where he is not directly known but known for. This is because he steals from the department to supply his own personal art supply. He has a mission to never pay for his own supplies again he will only use the university's. To do this he tries to sneak in using a different unsuspecting person's swipe card access as this doesn't bring anything suspicious to him or another person. Hence the lurking but he tries to play it off that he's waiting for his partner though tends to walk off with a different person each time the security guards overly catch him.

In terms of being in class, Renjun is that one quiet student. Considering the register is done by tapping yourself in on the wall and not physically answering your name, it is more than likely you won't hear him speak for weeks on end. It's also like this in group projects as he doesn't tend to turn up to group meetings preferring to email you instead or when he does he still remains quiet. The one other noticeable thing about Renjun in class is that he goes all out in terms of appearance. He has never attended a lecture, seminar or meeting in jogging bottoms and his fit is normally very much on trend. He even went through a little time period where he was dressed like an eboy but realised he suited the softer colours much better and swapped it out for the normal yellows and oranges he is more commonly known to wear.

Just like Mark, Renjun is a pretty big lightweight. He is the first to vomit throughout the night and will continue to do so throughout the night. But he tends to pretend or try to convince the others that he is actually much more sober than he actually is. It doesn't go swimmingly well, as they coin onto the fact that every time he disappears it's to the toilet to vomit. In fact he almost accidentally locks himself in one of the stalls in the mens toilet and has to be rescued by one of the other boys in order to get out. Will try to brush it off as that he wasn't that drunk in the first place but is not doing a very good job about it. In terms of trying to pull on a night out Renjun tends to go for the friend of the poor person Jaemin is flirting with non stop. The two make rather great sidemen even though its not always on purpose.

Lee Jeno

Jeno studies architecture which is actually a really long degree. But in order for him not to appear as nerdy as he is, he tells everyone he is studying something to do with sports. Normally going for sports psychiatry as his go to or back up degree only his housemates, or closest, friends know what he is actually studying. He is convinced by telling everyone he studies Architecture that it will ruin the image he has so carefully crafted for himself.

Jeno is a rugby player and proud of it. He tends to wear it with pride like it is a personality trait and can often be seen walking around the University City in his rugby jumper with his initials and nickname plastered on in the most obnoxious font. Though he joined the sports society for the game he very quickly fell in love with the social aspect to the society as well. He can always be seen on a rugby boys night out going full out for whatever theme they have chosen for the night sometimes getting the other boys to help him with the makeup for some of the different costumes he wears. He gets really excited when its his turn to sing the dick song around the hughstreet chanting his own made up verse about his own sexual endeavours despite being completely unexperienced.

Jeno is a lazy student. He tends to do the bare minimal for everything related to the degree. This includes actual attendance, if he attends, which he often tends not to do, you can bet the clothes he was in was the exact same outfit he wore the week before. Most of the time he is found back at his uni accommodation just chilling with his other housemates when they ask him why he's at home and not at uni his go to response is 'I just couldn't be bothered to walk there so I decided to stay home' or 'I slept through my alarm and decided to take a self care day'. Even if his self care day had literally been the day beforehand. However, despite his lack of effort in actually producing work, especially in group projects, its hard for anybody to get overly mad at him considering he normally brings out the big guns and will get up to present the project making most of it up considering he did not do any of the research or work. When he actually wants to get work done you can only find him on the silent floor of the library hidden in one of those single person cubby holes right at the back. He is the kind of person to hiss, maybe even bark, at someone if they made noise around his quiet space.

On a night out Jeno is that one drunk who likes to bring out his talent at 'playing' the guitar. Like most people the one song he actually knows how to play is Oasis 'Wonderwall' and he will play this multiple times during the night. The only way to stop him doing this is to let him be completely in charge of the music for the night and therefore a lot of grime music is played throughout the evening only being interrupted by the odd song one of the other boys has managed to sneak onto the playlist. Is the best at holding their alcohol but does take a tactical chunder right before going to bed in order to reduce the banging hangover he knows he's going to have in the morning. When the boys are playing games whilst at pres Jeno is the first to flake out and give up on the game never have I ever considering he has done nothing and feels like he is the only one not drinking and doesn't find the game fun.

Lee Donghyuck/ Haechan

Haechan studies theatre studies. No surprise there as he has a talent for the arts, he is a well versed triple threat and is thought to be an actual threat to his other students or as he likes to call them his competitors. He is one of those who you cannot be sure whether he took the degree because he wanted to study what he was so good at or because he enjoyed the drama between the students on the course more. Considering there was so much between the department. He knows everything going on, exactly who's sleeping with who. You want to know the tea he's got it.

As a part of his course Haechan is very often involved in the shows the university puts on every semester. Yes all three of them, and he's pressed when they actually cast a female to play the female lead. He's also joined the music society and is a proud treasurer. He is in charge of how the club spends their money and doesn't hesitate to put most of their budget aside for the recruitment events in September and following bar crawls. The society has gained many members due to the legendary parties they throw curtesy of the budgeting planning Haechan performs.

Haechan is very friendly with nearly everyone in his tutor group. He's not shy to introduce himself to others and this has granted him a very nice reputation around the class. It's worked in his favour as everyone has deemed him someone safe to tell their stories and feelings to, well nearly everyone, and therefore he is the gossip queen. He promises to keep your secrets but his entire set of roommates know everything by the end of the day. He's a hard worker, extremely hard worker and this shows in his work as he constantly remains at the top of his class. He stays late all the time to work and books out the many rooms in his building over the weekend to work. His dissertation out of all the boys was probably one of the best, because he actually cared for the subject he was writing about.

At a Pre's Haechan is the one who hacks the playlist. He loves to add just a little bit of Bieber to every playlist, it's a guilty pleasure. But Jeno never seems truly angry at him, a little miffed that his password keeps getting guessed but other than that the hacking's allowed. Haechan is also the one to bring out the drinking games first. He's a sucker for any card based drinking game but will totally come up with his own rule set and spend most of the time arguing with anyone trying to tell him that the rules are incorrect. By the time they've hit the club he's had a cheeky little vomit on the side of the path only to continue to laugh it off. Alcohol just makes him even more daring than he was anyways so out comes the jester. The sudden courage to do anything when drunk is a blessing and a curse. He is the only one up to climbing over the stools to release a trapped Renjun but he is also always up to dancing on the tables pint in hand. The most reluctant to leave the club. And the one pulling when he really doesn't want to. He's there to party not to get numbers. At the end of the night he's gained like 5 snapchats he never intends to use.

Na Jaemin

Jaemin studies English Literature. He was given two options, start work or go to university. And Jaemin's too pretty to be working so university it was. In his opinion. He entered university, barely, but he got the grades he needed irregardless. And after all who cares what A level's you hold when you have a degree?

Jaemin isn't in any society's or on any sports teams. He doesn't care about university that much to get involved. What he is at is every single student night held by the student union. He's always there right in the centre of the room having the time of his life and chucking the empty cups onto the floor.

Jaemin's a lazy student in the way that he attends university because he doesn't want his attendance to plummet but he has no intent to involve himself in the lectures. Barely completes his coursework and he once tried to pay a ghost writer to write his essay. He can always be found sat at the back of the lecture hall sitting in a strange silence alone. He's dressed to the nines and looks completely at peace air pods in and Netflix show playing. He doesn't have to worry about getting notes he'll just flirt his way into getting someone to send them to him. The official crush of the English Lit course, but he's just a little too far away for comfort. He does not participate in group work, he's always sending the work but it never arrives. You'll have to do his part as well and he'll get the same grades the rest of the group does. Because even when you send those sheets in about what everyone did, the lecturers don't read them or care and he gets away with it.

Jaemin has one intention on a night out to pull. But he isn't looking just for a casual relationship. He's determined to find the one whilst at uni. He's looking for his other half. And he'll use any of the other guys to help him pull. Anyone and everyone is his wingman. Except Jisung who's the house baby and he can't ever see dating. Jaemin can hold his alcohol pretty well, he's had enough practice. He's always the one to suggest shots on a night out. And he always picks a Jaegar bomb. To the point where nobody in the house can smell Jaeger without getting the urge to vomit.

Zhong Chenle

A boy from a well off background studying economics. Couldn't get more cliche. But the truth is that Chenle loves the subject he picked it not because it was a typical rich boy thing to do, but because it generally interested him. He worked hard to get into university. But he won't tell anyone. If anyone asks he just laughs it off with a shrug of his shoulder as to query what else he would he do?

Chenle joined the music society Haechan is the treasurer of. And he's gunning for Haechan's chair when the older guy leaves university. He loves the society and everything they do, from the self produced songs to the nights out and the editing of self made music videos. But this isn't the only club he's a part of, he's joined the university extreme Frisbee sports team. He joined as a joke back in first year but he felt almost guilty just quitting. So here he is still part of the team. But hey they get to go to varsity each year and he gets to parade around in his sports uniform. And its a hit with the ladies.

In class, Chenle is one of the most active participants. He loves his subject, loves his study and he rather enjoys arguing with students and professors alike. It has lead to a rather sour view of him from many of the students. But he has his solid core of friends and couldn't care about what the others think. What he does care about is the way one of the lecturers teach and his goal is to drive them to insanity so that they quit. After all who makes group work a necessity in every single seminar. Evil people. And he's here to rid the university of evil lecturers. No matter what it takes. Despite his hate for the obscene amount of group work, he's an active participant and always willing to give the presentation working for many of his more shy classmates. But he will drag out the presentation what was supposed to be five minutes is more like 20 and full of jokes and one liners which mean you never forget what he was talking about. Even if it was completely down the wrong track.

Chenle is a great mixologist at a pre's. He'll make anyone a drink. And its strong, pungent and straight to the point. You want to get drunk, he's your man. He'll help you take a tactical chunder before you leave for the club as well. But he's also ridiculously responsible and won't let you get black out drunk in his own house. He knows when you've hit your limit and will totally supply you with water he pretends is gin so you can sober up slightly. Toaster is also always on to provide those carbs you need so desperately if you've gone overboard too fast. He's also the one who demands you go for food once you've left the club. Whilst in the club he's down for anything. Mariah Carey, break up songs or heavy metal he's here for it all. Finger guns at the ready he's going full out. Will draw the room's attention and unsuspecting targets, namingly Jisung, onto the dance floor with him.

Park Jisung

A humanities guy through and through, Jisung studies History. Another not ashamed of the course he's studying, Jisung will happily tell anyone that he's studying history. He'll also tell anyone that History was the only subject he passed well and it was just fate. He came in through clearing but he'll tell you the story of how desperate the university was to have him that they didn't care about the U he got in Maths.

Jisung is an active participant in the shows the university puts on each semester. He doesn't take to the front of the stage but rather works in the back. He's a sound technician and a rather good one. He can mix and sort out the mic's levels like nobody else. And if he turns up Haechan's mic when he's got a solo he'll always say his finger slipped. And he's charming enough to get away with it, every single time.

Jisung loves history, but he hates participation. If he could join every single lecture and seminar from the comfort of his bedroom he would. But alas he cannot, lecturers actually want you to attend. So begrudgingly he does make his way in for scheduled lessons. But he's sat in the very back corner where its so dark nobody can see him there. He listens and takes notes but if a questions asked to the class he'll slump down into his chair to avoid being seen to be asked the question. In terms of working with others this is also not something he wants to do. Jisung already has his friends, his housemates, he doesn't need any more. And therefore, he never ever makes any of the meetings set up by the group. He's active as much as he physically has to be in the group chat but that's all. He does however, send his piece of the work in super early. So there's a silver lining to his complete and utter reluctancy to work with others. Even if he does leave the group feeling as though he's a bit of an ass.

Jisung is the house's baby. And therefore, they're always trying to get him drunk. He's a lightweight and he's drunk within two hours of them starting. But he's an adorable drunk sat in the corner of the room on the sofa covered by a blanket that has been taken from someone's room nursing a bowel of snacks and laughing when someone loses ring of fire and has to drink the mixture of alcohol in the middle of the table. He makes it to the club, always does, but is banned from drinking any more when he gets there. He's also constantly under the strict watch of the others as he has a tendency to wander around the club and get lost. Though when in doubt you can always find him in the smoking area getting hit on by much older woman.

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream #university au #college au #nct fluff #oneshot #thatcollegeaunooneaskedforpart1

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adonis-koo · 5 years ago

Text

Burn The Stage

(Prologue)

Description: While being interviewed for the upcoming YouTube series Burn The Stage you reminisce on how you came to join the boyband known as BTS

Pairing: None

Word count: 5.1K

8th!Member AU

Part 2

Masterlist

“How did you find yourself joining BTS? Like the name suggests a boyband, is known for it to be all boys, how did you break that standard?” You shifted comfortably in your seat, the producer of Burn the Stage, a Youtube series BTS had been currently working on, and of course you had been thrilled to participate in, asked you in his seat from behind the camera. Currently you were being interviewed on the most obvious aspect of the band.

Upon first view all eyes usually went to you at first due to being the only girl in the group- in any boy band and probably defeating its name.

You gave it a little though, tugging on the ends of your hair as you reflected back to how this whole mess had started- how you ended up becoming the first ever girl to penetrate the cult of boy bands, despite the camera rolling the staff had told you to take your time and to answer.

“Well,” You licked your lips, your expression thoughtful before busting into a smile, unable to keep a somber expression for so long, making some of the crew unconsciously smile as well, “I was originally hired on at YG when I was a trainee, I was extremely enthusiastic and hard working but things ended up not working out with my group. I was really upset at the time because I assumed I was going to have to go home. My parents paid for my hotel room but I spent the whole night running on an energy drink and desperation to find an audition to attend before I went home.”

-----

Looking down at your dance bag you could almost see your life flashing before your eyes as swallowed harshly. Briefly you couldn’t help but ask yourself what were you doing? What in God’s name were you really doing here? In the moment it sounded like a good idea, you had always been impulsive in nature, but you were left with no other choice!

Now that you had actually gone through with your insane idea, and you were here you could feel your hands become clammy and an anxious pit in your stomach beginning to form.

What happened if they found out? Would they just kick you out? It didn’t matter now, you were here and that’s what mattered. It’s not like you actually had a chance of being cast there was well over thirty other boys in the room and you were like a dwarf in comparison.

See your dilemma was the fact that you actually thought crossdressing was a good idea to audition for a boy band that was scouting to add a new member to their group- they hadn’t even debuted yet, but they were going to be later that year and it was perfect!

Again not like you had a chance, there was, admittedly a lot of flaws in your ill thought of plan but it didn’t make the idea of actually debuting any less exciting. You had originally been scouted at YG but...well, things didn’t work out with your group.

You had already been working hard going on two years, determined to put yourself out there and onto the stage no matter what it took- unfortunately your fellow bandmates didn’t share the same passion for performing as you did. The other three members ended up walking out after being too impatient waiting to debut, leaving you ultimately without a group, rather then pair you up with a new set of members though YG ended up letting you go, saying there was just too much talent for you too compete with and ‘you never stood a chance’ between them.

I’ll never forget when he sat me down in his office and told me that,” You glanced down at your lap, your expression a little downcast at the memory, you’re heart had been crushed and you could barely make it out of his office without crying, you had just been a kid with a big dream at the time, “It was crushing to be told that y’know? And for a moment I almost believed him, but I was a spiteful kid, like- I’m pretty sure that hasn’t changed.” You joked while laughing, smiling cheekily up at the crew.

---

You were crushed by his words but both spite and anger coursed through your entire body soon after, anger because your bandmates couldn’t hack the harsh conditions of training and lack the patience it took for your group to get its well deserved spot like. You can't necessarily blame them as competition between other predebut groups were tough but still, whatever chances you did have debuting were now zero.

You were without a band and without a company, your parents lived all the way on the other idea of Seoul and had paid for a hotel room for the night and were scheduling you a bus ticket back home, your mom, though pitying your crushed heart, prompted you to come back home and just live a normal teen life, you had already been robbed of two years for hard work and zero gain. But you couldn’t imagine life without performing! You loved it like no other, you loved people and the energy of a crowded room and therefore, even if your parents didn’t believe in you, even if the legendary YG told you himself you were hopeless, you weren’t about to give up.

You had spent the whole night raking through websites on line in hopes of finding band in need of a member, or a company holding an audition and there was, unshockingly close to none. But with a stroke of luck, you did find one company that was holding an open audition- It was some no name company called BigHit who had few other groups.

It was your one last hope before you’d be carted off the next day and driven home back to your dull life. But there was catch- They were only accepting male trainee’s and naturally it was for a boyband- You were not a boy.

“I had this really bright idea,” You licked your lips before shaking your head with a wary smile, “And by bright I mean stupid- I really don’t know what possessed me to crossdress but I was desperate, the only option I could find was BigHit and y’know they have the whole ‘No female trainee’ thing, and like…” You pressed your lips together, glancing towards Namjoon at the back of the room who was facepalming while stifling his laughter, “That’s pretty...self explanatory right? I mean obviously that didn’t stop me but still, I’ve never been able to take a hint.”

Your hair had been pinned back flat against your head as you adjusted the hoodie you had on, you had been so paranoid they’d recognize your true nature to the point you even wore a hat for extra security under the hood and even if they couldn’t see your face you still felt out of place.

Despite your appearance it wasn’t hard to pick you out of the group of thirty guys, who were all warming up, you just so happened to be small and petite in frame which made you stick out like a sore thumb, why did you think this was a good idea again? It was three am when you applied, and in amidst yours desperate sleep deprived frenzy you really didn’t think this through properly.

You were only 14 (internationally speaking) but still, for someone who was supposed to be a guy you sure didn’t feel like it.

Looking down at your feet you bit your lip before kneeling down to dig through your bag. Grabbing a medical mask to put around your face to heavily conceal your identity. They’d be lucky to even see your eyes at this rate but that was okay, this was all just for experience, right? You had a nagging feeling that those words would come back to haunt you but you stood up as tall as your short legs would allow you before stretching along side the rest of the boys.

Who were for the most part quiet despite a few murmurs here and there.

Originally you weren’t gonna tell your parents you had found an audition, given the...awkward position you put yourself in. But unfortunately they had gotten an email from YG letting them know about what had happened with your group and hence why you were now desperate to find a group before they could cart you back home.

You loved your parents dearly but they were very hen like with you, and it wasn’t that they didn’t believe in you- they just wished you’d have chosen a more practical pursuit suited for your age. You had stopped them in their tracks when you said you had found an audition to attend- leaving out the requirements of course.

“Were your parents against the idea?” The producer asked curiously, making you instantly snort out a laugh as you nodded.

“Oh yeah they didn’t even like the idea before they knew it was a boyband, I wish I could put into words the lecture I got when it came out I was a girl and I had to call them, one of the most traumatizing moments of my life by the way.” You chuckled along with everyone.

Your parents wouldn’t have liked it regardless, they were already heavily wary of you going into a shotty building, it was certainly wore down and had seen better days. It didn’t look anywhere near as polished as what you had been used to seeing every day but...

Your eyes flickered around the hallway where everyone went about warming up. The lights occasionally flickered and the flooring was particularly stained from age that no amount of head cleaning would ever remedy.

It had seen better days yes, but you didn’t necessarily care about the outside appearance nor reputation- to an extent. All you wanted was to perform on stage, it could’ve been for ten people or ten thousand, you would have cared less.

The door to the studio opened and your heart almost leapt out of your chest as an explosion of anxiety swept through your stomach, one of the members presumably had come out. He greeted everyone while waving them in, you certainly didn’t miss the flash of well built biceps from his muscle top, running a hand through his inky black hair as you sank further into your hoodie, okay, now you were scared.

You were one of the last to file through the door, a buildable table was set at the front of the studio where three chairs sat, two of them filled and one vacant, “Welcome and thank you for coming,” The one on the left greeted, his hair stuck out the most to you, it being styled up into a short mohawk style, vastly popular in the industry right now and you supposed, it made sense.

You did briefly go over the bands description, it was labeled as a hip hop group. Admittedly this was a big leap from your, slice of life, pop girl group. Really, what were you thinking? You couldn’t stop asking yourself the question over and over again in the back of your mind.

“We’re currently looking for one more member with a good dance background before we start composing, since we’ve received vocal samples from everyone already we’ll be focusing on a choreography that we’ve put together from one of our demo songs.”

He waved over to the boy who had originally signaled you all in, “This is one of our main dancers Park Jimin, he’ll be teaching you all today. This is Jung Hoseok,” He waved over to the other person sitting beside him, his black spiked hair and piercing eyes made you feel void in the stomach, technically you’d be performing for them.

It was all a bit unnerving, his eyes, though warm looked calculating, on a good note it meant he was serious about finding a new member. You had been on the other side of the coin at one time when your group had been looking for one last member, unfortunately all of your band mates weren’t as serious as you had been about it.

“And I’m Namjoon, the leader of Bangtan. I’ll let Jimin start the audition off, we’ll be taking notes up here so ignore us from now on.”

Right...wait what? Taking notes? You felt dumb for being so caught off guard, you had took notes when your group was scouting for a new member as well. Technically you were both a lover of people and socializing but...you were at an awkward age and your shyness had really started to bloom as of late this year.

Clapping his hands together Jimin walked towards the center of the room, having most of the introductions out of the way he spent little time talking before diving into the choreography. You had begun to relax as you marked it through, this was more of your territory, you had been the lead dancer of your group so you had felt particularly comfortable in this aspect.

The movement did not though, there had always been a huge emphasis on the girl groups doing more feminine and provocative choreography while the boys did more powerful and difficult. Too which you rather envied, it was actually rather fun having the pleasure of doing a different style of dancing.

Furthermore it was a fair bit more challenging than what you had been doing, not that it was a bad thing. You always loved a challenge. Maybe that’s why you had been so determined to try out regardless of their strict male only policy.

Staying towards the back you had finished the chorus of learning before Jimin had cued the music, doing it once with you all before he let you do it on your own. You had did fairly well and was proud of yourself for staying in time with the music while not messing up, how well you actually performed, was in question though.

Not like they could’ve seen you among the sea of other black hoodies worn by all of the other auditioners, but for your own personal sake you liked to do your best whether or not there would be any fruition to it.

Sitting with your back pressed against the wall you had pushed off your hood, face and hair still concealed by your hat but damn did it get really hot while dancing.

You had shoved the baggy sleeves up to your elbows before pulling the mask down to take a drink of water before quickly pulling it back up. Taking a few more breaths as you waited in the lobby.

All that was left was eliminations which was debatable on how long that would take. First they’d scrap all the ones they weren’t interested in and continue the audition, doing so until the last few people stood.

The door did eventually open, causing your head to shoot up as you pulled your hood back up, Namjoon, the leader as he called himself was holding up a clipboard as he spoke, “First I’d like to thank you all for coming, as you know some cuts have been made. If I call your number please go back into the studio.”

You had already started packing up, suspecting that you probably hadn’t even been seen when he called out, “Number 16.” Freezing for a split second your gaze shot up in surprise.

They...they actually saw you? Dancing? It took you a moment before you set your bottle back down, trudging unsure of how to feel as you went back into the room.

A little over half the group had been cut and you figured it would be like that this round as well. Jimin had sat down at the table and you noticed a remarkable difference in his expression, an almost childlike grin on his face turning him into a totally different person as he lightly joked with the other person- Hoseok if you remembered correctly who was also beaming down at him with a smile that could compare to the sun.

Noticing Namjoon coming back into the room he ruffled the boys hair before standing up, he and Jimin must’ve agreed to switch off. And admittedly you quite admired Hoseok’s technique, he was an excellent teacher and had focused on several points on how it should not only be done but performed as well.

The next part was a fair bit more difficult but nothing you couldn’t do. You had messed up the first few times due to nerves, you were still in the back but the sea of black hoodies had become more of a pond now and easier to see you.

When you had done everything all together, both the part Jimin and Hoseok taught you were surprised you hadn’t snapped in nerves.It was over all too fast but you still had regret, you could’ve done much better but hadn’t.

The bigger part of you was relieved though, you weren’t really sure what you would do if were actually chosen, they weren’t hiring on the spot anyways, right? Regardless of how it was done, you weren’t going to be chosen, one out of so many people was such a slim chance.

The anxious part of you said that was still a possibility while the competitive side of you took it as a challenge. Over all your headspace was a mess.

“I have a bad habit of being competitive in the wrong moments,” You voiced allowed, eyes focusing ahead on the floor as you mumbled it out before glancing up towards the camera, “It’s gotten better over the years and the older members would always scold me for it, but back when I had first joined BTS...well it was the reason I joined BTS.”

How you were called back in the room was genuinely beyond you. At this point everything started to tune out of your head, not quite processing anything that really happened anymore. How you kept up with choreography and continued to perform was definitely beyond you as well.

As the audition progressed the pond of people slowly whittled down into a puddle of people. Only six left including yourself. Your hands were stuffed into your pockets and you were honestly on cloud nine, surprised you even caught their leaders words, “Congratulations to everyone who has made it this far. We were unsure if we’d need to hold the audition in sessions but you’ve all progressed nicely and I think we’ll be able to finish today.”

Today!?

You almost felt the beads of sweat on the back of your neck, at first you had dismissed the idea of actually being picked but now with only six left. The possibility had become very real and you were genuinely becoming concerned.

You couldn’t join a boy band, because it was a boy band! You weren’t even close to being good at pretending else wise! It was a goddamn miracle you could even lower your voice to sounding like a prepubescent boy when you sampled an audio clip for the audition.

Your mind had inevitably went blank as the audition continued, nearing the bridge of their demo song as they continued the choreography. You had been praying hard that you wouldn’t be called back in the room but god wasn’t in the mood for playing games today as you heard your number called again. Your water bottle was near empty and the plastic had become ragged and crinkled from your nervous grip.

It was just you and two other people now as Namjoon announced this would be that last elimination round. But there was a twist, by the bridge of the demo you’d all be allowed to freestyle the choreography to demonstrate artistry. What if you froze up? Maybe that would be for the best.

Did you freeze up? You didn’t, in fact you found your body moving on it’s own, languid and fluidly as each step you performed came to mind one after another before resuming the last set of eight of the choreography before finishing.

Sitting slumped against the wall you sighed while picking at your fingernails while mentally grasping from straws of desperation. Realistically there was no way you could fit the image they were looking for. You were a foot smaller than anyone else in the room and looked like you might as well have drowned in your hoodie. You couldn’t exude testosterone even if you wanted too.

Suddenly you found yourself being knocked from your sitting position as a shoe came in contact with your side. Scrambling you hurriedly attempted to stand up as a sharp pain throbbed in your side.

One of the other audition contestants, number 27 had pulled his mask down. Sneering as he looked down at you, “Would be a shame if didn’t get the part right? Kinda fit the criteria, don’t I?”

Standing up you frowned not saying anything, only to be shoved into the wall roughly, “Don’t I? Look kid no offense but you don’t look a day older than twelve. All I’m saying is, wouldn’t it be fair to just revoke your place in the audition?”

Ah, so he was gonna try and force you to resign so he’d win the position. Biting your lip you felt a wave of over competitiveness take over you. What a sore fucking loser, anyone who had to bully their way to the top was obviously insecure enough to think they weren’t good enough on their own.

Not your problem. You suddenly shoved back as you replied, attempting to lower your voice as much as you could, “It’d be a shame if they found out their potential member is a total asshole.”

It really wasn’t a good idea to shit talk a guy who had at least seven inches on you. But while you may have been in an awkward transitional phase, you- by nature weren’t a push over. He may have been older but being a foreigner meant taking on a foreigner attitude and Londoners were not to be fucked with.

“I’m probably the first person in the group to jump into a fight-” You hummed out before giving a sheepish laugh, looking a bit embarrassed, “Not like, screaming or yelling- but I’ve never been a push over a day in my life. If someone is trying to force themselves on me- their opinion, argument, anything- I’ve never been afraid to stand up for myself, maybe the spite has something to do with that?” You joked while giving another laugh.

Regardless of age a dick is a dick that didn’t deserve respect in your book. His nose suddenly scrunched up, looking ready to pummel you as he grabbed you by the collar lifting you up, “You even sound like a little kid.”

You had instantly grabbed his wrists in an attempt to not dangle, right to cap him in the crotch with a your knee but the sound of a door to the studio opening had cut off his sentence.

“Are we interrupting something?”

The other boy instantly dropped you, giving a tense smile though he shot daggers in his eyes at you while stiffly straightening your hoodie, “No of course not.”

Namjoon, the group leader exchanged unspoken words with the other two members as the other boy wearily backed away from you. Glaring harshly at him you huffed, crossing your arms defensively before turning to face the band.

Clearing his throat Namjoon clasped his hands, “I just wanted to thank you all for coming here to participate in the audition, it really does mean a lot to me and the others. But obviously only one person can be signed off. It was a difficult cut to make but we have a lot of confidence in our decision.”

Dread suddenly filled your stomach as the three of them turned to face you as he gave a congratulatory dimpled smile, “Congratulations and welcome to Bangtan.”

Shit.

---

The whole car ride was anything but silent as you awkwardly wrung your hands. They seemed nice, you had even forgotten your identity crisis at how much they had put you at ease. One thing you had learned quickly in the idol industry was how fake it was on the inside.

How it was set up it was and how it was made to be craved and idolized much like the idols themselves, just everything, it was all synthetic.

The biggest was groups who only smiled at each other when a camera was around. You had quickly found out most of groups relationships were built on publicity and nothing more your original group at YG was no different. Leaving nothing but a void of friendship and warmth when all of the cameras were put away.

Bangtan was not one of those groups.

Seeing them all smile and banter made you realize, these people weren’t just a group, they were real friends. That was when you realized why they were able to put you at ease.

You found yourself smiling and laughing alongside them, you were currently riding from the studio to the company building Bighit to start discussing the contract before signing it.

“You’re gonna love the other guys! Taehyung’s been really excited for a new member.” Jimin, while he certainly packed in muscle was a softy at heart as he gave a warm smile, he wasn’t as talkative as the other two in the car ride, but you could detect he was more shy than anything, which made his muscular build, both ironic and endearing.

“Other members?” You sheepishly rose your eyes brows, remembering to keep your deeper voice up despite it beginning to hurt your throat. Not like they could see your expression anyways as you had been too scared to peel your mask.

You felt dumb for not looking at more of the groups background but too be honest, you never really thought you’d actually make it this far.

“Mhm we have four other members. Seokjin and Yoongi are the older and the other two Taehyung and Jungkook are the youngest.”

You had gotten a sense of their ages as well given how they formally addressed one another. Wait so this was a group of seven? Which meant you’d be the eighth.... Duh, of course but that was a lot of people. You only had three other girls in your group so this was gonna take some time getting used too.

“Don’t worry! None of us bite despite the looks,” Hoseok gave you a pat on the back as he spoke up chipperly noticing your nervous disposition, and he was right, despite his intimidating appearance he had a heart of gold and a knack for making you feel at ease, “Not a lot of the members have experience with dancing, which was why we were looking for someone with a solid foundation. Your application said you’ve been dancing for nine years right?”

Nodding repeatedly you fumbled out, “Yeah! Um...well I’m trained classically, I’ve been dancing since I was about six I think? I began to branch out though when I got older, I have a fair bit of experience in modern, contemporary, jazz as well as some hip hop. It’s not my strong suit though...” you fumbled out a tad embarrassed as you played with your fingers looking down as you felt your face becoming hot.

Jimin suddenly rose an eyebrow as he replied, “Really? You could’ve fooled me. You’re pretty good at holding your own when it comes to adaptability then! See!” He turned to Namjoon, “I told you I had a good feeling about him!”

Him, you gulped at the pronoun, maybe you should’ve just told them right at that moment, that you in fact were a her. But your mouth stayed glued shut, it was such a refreshing change of pace to see people who were actually friends as a group. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to stay for just a few days, right?

“I’m gonna be honest with you,” You sighed, trying to keep a straight face, “I was a dumb kid,” Everyone suddenly bursted out laughing not expecting you to say such a blunt statement, making you smile brightly, “No seriously! I was dumb I remember when I was riding with Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin to BigHit to sign my contract and I was like, oh staying for a few days won’t hurt! But like- That’s not how contracts work,” You gave a loud laugh, slapping your thigh at the memory, “You don’t just sign on for seven years then after three days be like- Yeah this isn’t for me! I mean I was 14, I didn’t really understand how legality worked in a contract. ” Calming down you gave a nod though your smile was still bright.

Arriving at the office you had been formally introduced to Bang Si Hyuk, he was nice enough and you all had begun discussing your contract.

Seven years, the contract wouldn’t be renewed until 2019. That was a long way away and there was no telling what you’d be doing at 22 years old, where would you be? Who would you be? And would she have found success on the other side? You wished you could ask your future self what the future would hold, and if this was a good decision, or a bad one?

They had told you to not rush the decision of course and if you needed time to think it over you could always reschedule. Swallowing thickly you gripped the pen tightly.

When would you have another opportunity like this? And if you didn’t cease the moment while it lasted you’d be carted off back home to an unknown future.

Suddenly you leaned down, signing your name. You cemented your life to this group for the next seven years. You were officially apart of Bangtan, caught in a lie.

“I remember wondering where my life would be after I signed that contract,” You hummed out, your expression finally calming down from your silly interview with Youtube’s staff, “And if I had made a good decision, it was a scary moment for me. Because I didn’t know what was going to happen, or what I would do when I had lied about who I was. But,” You furrowed your brows glancing down at the table in thought, “It was probably the best decision I could ever make, it hasn’t been easy, but that’s only made my journey, my home with BTS that much more rewarding. I’ve always wanted to do nothing more burn the stage, I loved it so much that I was willing to risk my own identity-” You suddenly cracked a smile, “And possibly a lawsuit- which Bang was kind enough to not file for when they found out I was a girl by the way.”

#bts #bangtan #bts x reader #bts x 8thm!reader #bts 8th member #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #hoseok x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #8th member au #burn the stage series

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sarah-wants-to-write · 4 years ago

Text

Searching My Dreams for a Lifetime; Chapter Three (Criminal Minds)

“Strong people stand up for themselves, but stronger people stand up for others.” -Suzy Kassem

◊

Shira wanted to help, but she knew that there wasn’t much she could do. Her job was to focus on the ritualistic and occult aspects of the murders, not the missing persons search.

Yet sitting there in a sling, watching the others do what they did best, she felt almost useless. She knew the key to it all was the sigil, the one mark that she couldn’t figure out. It was the key.

Staying at the station with JJ, Shira was working on the sigil.

“What’s so difficult about the symbol?” the blonde asked, watching Shira trace different shapes to try and figure out how it was put together.

“This sigil is a personal one,” Shira explained, focused on her slow pencil movements “those are made up of symbols, letters, numbers, most anything that is personal to the magic user creating it. When I do work creating sigils, they’re usually from a word or phrase, and I use letters from them.”

“So, whatever this is made of is personal to the Unsub,” JJ mused “and could help us find him.”

“It’s his signature,” Shira declared, glancing up “just need to figure out how exactly.”

The quiet that descended started playing on Shira’s nerves, and she started to twirl her pencil.

“I wonder how their soul mates are doing…” she muttered, earning JJ’s attention. Seeing the curious look on the other woman’s face, Shira gave a small shrug.

“I just remember something that happened to me,” she explained “and I worry about the soul mates of these women. The amount of pain the women feel…it would be excruciating to their fated one, especially if they haven’t met yet.”

“You’ve felt your soul mate’s pain before?” JJ asked, sitting up in her seat a bit “if you haven’t met him yet…it must have been a lot that he went through.”

“I can imagine,” Shira nodded, falling silent for a moment before her hand ghosted over her abdomen “I don’t normally want to think about what happened to mine…”

“Do you want to talk about it?” JJ questioned, reaching and gently putting a hand on Shira’s shoulder.

“It was almost a year and a half ago,” Shira started, quiet “Late at night. I was up late, working on my book. I suddenly felt a stabbing in my torso. I felt it eight more times before the pain stopped.”

“Stabbed nine times?” now that sounded familiar to JJ “I’m sorry you had to feel that…”

“Just makes me wonder what sort of person my soul mate is,” Shira replied, smiling sadly “I know they’re still alive, but…how?”

“They’re strong,” JJ declared, smiling for Shira “that much is obvious. Would have to be, anyway, to be your match.”

Shira nodded, smiling for JJ before looking down at and continuing her work. The other woman watched her, wondering if she was going to tell the rest of the team after the case was over.

There was no doubt in her mind, that Shira and Hotch were meant to be.

When the rest of the team returned, the serious look on Hotch’s face was one that JJ absolutely didn’t like. It wasn’t often he was that angry.

“Doctor Amell,” Hotch started, entering the conference room “we need to talk.”

Shira’s confusion was evident, considering what happened that morning, but she stood and faced him anyway.

“Agent Hotchner?” she replied, watching him.

“All six previous victims, and the newest one, they all have one thing in common,” he continued, aware the rest of the team was watching “they look like you. And this newest victim, Allison Kane, she has your books on her shelf. Attended multiple lectures of yours.”

“So, they’re surrogates for me,” Shira continued, trying not to let her panic show “and you’re now convinced it’s someone I know.”

“Is it?” Hotch demanded “we both know the type of pain Allison is going to go through, so you need to think very carefully. Do you have any enemies?”

“I’m a woman in a male dominated field,” she countered “purported to be the best in the field. Of course, I have enemies. I get multiple death threats a week, Agent.”

“Death threats?” Rossi repeated “you’re a historian.”

“And a woman,” Shira replied, looking to the other agent “do you know how many narcissistic misogynists exist in career fields like mine? I was seen as a threat the day my first paper was published. Death threats started before the ink was even fucking dry and haven’t stopped since. Only increased when I became a teacher.”

“We need a list,” Hotch declared “everyone who sent you threats, especially the incredibly specific and violent ones.”

“I can do you better,” she reached for her phone, dialing a number and putting the phone on speaker “a lot better.”

“Doctor Amell!” came Garcia’s voice from the phone “what can I do for you, my fellow lady genius?”

“I need you to go into my computer at the school, please,” Shira explained “there’s a database on there, of death threats I’ve received. Names, copies of letters and emails, pictures if I could find them. It’s organized by type.”

“First of all, I’m so glad you’re so nice,” Garcia declared “second, I’m so sorry you have to have this because of how nice you are. I can have it quick as a flash! What am I running it against?”

“Not sure,” Shira replied “I’ll leave that to your team to tell you. I just know it’s become apparent that the unsub wants to target me as his endgame.”

“I’ll have the database ready to go for when the team has more to run!” Garcia reassured “best of luck, doctor.”

“Thank you, Miss Garcia.” Shira smiled, hanging up the phone.

“How many threats do you get?” Reid asked, tone clearly surprised.

“Ten or so a week,” Shira explained “more right after exams, or when a new book or paper get published. I’m telling you, though, the key is this symbol here.”

“Then we’ll need you to keep working on it,” Hotch told her “and you’ll be with an escort at all times. One of us, or a detective, am I clear?”

“As crystal,” she replied, shoulders tense “I won’t stop working on this. I’ll figure out what it means, Hotch, I promise you.”

“I know you will, Shira,” he nodded, tone softening “if you need anything, just say so.”

The rest of the team was surprised when she called him by their nickname, even more so when he called her by her first name. Yet they had to find Allison. It was time to focus.

It was late at night, the team still at the station. It had been nearly a week since they’d arrived, two days since Allison Kane was taken. Scared, frustrated, at the end of her rope, Shira was trying her hardest to figure out the sigil, but she was coming up short.

“Might make my own sacrifice to Odin…” she grumbled, looking down at the symbol “if I could just figure this…”

Shira paused, thinking it over. What if it wasn’t someone who’d threatened her? Sacrifices were meant to appease…what if it was someone who’d been an admirer of hers?

Looking at the symbol with new eyes, she studied the brush strokes, and it all clicked immediately.

“It’s a literal signature,” she muttered, earning JJ’s attention “a literal signature!”

“What do you mean?” JJ asked, jolting Shira out of her half-asleep daze.

“The sigil, it’s his initials!” Shira explained, showing the three letters “a combination of O B K. He’s literally putting his signature on the crime scene.”

“How did you figure it out?” JJ took the paper, looking it over.

“I realized we were looking at it wrong,” Shira elaborated, picking up her phone and punching in the familiar number “regardless of why he picked the method, these women are sacrifices. A sacrifice is meant to appease. It isn’t someone who wants me dead, not directly.”

“It’s a fan of yours.” JJ concluded, listening on speaker phone as Garcia picked up on the other end.

“What can I do ya for, good Doctor?” the technical analyst asked, peppy as always.

“Miss Garcia,” Shira greeted, smiling as JJ chuckled slightly “On my school computer, I keep another database. It’s of fans whose letters came across as weird, creepy, or too intense. It’s formatted the same as the other one. I need you to access it, please, and look for entries with combinations of the initials O.B.K.”

“Look for people who are from Minnesota, Garcia,” JJ added “this guy has been methodical in holding to his schedule. He won’t stray far from his home, at least not the state. Too much work to do.”

“Ugh, creepy fans,” Garcia groaned “always the worst. I’ll run through it and get back to you guys with what I find.”

“Thank you, Garcia.” JJ and Shira replied together, smiling as Shira hung up.

“This is good,” JJ nodded “you did great, Doctor Amell. We really couldn’t have solved this so quickly without you.”

“I hear a ‘thank you’ coming,” Shira laughed “and you can thank me when this is over and Allison Kane is back safe.”

Standing and stretching, she gave a tired smile.

“I’m gonna get some air,” she told the blonde “just be right out front.”

“If this is a fan of yours, you shouldn’t be alone, like Hotch said,” JJ told her, standing up “who knows what this fan could do?”

“I’ll just be out front, not even past the stairs,” Shira promised “I’ll be…oh god, I sound like the victim in a horror movie.”

That pulled a surprised laugh from JJ, causing Shira to smile.

“I’ll go with a detective,” Shira reassured her “I’ll be okay, I promise.”

JJ nodded, watching as Shira walked over to a Detective heading out, talking to him before they walked out together.

Fifteen minutes later, when the rest of the team came back, JJ’s phone rang, and seeing it was Garcia, she put it on speaker.

“Is Doctor Amell with you?” Garcia asked as soon as they connected.

“She stepped out for some air with a detective,” JJ replied “what did you find?”

“I ran the initials through the creepy fan database that she’d put together, like she asked,” Garcia explained, earning the curiosity of the rest of the team “O.B.K. and residence in Minnesota. Got one name. Oscar Bennet Kolbeck. Another historian who’d been researching Viking rituals. He started writing to Doctor Amell after her Master’s dissertation on Norse blood rituals, but she never responded.”

“Would have fueled his desire to make a connection,” Rossi mused “he wants her attention. How did Doctor Amell come to this conclusion?”

“She made the connection that this M.O. turns the victims into sacrifices,” JJ explained “and sacrifices are meant to appease. Someone who wanted her to directly suffer wouldn’t want to appease her.”

“Creepy fans,” Reid mused, wincing “I can relate.”

“We need to talk to Shira,” Hotch declared “what sort of letters did Kolbeck send her, Garcia?”

“He said she was a bright, rising star in their field,” Garcia replied “a beacon of wisdom that Odin would visit to learn from.”

“Hence choosing an execution method that relates to Odin.” Morgan said, looking to the others.

“Yet there’s all these references to his own work, and how her paper took attention away from it,” Garcia continued “yet it’s all very humble-brag, backhanded compliment in it’s phrasing. Very passive-aggressive.”

“He sees her as competition,” Hotch sighed “fierce competition, and it’s only a matter of time before he tries to take her out.”

“I tried calling her first, but her phone went straight to voicemail,” Garcia interjected “please tell me she’s okay, you guys.”

As the others were talking, JJ turned and saw the detective that Shira had been with run back inside, blood trailing down his face.

“She’s gone!” he called out “Doctor Amell. He took her!”

“Oh God,” JJ muttered, turning to the rest of the team. The pale, shocked look on Hotch’s face was almost as terrifying “guys, if Kolbeck took her from in front of the station…”

“We need to find her, and fast,” Rossi declared “Garcia, tell me you sent us the address.”

“Already done,” Garcia replied “bring her home, you guys.”

◊

“When a real battle starts, you'll always find that there is no bravest man.” -Jackson Crawford, The Poetic Edda

∞

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #soul mark au #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch fanfiction #searching my dreams for a lifetime

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flowerspecial · 6 years ago

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Calum College Series: Part 3

Calum had to get up very early the next day, much to his distaste. Calum, as a rule, was not a morning person, it wasn’t the waking up that bothered him, but the functioning like a normal person that killed him. It always took him a couple of hours at least before he was ready to start talking to other people. He began to get dressed as he heard a groan from Ashton’s bed.

“Jesus, how much did I drink?” Ashton tried to push himself up from the bed, but his arms quickly gave way, so he fell straight back down. Admitting defeat, he thought it would be best just to stay lying down.

“To be fair mate, you seemed pretty lucid when I found you. But you seemed very keen with Ava.” Calum was just tying his shoes, as he looked up at his friend.

“Oh god, please don’t tell me I did anything?”

“Not that I know,” Calum looked at him quizzically. “Why? Are you not so keen on her now you are sober?”

Even in his dazed-out state, Ashton still managed to throw his pillow in Calum’s direction.

“Shut up Cal, I’m not like that. I just don’t want to rush anything or make something of myself. Besides, I barely know the girl.”

Calum stayed silent, figuring it was better than saying something he would regret. He thought it was weird though, Ashton had known Ava only a few hours less than he had known Mollie. But he had such strong feelings towards Mollie and felt elated when they had kissed. Ashton’s comment had only made him question whether he was rushing things with Mollie, maybe his mind was racing ahead of its time.

“Right well, I’m going to head out for my classes. Make sure you eat something and stay hydrated. I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Calum left Ashton in his sleepy haze and started walking to his classes. As he closed the door, he was greeted by a beautiful chestnut-haired girl, with big green eyes, and a dazzling smile.

“Good morning, sleep well?” Mollie looked up at Calum awaiting his response. Calum looked at Mollie with keen eyes. He didn’t understand how she could look so beautiful every time he saw her. She was wearing a floral playsuit with white trainers, it was simple, but Calum thought it suited her so well.

“Yes, thank you, my night ended so well last night. I slept like a baby.” Mollie looked at the ground blushing so slightly. She never handled flirty conversations well, but with Calum, she was a blushing mess.

“Oh yes? And why did your night end so well?”

“Well, I had the most beautiful girl in my arms, and I even managed to give her a kiss,” Calum smirked at Mollie knowingly, wanting her to feel his adoration towards her.

“I’m glad you had such a lovely night, mine ending in a similar way too.”

“What? You kissed a beautiful girl too?” Mollie laughed at Calum’s remark. She was thankful that he didn’t make it too flirty this time in the morning.

“So, what do you have today?” Mollie began to walk out of the dorms, and Calum followed closely. He liked how genuinely keen she was to listen to him; he appreciated her curiosity.

“First, I have statistics, then physics, then Italian. It should be a good day, oh yeah, I also find out about soccer!” With Mollie on his brain, Calum forgot all about his soccer trials, it was weird how so much could happen in such a short amount of time. College was strange like that.

“Oh, I have physics second as well, is it with Professor Wiley?” Mollie looked up at him hopefully. She wasn’t the most confident of people in a class, so she was hopeful that she would have Calum to sit with.

“Yeah, it is! Do you want to sit together?” They walked towards the bikes so Mollie could pick hers up.

“Yes please!” Mollie exclaimed, quickly realising how enthusiastic she sounded she retreated slightly. “I mean, only if you want to. If you have someone else to sit with that’s cool.”

“Considering how I asked you, I’m more than happy to sit with you.” Calum nudged Mollie with his hip, trying to reassure her. Mollie smiled at him bashfully, as she began to unlock her bike.

“Great! I have bio first so if you get there first can you save me a seat? I will save you one if I’m there first.”

“Sounds great to me, I will see you there!” Calum wanted to kiss her again but settled for a hug. Only the hug was slightly clumsy as Mollie was trying to hold her bike up and the folder in her arms.

Mollie climbed onto her bag and gave Calum one last look. She cycled off to her next class leaving Calum stood outside of the dorms. He smiled to himself as he watched her go. There was something so endearing about her, he could stare at her for hours. But if he did that, he would be late for his first college class, and not wanting to get off on the wrong foot he began to walk to class.

He walked into the vast lecture hall, it was old fashioned with wooden chairs and desks shaped in an oval with a large blackboard placed at the front of the class. The professor was leaving against the desk watching the students mill in. When Calum had arrived the lecture hall was probably only a quarter full, he looked around quickly seeing if there were any friendly looking faces. He climbed the stairs, taking a seat in the middle next to a boy with long shaggy blonde hair. Calum thought he looked like a good guy so decided it was worth a chance.

“Hey mate, I’m Calum, nice to meet you,” Calum said as he sat down and took out his pen and paper ready for the lecture to begin.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Luke.” Luke smiled at Calum, watching him take his stuff out.

Calum and Luke made idle chit chat as more students walked into the lecture hall. Some students looked very confident and sat down at the front of the room, eager to begin. Others appeared timid and more looked for a friendly face to sit with like Calum had done. Next to Calum there was another boy who was wearing a soccer jersey with a jacket thrown over the top.

“Hey, I saw you at the soccer trials. You were so good!” The boy smiled at Calum. Calum returned the smile gratefully; he was about to say something as the lecturer began speaking.

“Welcome class, I’d like to say thank you for getting out of bed this early in the morning to attend this lecture. If you have any problems, please get in touch via email or come to my contact hours in my office. I hope you enjoy this module, and let’s get started.”

Calum quite liked the lecture; he found the topic very interesting, and the lecturer was brilliant at explaining. As the lecture wrapped up, he began putting his stuff back in his bag as Luke turned to him. “That wasn’t that bad, if you want to meet up to study or something do you think we should exchange numbers?”

“Yeah mate that sounds good.” Luke and Calum quickly exchanged numbers and filled out of the lecture room. Calum had about 5 minutes to arrive at his next lecture, luckily it was in the same building so it shouldn’t take him too long. He desperately wanted to make sure he could get two seats together, not wanting to disappoint Mollie. Thankfully when he had walked in, there were plenty of spaces available. Not being too sure where Mollie would want to sit, Calum chose a couple of seats near the middle so she wouldn’t be too close to the front where she would have to crane her neck looking up at the board; or near the back where she could struggle to hear the lecturer. To an outsider’s view, people would think that Calum might be overthinking about this, but to Calum, he didn’t want any excuse for Mollie to not be happy with him. If something as simple as a seat in a lecture could make Mollie happy, he was glad to do it.

Mollie walked into the room, searching for a familiar face. Calum noticed Mollie as soon as she walked in and found it cute at how hesitant she looked while trying to find Calum. Calum wanted to make it easier for her, so he raised his hand and waved at her. When she saw Calum, her eyes lit up and walked over to where he was sitting. She placed her folder on the desk and sat down, tucking her playsuit underneath her. Calum turned slightly, so his body was more towards her.

“How was physics?” She asked.

“It was good thank you, I even made a new friend.” He raised his eyebrows as he spoke, trying to make her laugh.

“You, made a new friend? Now that is shocking, did they feel sorry for you?” Mollie joked. Calum chortled and nudged her shoulder slightly in retaliation. They stopped talking and just stared at each other for a few moments. Neither could explain the intense attraction between each other, but neither wanted to deny its presence. As Calum got out his pen and paper, and Mollie got out her laptop and water bottle, the lecturer walked into the room and began the lecture.

At college there were always two types of students: those who were like Mollie, furiously writing down everything the lecturer said, using a multitude of coloured pens and highlighters; and those like Calum, who wrote about five words before getting bored and began to start doodling in the corners of the page. Mollie noticed Calum’s wandering attention, so would tap on his page in an attempt to get him to start writing again. When she saw that wasn’t working, she decided to draw a couple of doodles on the page herself. Calum laughed at her efforts.

“Let me guess, you’re one of those people who do next to no work, yet still manages to get perfect marks?” Mollie spoke as began to gather her things together.

“No not at all,” Calum replied as they walked down the stairs as to exit the lecture hall. “It’s just I struggle to keep up sometimes with the lecturer, so I prefer to revise on my own at my own pace.” Mollie felt a bit guilty for jumping to conclusions, but she had come across too many people in her life that was gifted academically, and the work they put in didn’t seem to correspond with the fantastic marks they always got. Mollie always felt like she had to work a lot harder than most to get where she wanted to be.

“Well if you need a study partner, you can always ask me.” Calum felt tingly inside when Mollie offered her help him study. He felt flattered that she was willing to help him.

“You know what, I might have to take you up on that offer.”

“Well if you want, we can meet up tonight. It wouldn’t hurt to look through our module and start organising things for our assessments.” Mollie felt like she was grasping at straws trying to make reasons to be with Calum. They had only had one lesson, so there really was nothing to do, but Mollie wanted to spend more time with Calum.

“Yeah, that sounds great! I have soccer practice tonight, but afterwards, I’m all yours!” Calum didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but Mollie blushed, nonetheless.

“Great, well, I have to go to my next class, but, erm, maybe we should get each other’s numbers, that way, erm, you could message me when you’re done?” Mollie was fumbling with her phone spinning it around in her fingers. She held it out for Calum to take so he could put in his number. Mollie would be lying if she said that her heart wasn’t racing, but she wanted an excuse to be able to talk to Calum more. Calum took it eagerly and put in his number, he grabbed his phone out of his back pocket and give it to Mollie so she could do the same. Mollie put in her number and handed it back to Calum. They smiled at each other and Mollie said goodbye as she headed to her next class.

The next class went really smoothly, Calum had fun in Italian. He managed to make a couple more friends, including a boy called Michael. Michael seemed very soft spoken and kind hearted, he made Calum feel at ease. When the class was over, he walked over to the soccer pitch ready to begin practice. He was excited to find out what team he was, but he was hopeful of making the top team, especially with Ashton’s and the boy from his first class’s comments. Calum lined up with the rest of the boys, waiting for the coach. He found the boy he had met in his first class and stood beside him.

“Welcome gentlemen, nice to see you all. I have drafted the lists of the teams in the changing rooms. They are not up for negotiation, the only way you will change my mind is if you improve.” The coach shouted as the boys looked at each other sceptically.

The boys walked into the changing rooms to see their fate. Calum was beyond relieved to read that he had made the first team, he couldn’t wait to call home and tell his parents. The practice was stressful, and the boys were indeed to pushed to their limits. Unlike most, Calum liked being tested, he knew that to be the best he had to push himself. He thought the coach was going to be brilliant for making him a better player.

After practice, Calum was quick to pack his stuff and to leave the pitch. He said goodbye to his teammates, not wanting to appear rude, but it is evident that he was in a definite hurry. He sent Mollie a quick text to say that training was over and was walking back to dorms. He explained that he needed to take a quick shower and should be with her within the hour.

Part 4

#5sos #calum 5sos #calum hood #calum imagine #5sos imagine #5sos au #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin #calum au

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krixwell-liveblogs · 6 years ago

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Check out this post. Wildbow talks about his life on reddit. This explains so much about Taylor’s school experience. No Worm spoilers

This sounds interesting. I’ve frequently wondered about how Wildbow’s life shaped this story.

Let’s take a look.

Redditors who have opted out of a standard approach to life (study then full time work, mortgage etc), please share your stories. What are the best and worst things about your lifestyle, and do you have any regrets?

Well, the title is already intriguing.

Hermit writer here.

Born hard of hearing, went to a regular school. Struggled in middle school. Struggled in high school. Kids who were in my class in kindergarten were in my classes all the way through to grade ten, with the elementary/middle school and high school being a stone's throw from one another.

I kind of knew about the hard of hearing bit already. I can’t find the ask that told me about it, though (it was probably before I stopped using screenshots for asks).

So far this sounds relatively normal, except for that part. But I’m guessing he’s going to elaborate a bit on the struggles surrounding his school life and hearing problems?

In grade 10, after years of bullying and a peer group that had established who was 'in' and who was 'out' when I was knee-high, tired of struggling, I was walking down the halls and I found myself wondering when the last time I'd even opened my mouth in school was.

Oh wow.

I stopped dead in my tracks, just paralyzed by loneliness. I asked myself what the point was, couldn't come up with an answer, resumed walking, went out the side door of the school and went home.

This clearly parallels a few of the last times we saw Taylor at Winslow High.

The start of me just not going to school for that entire year. Nobody noticed.

Damn. He really did write all that from experience. It took a while for Taylor’s absence to get noted, too.

Taylor’s absence getting noted at all actually seems like a fantasy compared to this.

I got caught at the end of the year, did the same thing the next year, got caught only at the end.

What the hell sort of attendance routines did this school have? Clearly not good ones.

Ended up going to an Alternative school (Self study), proved to myself that I had it in me when I got 3 years of studying done in 8 months, won two awards... and then had to go back to my old school for what was essentially grade 13, where I struggled.

Huh. Well done.

People learn in very different ways. Some people can do this much more effectively than learning in a group. Some people are like me and can’t make themselves keep up the effort required to self study, or learn better from lectures than reading.

Some people learn by observing their surroundings while flying.

I worked retail and found it fine. But family wanted me to go to University and figure myself out.

I’m currently working retail, taking a break from the educational system and buying time to figure out what to study.

I went to University and I struggled.

Guys, I’m sensing a theme here.

I spent a long, long time trying to figure out why I struggled, why I was tired all the time, and it took a kind of confluence of events before I realized what should've been obvious. I found the social stuff hard and I was exhausted after a day of listening because I'm severely to profoundly deaf.

Oh yeah, that makes a ton of sense. It’s like how focusing is exhausting when you have trouble doing that, how reading without glasses you need tires out your eyes and brain, etc.

Honestly, it’s a little surprising that I haven’t (explicitly) met a hard of hearing character in Worm yet. Maybe later? Oh wait, there was that deaf waitress at the villain pub in Hive.

Beyond that, the 'path' just isn't for me. The systems and institutions just grind me down. The idea of a 9 to 5 is death to me. These things are built and streamlined for the average person, and between disability and a fairly extreme degree of introversion, I'm far from that average.

That is very fair. There’s definitely a brand of ableism in that system.

In the end, I stepped off the path. I'd been writing a thing online as a side project and the reception was good, so I decided to leave school earlier than planned, use the savings I had, stretch things as far as I could, and work when I could (with a family friend when he needed the help and had the cash to spare, doing some landscaping, drywall installation, house painting, all prepping houses for sale in a boom market) to stretch things further.

This would be too early for that thing online to be Worm, right?

It just occurred to me that I have no idea how old Wildbow is.

And I wrote as seriously as I could while people close to me told me that I didn't deserve to 'get lucky' and have the writing work out because I hadn't seen University all the way through, or openly expressed doubts and disappointments.

Yikes.

Fuck that noise. Writing is tons of effort!

But you know, it worked out in the end. I wrote the equivalent of 20 books in 2.4 years, wrote another 10 for my next series in the ensuing 1.2 years, and I've kept up a similar pace over the last 7 years and two months.

Especially when you’re this coddamn productive!

That’s 8.33 books a year!

I started writing mid- 2011, left school at the start of 2012, went full-time-paying-the-bills in 2014 with an income around minimum wage. I moved to a small town (no car, nothing fancy) that same year. I'm now closer to the average Canadian wage. It's been two chapters a week (2.5 if crowdfunding money is enough) since the beginning.

Oh, I suppose that means it would be Worm after all.

When was this written... huh, yesterday? Well, that explains why this hasn’t been sent to me before.

Writing being Wildbow’s only/main income makes me feel even more right about my decision to set things up so that some of the money from my Patreon goes to Wildbow. It’s not that big a portion of his income (apparently average Canadian wage is 986 CAD or 755 USD per week, and I chip in with about 3.26 CAD or 2.50 USD per week), but it’s something.

My reality: I can go a week or two without really talking to anyone that isn't a cashier.

Sounds a bit lonely in the long run, but as a fellow introvert (or maybe I’m an ambivert, in the systems where that’s actually a thing), I get it - it also does sound pretty good. Especially if you’ve got internet people to casually interact with at your own leisure.

Every two months or so I go to a relative's to dogsit while they're on vacation or to see someone for their birthday, and that gives me most of my fill of socialization and companionship.

Nice!

I don't have a car, so it's usually walking or taking the train to another city, and using public transpo there. I subsisted on a rice and beans diet for a good stretch, one $15 video game bought in a year, and my level of expenses hasn't really risen that much from that point. I eat better and buy a couple more things, but nothing major.

So I guess this would be somewhere between average and reserved?

I don’t know. Being Norwegian spoils me on these things.

60%+ of what I earn goes to savings, which gives me security when my income could fluctuate or disappear at any time.

Oh, that’s smart. I suppose writing would be a bit of a risky business, what with writer’s block, audience fluctuations, sudden drops in popularity because something you wrote didn’t go over as well as you thought it would, etc.

My schedule is entirely my own, which usually amounts to 2.5 15+ hour workdays a week and another 5-10 hours a week spent managing community, finances, and exchanging emails with tv/movie studios, publishers or startups.

I was going to talk about the long but few workdays, but tv/movie studios excuse me what

Is a TV series version of something Wildbow wrote (Worm or otherwise) a serious possibility right now?? :o

Best things - I love what I do. I love creating, I love my reader's tears, I love my readers being horrified.

This is really important. You gotta enjoy what you do.

I get to make monsters and be surprised by what my characters do. Many of my fans are just the absolute coolest people - people I'm now insanely glad to have met and include in my life. There's amazing fanart of my work out there, music, people have gotten tattoos. Tattoos. That's insane.

People have permanently, painfully painted their appreciation of your work into their bodies, Wildbow!

The bad- I'm an online content creator, and it's impossible to convey just how toxic the toxic elements of a fandom can get and how negative the negative aspects can get, and how much it can affect you.

That is true. There will always be a toxic side, and I can imagine works like Worm would attract a lot of the edgy sort.

I've seen 20 online content creators either break down or remark on the effect it has, and it's wholly accurate- and my audience isn't even ~that~ large.

Yeah, it doesn’t take that many people to start brewing fandom sides like this.

This is multiplied by the fact that writing is lonely as a profession (I know too many writers who can't even talk to their life partners about their work) and it can be hard to find perspective or balance as you take it all in, when you don't have people to communicate with.

Robert Jordan used his wife as a beta reader or editor of sorts. She was there to tell him when something he wrote didn’t quite come across, to make up for the fact that he couldn’t tell. After all, he knew what he meant by that one line.

On a similar note, some casual dating would be nice, and living in a small town for economical reasons doesn't leave me with a large dating pool, and at this point I'm not even sure if I could or should inflict myself on someone.

Oof.

There are way too many people who think like that. I hope you find happiness with someone who sees you for the good bean you are, Wildbow.

I'm healthy, groomed, I can hold a conversation, I'm just pretty set in my introverted ways.

...relatable, though.

But still, I’m pretty sure there are people out there for us, who not only tolerate but appreciate the introvert lifestyle.

Hell, both of my crushes have been very introverted, even compared to myself, so I know those people exist because I’m among them.

On another, less social note, there is the fact that as an online content creator, you can't really take breaks. Or you can, but it costs. Consistency and frequency of updates are god, and a hiatus is a death knell.

No wonder he criticized me on this that one time. In his situation, it matters a lot.

I don't even know what an effective vacation would entail, because I feel like finding my stride again would cost more than I gained from having the break. So it's been seven years and two months without a vacation, writing a short book every month.

Damn.

You deserve so many props, Wildbow.

...at some point here I started talking to Wildbow, just like I do to Taylor and other Worm characters. Well, at least this time there’s actually a chance he’s going to read this sometime, if he hasn’t dropped my blog.

I just hope he doesn’t think it’s weird that I’m liveblogging his life story.

It makes for a very strange sort of burnout, when I love it so much, I can still regularly put out some great work to acclaim and praise, but am nonetheless worn down around the edges.

That does not sound healthy.

No regrets. This is me. This is what I'm built for.

As long as you feel it’s right for you, this is good. :)

I could do with less negativity from some fans and getting regular good nights of sleep (the deafness comes with insomnia by way of terminal tinnitus), but both of those just come with the territory.

Ouch.

I feel you on the sleep front (ADD has its ways of messing with your ability to fall asleep too), but tinnitus sounds like a particularly annoying way to be inflicted with it.

I've been telling family for the last year that I'll move to a city with more going on than (as my elderly neighbor phrased it) drinking and meth, where there's classes to take, a possible dating pool, and/or activities that could break me out of my hermit shell... but my current apartment is amazing and cheap, with the nicest landlords ever. It's just in a do-nothing town. I haven't found anything remotely competitive, even taking 'cheap' off the table.

I’ve lived in small-ish towns all my life. It’s pretty nice, especially as an introvert.

So that's where I'm at.

Thank you, Wildbow. This was an interesting read. I feel like I know you a bit better now. :)

(Again, if you’re reading this, I hope it wasn’t too weird to see me liveblogging this.)

#Worm #krixwell liveblogs #Arc 14 #chapter 14.11 #14.11 bet #asks #wildbow's life #mlp:fim #i tried to keep references and jokes out of this

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