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thegingeralien · 4 years ago

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Thought I might share my “doing homework with adhd” tips in case the might help even just one person (because that would make me feel happy).

Who am I to be giving you advice? Good point! I am still terrible at studying and I’m 26 and at University for the millionth time. But I have studied A LOT in my 22 years of schooling with varying degrees of success.

I see a lot of people, especially teenagers or first year university/college students, with ADHD asking for tips on how to study. But if you do a google search most of the websites and advice that comes up can be extremely ableist. So I hope I can help someone!

TIPS TO HELP YOU STUDY WHEN YOU HAVE AN ADHD GREMLIN BRAIN!:

1. Chewing gum!

- This might come across as a weird one, but it has actually really helped me. I use it as a form of stimming to help keep me focused and concentrating. Other forms of stimming can potentially end up being more of a distraction when you actually need to be reading or writing - but they can help if you just need to be listening. Try not to get a bubble gum or fun flavoured one though - as they can end up making your mouth feel dry, lose flavour quickly, and just give your brain way too many sensory things to become distracted with.

2. Buying colour coded stationary!

- New stationary can make me really excited to start studying, but that excitement never lasts long and the act of buying stationary can sometimes become it’s own hobby. That’s not what we are going for here. I really recommend, especially if you are a visual learner like me, to buy colour coded stationary. This means removable page markers, different coloured post it notes, highlighters, sometimes even pens. This way if your mind jumps from one topic to the other, it doesn’t matter. Go with the flow. Forcing your ADHD gremlin brain to focus can be extremely counter intuitive. So pick a colour for each topic, and stick to that system to find organisation among your own chaos!

3. Buy a really cheap, boring year diary with hardly any writing inside.

- Not sure if your school/university has their own diary but they can be perfect for what I am on about. Generally you can find them for really cheap, soft cover, no writing or designs within the dates. Just dates, days, weeks and lines where you can write your homework. This helped me a lot in High School. I wish I had kept doing it in University, but I am good with giving advice, and not so much with taking it. I used to decorate the outside of it however I wanted. Some years I would redecorate the same diary every semester. In the public holidays or holiday days I would colour those lines in with different highlighters to make it look like a rainbow. But every assignment due date, homework, draft, rewrite, form I had to bring back, library book due date, school activity days, ANYTHING to do with school I would write in there with reminds and check lists. Important due dates would be highlighted, general homework and daily to do lists t(o help me not leave my assignments to the last minute) would have a tick box beside them (because ticking tick boxes is free dopamine). Try to not put birthdays or fun things in it. This is a small way to stay on track so it helps you actually stay on track with the big things when you’re home.

4. Big whiteboards stuck on the wall where you can’t avoid it.

- This is not something I had in school, but I so wish I did. I have been using this recently to keep on top of house work (as maintaining your own house is tiring) and my small business or other things I really can’t avoid. If I physically write it down (not just in my phone) it psychologically does help you commit it to memory. Again, physically putting a line through a task you just completed is a hecking great rush of dopamine. But the biggest reason I love my white board, I can’t ignore it. It is stuck to the wall and is never out of sight, out of mind. I can’t put my phone or diary down and then refuse to look at it until I’m past the due date. Again, I’m not a perfect person, there are days where I don’t do anything I have written on the white board. But the great thing is, I don’t have to continuously feel like I failure, as I can wipe it all off the next morning or week and start fresh. I also put important things I have to remember that I’m doing during the week so I don’t forget them.

5. Icky Medication.

- I know not everyone wants to be on medication, and I understand. I am not forcing you to. No matter what your opinions are, you lovely gremlin who is still reading this post, regarding medication, you are valid and I respect you. My personal experience with medication has not been the best. I have been misdiagnosed for a severe chunk of my academic life which has seen me trying to focus and maintain school work under some even worse states then I am unmedicated! However, since receiving my diagnosis and finding the right ADHD medication for me, I have the ability to get so much work done without having to unnecessarily struggle. It’s unfortunately not magic, it will not turn me into a robot that makes me do work and turn out incredible, noble peace prize winning assignments (as much as I wish that were possible). I still have the ability to be a lump, doom scrolling through tumblr, forgetting to eat, and ignoring responsibilities. But it really helps me when I sit down and start that thing that isn’t fun. Yesterday it helped me hyperfocus on cleaning my office which was a terrifying room to be in. So it’s pretty close to magic in my opinion!

6. Accessing Disability Support at your place of learning.

- Not all of you taking the time to read this will have either a) an offical diagnosis or b) a good disability support available to you wherever you are completing your studies. And that is okay. This dot point just won’t be for you right now. But keep it in mind for a time when it might apply to you, as it’s something I never thought I would need, but will never take for granted ever again.

- If you have an offical diagnosis and Disability Support, make an appointment with the disability support adviser. DO IT NOW! Get your psychiatrist to write a diagnosis letter outlining that you have <enter superpower that makes you hilarious here> and that you are receiving <enter x,y,z treatment here> and that you would benefit from receiving <enter what you have always wished you had on the days you can’t make your ADHD gremlin brain do the thing here>. Now these benefits can be, but not limit to: automatic extensions on ALL assignments, extra time on exams, extra breaks to walk around while taking exams, special consideration when marking assignments, my university allows me to take exams in a separate room with only the other students in my subject who also have disability support (occasionally I have taken an exam alone with only a tutor present) so I don’t get distracted, permission to take fidget items into class or exam (I have the option to wear headphones, as long as I can display that they are not connected to anything). Maybe you can come up with some great ones for you with your disability advisor or your psychiatrist.

- The disability advisor will often go through your course outline with you at the start of each semester or year. This is annoying and a great time for disassociating, but can be useful in hindsight because you are made aware of everything that will come up during your class so you are not surprised. Because lets be honest, it is unlikely you are going to look at the course calendar too often.

- Side Note: I make an appointment every semester with my disability support officer for my area of study to make sure I have my special considerations for the year. Now I may go through the whole year without ever using my considerations. However, the fact that I know they are there takes an insane amount of pressure off of myself. If I’m having an insanely screwy loony tune mental health moment, I can email my coordinator my disability plan and say I need an extension due to personal reasons, and WHOOP, there it izzzzz.

7. Dedicated one thing or a few things that have nothing to do with food/alcohol/other substances to reward yourself with for doing the thing!

- This may not work for everyone. It doesn’t always work for me. I used to reward myself with food, but that only reinforced my stimming with overeating and my already bad relationship with food. And I feel as though that would be the same with any other substance that can be linked with addiction. (Addiction is a tough word, cause what aren’t I addicted to, I have ADHD, but hopefully you get what I mean!).

-Now, boring try and not choose this aside, lets think of somethings that work really well as rewards!

- My partner likes to come give me a kiss and a hug when ever they have written and reread a paragraph, you might buy a book when you get a really good mark, you might want to go make a cup of tea and watch an episode of your hyperfixation after studying for <enter a good period of time here>, you might allow yourself to partake in an activity you usually do while procrastinating (but at least this time you know you aren’t putting something off), talk to someone who you know will tell you they are proud of you as they understand the mental struggle you go through to concentrate (if you can’t think of anyone, it is 110% okay if that person are the amazing people on tumblr or the adhd tumblr chats. We will freaking pop a bottle of champagne for you cause we get it!).

- Try and make what ever you choose be something in a different room or away from your working space. Getting out can really calm you down.

8. Don’t be afraid to ask for assistance.

- This is true for anything, but I don’t mean just asking your teacher to give you extra help understanding the task and marking rubric. Many people online, tutors, librarians at your school, past or present students offer assistance rereading and making small edits (they won’t make it magical unfortunately) to your assignments. If you are like me and once you have written or completed the dreaded thing, you can not imagine or force your gremlin brain reread or edit the thing. So it can help to just delegate this to someone else, who hasn’t read it before, so they won’t disassociate or skim read it. They will often notice things you never would have even if you were neurotypical as that is just what happens when you have been working on something for so long.

9. Repetitive music.

- It generally helps if this has no lyrics. Lo-fi is amazing. Classical is alright too if it works for you, but both my partner and I agree that it can really assist you to keep up pace and focus when the beat is a high and repetitive (almost meditative) tempo.

10. Limit your screen space.

- This is a tip completely from my partner @dr-adhd who also has ADHD, is an avid PC gamer and is consistently in a battle with their gremlin brain to focus on completing their PhD. They have discovered that it really helps them to limit their screen space - simply put, work on one screen only. They have done more work more easily when they have their one screen on their laptop to focus on. Whereas their office has multiple screens so they could be playing runescape, watching YouTube, listening to lo-fi and doing work - which never worked (shocking right hahaha).

11. At the risk of sounding like a Mum... Put your phone and other electronics other than the assignment necessary one, away.

- I am a Mum, but to a fluffy puppy dog, so I hate to sound like my Mum when I was in high school, but she was right. Mobiles are the single easiest and biggest distraction in ADHD history. I often, even at coffee shops, have to turn my phone over so that I am not consistently looking at it every time the screen lights up to say the pizza place has sent me a coupon, or a carpet place that has been having a sale since I was born is... still having a sale, or a friend from school wants you to watch this TikTok. Even though you might not want to ignore your friends, because people pleasing, difficulting making/keeping friends and RSD are hecking real things, but they can all wait. Trust me, none of them are urgent. That TikTok will still be funny in an hour or two. And I’m probably completely right when I say that whomever just messaged you, never replies as quickly as you want them too. So I doubt they are going to think twice if you are MIA to finish your thing.

My partner or I might add to this later, but at the moment I already know that I probably wouldn’t read this wall of words if I was the one reading it, so if you are still with me, THANK YOU and I really hope I might have helped you. Sorry for the mound of words, but maybe you can reblog, screen shot, or save this and read a dot point at a time or refer to it when you need. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, I promise what ever it is, I’ve asked the same thing once in my life or something MUCH stupider.

#ADHD #Study tips #actually adhd #autistic #adhd #neurodivergent #adhd study tips #advice #adhdstudytips #studying with adhd #adhd advice #ask adhd #adhd mood #adhd life #adhd vibe #disability support #uni support #school advice

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fullconstellationalt · 4 years ago

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You Weren’t My Mission: Ch. 1

Chapter One – A Second Encounter

TW: alcohol, implied violence

Note: Hello! All chapters will have warnings at the beginning of their content and possible triggers. If you find that I miss any triggers, please let me know and I will add them to the chapter warnings as soon as possible. Thank you! <3

Series masterpost

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

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His eyes were fixed on yours, gaze intense despite the physical distance between you. If the sight of his metal hand hadn’t confirmed that it was him, then his face solidified it. You’d seen this exact glare in your nightmares for years now. Although nearly a decade had passed since the last time you saw him, you had never been able to shake the memory. It was him, and you were sure of it. ･:*:･ﾟ☆

Your thumb swept around the surface your glass, collecting the droplets of condensation that had begun building up. With one final swig you downed the remainder of your gin and tonic, eyeing the entryway on the lookout for any newcomers.

“You all done for the night, y/n?” Vincent wandered over, dish towel in hand, to collect your glass that was now only filled with ice and a slice of lime. He knew your routine by now — you only ever came by for a single drink after work, people-watching as you unwound before heading home to your quiet apartment. While you hadn’t ever told him that last part, he figured that if you had somewhere urgent to be that you wouldn’t be here every night, although he’d never ask.

“I’ll have another, actually,” you declared, voice unsteady as you weren’t sure in your choice. Typically you’d have one drink and leave, occasionally staying around a bit longer to sip on some water if you really didn’t want to go home that night. But the week had been long and it was only Wednesday; you wanted — no, needed that second drink.

“Sure ‘bout that?”

“Yea, I’m gonna hang around a bit longer tonight.” Vincent’s eyebrows raised as he did a slight nod, reaching below the counter for a new glass, to which you let out a playful scoff. “Don’t act so surprised,” you teased, “I mix it up sometimes.” While you rarely talked, you and Vincent had become more comfortable with your banter over the past year or so. Even the most guarded of patrons like you couldn’t avoid small talk with the bartender — especially not if you were a regular.

As you waited for your drink you scanned your surroundings, looking to see if anybody new had come in for a drink. Weeknights tended to be slower, but there were a few couples and groups of friends scattered throughout the room. You and a man no younger than 50 were the only ones seated at the bar, him closer to the entrance while you sat furthest away at the seat you knew had the best view of the place. Almost every night you were in this exact spot, sipping slowly on whatever drink you’d ordered, checking your phone for the occasional text message or work email, and people-watching. It was pretty rare for you to spend more than an hour there in one evening, but tonight it had been nearly an hour and here you were ordering a second drink.

You jumped when Vincent placed the new glass in front of you, your mind focused on the other people scattered throughout the room. He let out a light chuckle as he turned around, walking towards the other side of the bar; he was pretty used to your skittishness by now. Hand wrapped around your new drink, you brought your focus back to your surroundings. A couple seated at a small table to your right engaged in small talk, exchanging pleasantries in-between awkward sips of their drinks. Definitely a first date, you thought. A burst of laughter from a booth further away caught your attention, where a group of men in suits sat meeting for a drink after work. Aside from that, there was little commotion in the bar tonight. While commotion made for fun people-watching, you preferred the gentle hum of casual conversations on slower nights, the occasional clinking of glasses from Vincent’s cleaning or a new table being served.

Realizing a few minutes had passed, you grabbed for your drink and took a sip, eyes skirting over the rim of the glass as you spotted movement in the entryway.

Suddenly, you wished you hadn’t ordered that second drink.

A tall figure entered the bar, shoulders swaying with each step. When he came to a stop you finally took him in, eyes scanning over the black leather jacket that spanned his broad frame and running down to his hands. Dressed in all black, the flesh tone of his hand stood out. Which made the metallic black of his left hand all the more apparent, confirming what you had hoped was just another instance of unnecessary panic.

The brooding figure wasn’t foreign to you.

Your eyes glossed over as you remembered the last time you’d seen him all those years ago. While the nightmares weren’t as frequent and you were able to go days at a time without thinking about it, you were still able to vividly remember the moment. The way his eyes had met yours, menacing and unforgiving as you held back a wail of pain from the pressure of debris pressing on, or into, your torso. The fear that ripped through you when you registered the M4A1 in his tight grip, barrel pointed in your direction. The way you laid there, shaking and ears ringing, wishing that he, whoever he was, would keep moving past you, that he would leave you be. He had done just that, only pausing for a moment to assess your helpless position before lowering the barrel of his gun and trudging onward in his search for his true target.

So many times since then you thought you’d seen him again, only to sigh with relief when you saw the two flesh hands of whoever had startled you.

But this wasn’t one of those moments, and the sight of his metal hand confirmed it. It wasn’t silver like the one in your memory, but there were only so many guys out there with bionic left arms.

You came out of your trance to find that his eyes were fixed on yours, gaze intense despite the physical distance between you. If the sight of his metal hand hadn’t confirmed that it was him, then his face solidified it. You’d seen this exact glare in your nightmares for years now. Although nearly a decade had passed since the last time you saw him, you had never been able to shake the memory. It was him, and you were sure of it.

With a slight roll of his shoulders and a subtle nod, he dropped his gaze to the floor and began his slow descent towards the bar.

The sip of gin and tonic you had taken still sat on your tongue as you finally lowered the glass, letting the liquid slide down your throat and feeling the tingling sensation travel down to your chest. Your breath was shallow as your hands started to shake, to which you began fidgeting with the closest thing in front of you — the paper napkin that had been under your glass. As you ran your fingers along its corners and kept your eyes glued to the bar top, you felt his presence near yours, confirmed by the sound of heavy footsteps that approached.

The scent of fresh balsam and a bit of mint flooded your senses as you noticed him standing to your side, giving you a moment to take in his presence before sliding into the seat to your right. Having kept your eyes trained on the napkin at your fingertips, you subtly glanced over, noting the metal arm that was closest to you. It’s really him, you confirmed. Instead of a reflective silver like the arm you remembered, this one was much darker, a black metal with hints of gold in between the plates. You couldn’t see further up than his wrist, the rest of his arm concealed by the jacket.

It took everything in you to refrain from bouncing your leg against your barstool. Maybe if I stay as still as possible, you thought to yourself, I’ll make it out of here alive. You had no clue what he wanted and it terrified you.

The desire to fidget became all the more intense as you felt him shifting his upper body to face you while in his seat. Your breath hitched when his flesh hand came into view, extended for a greeting in your direction. He let out a low sigh as you shifted your gaze slightly, glancing at his hand before sheepishly making eye contact with the man who had once both threatened and spared your life. You watched as he slightly parted his lips, allowing for a gentle smile to form at the corner of his lips.

“Long time, no see, Miss y/n. I’m James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, and you’re a part of my efforts to make amends.”

Next Chapter (Chapter 2 – Making Amends)

A/N: Thank you for reading the first chapter of this story! I'm currently drafting up what will come next, but am in the end of a semester so it may be a few days until I have something ready to publish. This is my first longer work and I'm looking forward to the journey. Stay tuned for updates, and please let me know if you have any comments or questions!

#Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #Winter Soldier #winter soldier fanfic #marvel fanfiction #Sebastian Stan #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #angst #bucky makes amends #you weren't my mission #bucky fanfic

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hotchkiss-and-tell · 4 years ago

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Dates or Time of Year for Each Nancy Drew Game

whatamagicalplace made one of these charts last year. Those efforts gave me a starting point but I wanted to tweak it after doing my own research. I decided to share my final result since my version differs from hers in several ways. My reasoning for each game is discussed below; but if you have any evidence to add, feel free.

SCK: Nancy says in the opening letter she took a semester off school to visit Eloise in Florida. The banners for Senior Prom are still prominent throughout the school and the event is scheduled for May 23. Game takes place in a single day but that day could be any time in late spring semester prior to May 23.

SCK2: Homecoming banners are prominent and the event is scheduled for Sept 23. A flyer with Jake’s secret messages has a date of Sept 05, so let’s assume Jake was still alive then. The game says Nancy is there to investigate after Jake was murdered “last week.” That could mean three to seven days after the murder since it happened on a Thurs. Thus Remastered takes place in a single day but that day could be anywhere from Sept 08 to 22.

STFD: Nov 13 (confirmed with calendar). Game takes place for as many days and nights as player needs.

MHM: “Winter Festival” and Charlie studying for finals indicates late Nov to early Dec. Newspaper about the lost gold at the end is dated Mar 03; it could’ve been published after money settlement and the renovations completed though. Game takes place for as many days and nights as player needs.

TRT: December. The Spanish letter from Lisa’s friend is dated Nov 30 and acknowledges that Lisa is already in Wisconsin. By now, time should be well into Dec.

FIN: Possibly Nov (game’s release) but there are no confirmed dates on anything. It’s likely during the school year since Maya is doing the interview for the student newspaper. Game takes place over three days.

SSH: Calendar on Henrik’s desk is for the month of April. The book version takes place during the DC Cherry Blossom parade which usually occurs last week of March or early April. Game takes place for as many days as player needs. (Early April timeline would match with end of game trailer and dates for DOG.)

DOG: Jeff’s calendar is open to April. Culprit’s log book says Sally is due to move in to the cabin on April 19. Sally says she spent four weeks at Moon Lake, implying the game starts May 18. But I really don’t see Jeff’s character forgetting to change the calendar, so either Sally moved in early or she means four weeks total including seeing the property, bidding, and the final sale plus moving in. And let’s remember there’s no safe water source, so it’s unlikely Sally could live there for four weeks straight. Sally says the dogs howled a full week before they attacked the house and then they appeared every night since; maybe Sally lasted 9-14 days with the ghost dogs. The game could likely begin anywhere between Apr 28 and May 18. Then continue for as many days and nights as the player needs.

CAR: Culprit’s emails with black market dealer date from May 23 through June 04. Harlan’s appt book opens to June 09-13 with the significant clue on June 10. Game is a single day, likely on June 10, but could be as early as June 05.

DDI: June 17 (confirmed with calendar). Single day of gameplay.

SHA: Sept 15 to 17. Nancy’s airline ticket confirms arrival date in AZ. Timeline of the game takes place in three days. (Tex’s b-day is Sept 16!)

CUR: This is anybody’s guess. Hugh and Linda were married Aug 22. The lawyer’s letter to Mrs. Drake states Linda must live at the manor for another three months to fulfill the “six-month-habitation-clause” and those six months must be consecutive in the first year of marriage. Game could be late Nov at the earliest. However, frogs are chirping when Nancy arrives at the manor which is a spring thing and Bess and George say they are attending sailing camp. The fact that no one is suggesting that Linda can leave due to health reasons and start the six months over when she’s well again makes me think the year is half gone already. So the game could also be taking place in April or May at the latest.

CLK: May 07 (confirmed with calendar). Single day of gameplay.

TRN: We see snow in Copper Gorge, but it’s in Colorado and snow can be any time of year there. Frank and Lori are wearing the puffy vests and everyone else has jackets and sweaters. Fatima says it’s the off-season now and summer is the busy season. Makes me think winter is my best guess.

DAN: Game takes place for as many days as player needs. The newspaper on Day 1 is dated Aug 28. Newspapers continue to appear through Sept 06, which publishes that the journalists are negotiating for raises and the sounds of the impending strike are occurring outside JJ’s apartment. Day 11 (Sept 07) and onward have no more newspapers appear on the kitchen table. Let’s say Aug 28 to Sept 07 for simplicity.

CRE: Mike’s calendar is set to March. Quigley’s tape recorder log updates as of Mar 28. Craven’s shipping records say his latest sample was sent to Aikens Biotech on Apr 09. Game takes place in a single day, probably Apr 09 or 10. (Mike just hasn’t turned over the calendar yet)

ICE: Newspaper in the lodge is dated Jan 13. Elsa’s resignation letter is dated Jan 15. Lodge computer says Lupe checked in on Jan 15 and she noticed the lack of maid services for days. Game likely takes place that same week, starting maybe Jan 18 at the earliest, and lasts over several days and nights.

CRY: May 31 (confirmed with calendar). Single day of gameplay.

VEN: Newspaper in the Ca’ terrace says chalice was stolen “this morning” and the police records say the theft happened Jan 25. When Nancy nabs Nico on the stakeout, the next day’s newspaper is dated Feb 03. Since game takes place over several days, it likely plays from Jan 25 to Feb 03.

HAU: Night of May 28. The wedding is set for June 01. The end dialogue says Kyler and Matt couldn’t stop saying “I love you” from when the rocket launched to four days later, which was their wedding day.

RAN: The float plane pilot says resorts like Dread Isle shut down in the summer for “hurricane season” in the Bahamas. And the game was released in July. Since we see the map that charts all of Nancy’s past cases (including HAU) so the game is after the wedding on Jun 01. But there is no reference to the current date aside from “summer.” Single day of gameplay.

WAC: The essay Mel receives from her teacher with the plagiarist comments is dated Nov 21. Since two more nights of sleep are required to trigger events in the game, we can figure that the game takes place from Nov 21 to 23.

TOT: Scott’s calendar is open to May and filled in with code until the 19th. The log book of precipitation is filled out until May 24. Game likely takes place from May 20 to 25.

SAW: The TE-Japan brochure in Nancy’s teacher tote says her exchange program runs from Jun 01 to Sept 15 with different durations of 2 weeks, 3-4 weeks, and 5-8 weeks. With no specific date in the game and the player taking as many days and nights as needed to solve the mystery, we have to settle for saying it takes place in “summer.”

CAP: Karl’s daily calendar is on page March 12. When Nancy finds the final forged email from “Markus” she remarks that it has tomorrow’s date, which is Mar 13. Game is a single night of play on Mar 12.

ASH: Newspaper and police report of Nancy’s arrest say the game is done in a single day of August 18. The fire took place on Aug 17.

TMB: It’s the desert and there are no dates on any clue in the game. Since Lily is a student and Abdullah and Jon are professors, perhaps the game takes place in summer between any busy semester/class schedules.

DED: Ellie’s notepad in the control booth says she gave the coil demo to Nancy on Oct 29. Nancy arrived in daylight hours but since Ellie is on the night shift, the demo could have taken place on either side of midnight which means the game could start on either Oct 28 or 29. (Nancy arrived 10/28, night fell and midnight passed, then Ellie gives demo 10/29 OR Nancy arrives 10/29, night fell and it’s not midnight yet, then Ellie gives the demo still on 10/29.) Game continues for as many days and nights as the player needs.

GTH: Jessalyn’s phone recorded her bachelorette party antics from the night of Oct 27 to early morning of Oct 28. Addison says Jess had vanished for the second time after sun-up. It is unclear how many days Jessalyn has been missing before Nancy arrives on the island. Nancy was deep asleep when Savannah calls her for help, which means Jess has been gone at least a full day. Then Nancy arrives on the island at night which either means it’s evening on the same day of Savannah’s call or another day has passed by the time Nancy gets there. Oct 29 is the earliest possibility. Game takes place over three nights. Likely set between Oct 29 and Nov 01.

SPY: The newspaper reports that July 14 is near and it will be the eighth anniversary of Revenant’s first attack. Alec’s letter documents that his sister was kidnapped on the first of the month and has not been seen since. Game takes place between Jul 02 and 14. While Nancy cannot sleep or change the time of day, it is hard to believe that traveling back and forth throughout Scotland’s towns and the different phases of the spy operation all take place in a single day.

MED: Summer in the southern hemisphere, so datewise it’s set between Dec and Feb. Again there’s no sleep or time of day transitions but the elimination rounds likely take place over several days.

LIE: Employee timecards are recorded through July 05, the artifact exchange log is filled out through July 06, and the packing slip on the open crate says received July 06. Game is a single day of play, likely on July 06 or 07.

SEA: Soren’s winter guest log says Nancy is visiting in January. Game takes place for as many days and nights as player needs.

MID: Minion’s plane ticket TO Austria where the game begins is dated Oct 26 and the game goes into Halloween.

#all games #chart #Nancy Drew #look what i made

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years ago

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Let Me Get Close To You

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my fic for my @starkerfestivals summer BINGO “wrong number” square. I sat down to write this a couple of days ago & just couldn’t stop - I hope you guys enjoy the cute little verse I created (that I’ll more than likely revisit soon!!). Here’s my bingo card - if you see something on there you might want written, shoot me a message!!! Word Count: 7K Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case? Summary:

Stuck with the worst professor for Nuclear Science, Peter tries to vent his frustrations to Ned - only to send a desperate text message to Tony Stark, instead. When an immediate spark and so many things in common make it easy for Peter to fall further for the elegant genius, what’s the worst that could really happen?

Or: the one where Peter texts the wrong number & romance ensues.

Read on AO3 here.

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Fuming from a frustrating Nuclear Science class, Peter maturely stomped his way out of the engineering building. They were only two weeks into the semester and the old man already had Peter on edge. His major revolved around the class and his ability to get the most out of the information. The dinosaur that stood at the front of the lecture hall every day hadn’t had an original thought since the 90s and refused to see when others did. Much like every old white man, Dr. Milner’s ideas were the be all end all of a science that changed by the millisecond.

Still pretty new to campus after a late sophomore year transfer, Peter didn’t have many people to turn to that weren’t his nerdy and standoffish teammates on the Academic Decathlon team – most of those guys lived in a world a couple steps from the norm, happily keeping to themselves. Though Peter existed there eighty percent of the time, his need to be social and fill a space in the real world made it impossible to commit to that sort of isolation fully. Straddling the line made it difficult to exist on either side – Peter’s favorite pieces of himself were what kept people away, no matter the lifestyle.

With his mind so heavy with all sorts of negativity, Peter suddenly found himself homesick; he spent so much of his life trying to escape the streets of New York – so far from home now, Peter missed them desperately. Thinking about his tangible connection to his favorite urban wasteland, Peter pulled his phone out and hastily typed in Ned’s new number.

Peter Parker [1:23PM]: Hi, I hate it here. Peter Parker [1:24PM]: Dr. Milner is out to get free thinkers. I may not survive the next fourteen weeks.

Peter already felt a little better after typing the words – the mere ability to get one of his many worries off his chest did wonders. Until his phone pinged with a new text message notification, of course.

Nimble fingers pulled the phone from his pocket, his eyes carelessly looking over the screen as it unlocked. Expecting to see Ned’s name there, Peter almost threw the phone to the ground when Siri’s suggestion registered.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:26PM]: Hi stranger! I think this was meant for someone else, but I too think Dr. Milner is out to squash any new idea that doesn’t fit the mold. In his forty-year career, he hasn’t changed a bit.

Another text message was below it, but Peter forced himself to stop reading – his heart felt like it might beat out of his chest already, too much excitement at once couldn’t be good. Out of all the numbers he could’ve accidentally typed, Tony Stark, New York’s genius and resident beauty, Peter’s secret (though not so much) crush, ended up on the other side of the line. The unbelievability of the idea made Peter consider a well thought out prank. Then again, how did any of his fellow classmates know Tony Stark’s personal number?

Sucking in a deep breath, Peter made himself look at the second text message waiting unread.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:27PM]: I’m not sure how you got this number, but I sincerely hope you make it out alive. If you’re in Milner’s class, you’re on the Nuclear track, which means you must be smart. Trust me, the world needs your future contributions, whatever they might be.

Peter gripped the phone a little harder after reading through the second message over and over again. He let his eyes take in each of the words, wondering, if it really was Tony Stark, how anyone ever survived talking to him. In so few sentences, Peter already felt discombobulated, both more confident and turned around than just seconds before. Aside from his infatuation with the man, Peter understood Tony Stark’s contributions to the technology community and the world at large more than most.

It took him a few minutes to convince himself to text back – every time he tried to type something, his fingers froze just centimeters above the screen. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask to make sure he wasn’t getting catfished. Instead, Peter took the direct route, his courage obviously all or nothing in the face of something as big as an accidental interaction with Tony Stark.

Peter Parker [1:35PM]: Holy crap – excuse me for the bluntness, but is this really Tony Stark? Siri doesn’t often get things wrong, especially since I souped her up. But I’m sure you can understand the apprehension. Peter Parker [1:37PM]: Would you be up for answering a few questions just to make sure?

The tip of his finger tapped against the screen impatiently after he hit the send button, his nerves and the not-so-subtle excitement were barely contained under the surface of his skin. He couldn’t remember a time where feeling alive was so prominent.

A smile slipped across his lips when, a moment later, three consecutive texts vibrated Peter’s phone in succession.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:40PM]: You souped up Siri? Steve Jobs is probably turning over in his grave right now. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:41PM]: I think I’m the one that should be asking the questions, don’t you think? How did you even get this number, Peter Parker? It’s a private line. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:42PM]: I am, though – Tony Stark, I mean.

Peter Parker [1:45PM]: Reconfiguring tech is kind of my thing. I used to dumpster dive in high school – you’d be surprised by the cool pieces of technology people put in their trash. Peter Parker [1:46PM]: Oh, bringing out the big guns – I’m happy to see Siri without my latest addition works for others, too. Peter Parker [1:47PM]: It was an accident, sending those first texts to you. My friend in New York just started a new job that came with a paid phone. I still haven’t saved the number. You are one off from him. Peter Parker [1:48PM]: Alright, Tony Stark. Tell me what campus I’m on.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:53PM]: I’m not surprised by anything human beings do, especially in New York City. Throwing out a perfectly good iPod is certainly not the weirdest thing I’ve heard of. Did you make anything interesting in your trash conversion adventures? Maybe – Tony Stark [1:54PM]: You talk a big game, Mr. Parker. Can you walk the walk, too? Maybe – Tony Stark [1:55PM]: He must be on my payroll, then. The bank of numbers my employees have come from my personal network. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:57PM]: That’s an easy one. You’re at MIT – Milner was there when I was a student. The only thing that’s probably different between then and now is the amount of hair the old bag has.

Peter Parker [2:01PM]: You’re not wrong, Mr. Stark. I made things that helped me be self-sufficient. I grew up really poor and couldn’t afford the things everyone else had – so I figured out how all the tech worked and made my own. I’ve been using a ten-year-old iPhone for ages. Peter Parker [2:03PM]: You bet. Are you challenging me? Peter Parker [2:04PM]: He is, actually. He started in an entry level position two weeks ago. Peter Parker [2:06PM]: It’s gross, isn’t it? I’m glad we’ve moved past projectors in the classroom – the hair on his hand would make for a distracting shadow. Peter Parker [2:07PM]: Okay, okay. I think I’m convinced. One more test, though – send me a picture.

Maybe – Tony Stark [2:14PM]: Oh boy, none of that Mr. Stark shit. As far as you’re concerned, I’m Tony. Only Tony. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:15PM]: You made your own. That’s – impressive. I’m impressed and more than a little curious. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:17PM]: Challenging you, no. Enticing you, yes. I’m visiting Cambridge to do a guest lecture series next week. Come see what Stark Industries is up to – I’d love to hear what you think. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:18PM]: It was as bad as you think. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:20PM]: Okay, Peter Parker. [IMAGE ATTACHED]

A gasp of shock left Peter’s mouth when he opened the last text to find a smirking Tony Stark looking right at him. To prove the time and date, Tony held up the New York Times, his free hand pointing to the headline Peter read on his phone earlier that morning. After the shock of actually talking to Tony Stark wore off, Peter let himself take in the picture and all of its details.

Tony’s desk was largely visible in the shot – pens and stacks of paper littered the surface, a few rogue pieces of tech ready to be fiddled with acted as paper weights and grungy aesthetic. The man himself was breath taking – his glasses were a deep violet, offset beautifully by the crisp white shirt and black waistcoat covering Tony’s upper body. A light purple tie was loosely knotted at his throat, as if he fiddled with it while working just to keep his hands busy.

Without much thought, Peter saved the photo and added Tony to his contacts before replying – there was no reason not to trust the man, the spark in his shiny hazel eyes seemed to genuine and real to even question.

Peter Parker [2:25PM]: Only Tony, got it. Peter Parker [2:26PM]: Curiosity is good – keeps you fresh and on your toes. Peter Parker [2:27PM]: Oh, I see. You want a chance to impress me. I like that. Not sure what my opinion is going to do for you, but I’ll be happy to share it. Peter Parker [2:29PM]: Gross. Peter Parker [2:30PM]: I’m – you’re… Wow. You really are Tony Stark.

Tony Stark [2:37PM]: I think you’ll have no problems keeping me on my toes, Peter. Tony Stark [2:38PM]: I have a feeling your opinion is one that I’ll be very interested in. You’ve been nothing but blunt this entire conversation, I know I’m getting the real deal stuff. Tony Stark [2:40PM]: I am. I really am Tony Stark. Tony Stark [2:41PM]: It’s your turn, Peter Parker. What face belongs to that beautiful brain of yours?

Forcing himself to breath, Peter looked around the room for the best spot to return the favor. The bed was a hard no, he didn’t want to send the wrong vibe to a person who could easily have whomever they wanted. His desk was small, but meticulously organized – his study materials open and ready for a night of reviewing the only thing obscuring the surface. It was obvious Tony appreciated his brain, it seemed pertinent to take advantage.

After a few attempts, Peter found the perfect angle to catch the light in his eyes, making them shine brightly in the camera. He thanked the clothing gods that he chose a well fitted three-button Henley in his haste to get out the door that morning. The feeling of satisfaction was new, but not unwelcome – he wanted to send Tony the photo; for once, he knew it would impress.

Peter Parker [2:55PM]: Keeping implies longevity. Are you planning on sticking around? Peter Parker [2:56PM]: My brain to mouth filter runs at less than 10% at all times. It has brought me more trouble than shutting up ever would. Peter Parker [2:27PM]: You’re gorgeous. Violet is a nice color on you. Peter Parker [2:29PM]: What do you think? [IMAGE ATTACHED]

Tony Stark [ 2:37PM]: Yes. I think that’s the answer to that question. You’ve presented a puzzle I want to solve. Tony Stark [2:38PM]: Shutting up never got anyone anywhere. The noise we create is what shapes us. Tony Stark [2:40PM]: Thank you – I have a lot of it in my wardrobe. Tony Stark [2:44PM]: & you called me gorgeous; Peter Parker, you’re a stunner.

Peter Parker [2:51PM]: You’re a scientist, you do that for a living. What makes me so different? Peter Parker [2:52PM]: That’s a refreshing opinion. I like the way you think, Only Tony. Peter Parker [2:54PM]: That honestly doesn’t surprise me. Peter Parker [2:55PM]: Do you tell the person who made you blush that you’re blushing? I don’t remember that standard operating procedure.

Tony Stark [3:01PM]: My intrigue is of a personal nature only – the puzzle you pose is of a different sort. Usually, I think and think and think until I solve whatever the problem is. With you, I want to gather all the clues and take it apart piece by piece. Tony Stark [3:02PM]: That’s a little heavy for only knowing each other a couple of hours, but when you know, you know. Tony Stark [3:03PM]: Not usually, but I have a feeling you’re an exception to a lot of things, Peter Parker.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, Peter continued to exchange flirty text messages back and forth with Tony – the mood stayed open and easy as the time passed. The older man helped Peter get through Nuclear Dynamics and three hours of decathlon practice. For all the brains Tony had, Peter was surprised to find humor and a bit of insecurity, too. Tony let himself go on tangents and make dad jokes that were a step away from being obscene.

That trend continued for the rest of the week and well into the weekend. By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, Peter knew Tony’s schedule, half the newest late-night discoveries, and the way Mr. Sweet Tooth took his sugary coffee. Though a line of attraction and want existed, Peter was happy to know Tony as a person without the ability to act on the obvious tension between them. And while he appreciated the wholistic way they were coming to know each other, Peter couldn’t wait to see Tony throughout the week, either.

The older man seemed to share his sentiment – the shrill notification of a text message received pulled Peter out of his thoughts.

Tony Stark [7:30PM]: Hey, Pete! I present at 5:30 tomorrow afternoon. Want to grab something to eat afterwards? Tony Stark [7:31PM]: I’m impatient to get back to Hogan’s and thought you might appreciate his culinary prowess.

Peter Parker [7:35PM]: Tony – this is the fourth time you’ve reminded me about your presentation. I’ll be there. For dinner, too. Peter Parker [7:36PM]: Culinary prowess; if it merits that title, I’m sure it’ll be worth it.

Tony Stark [7:42PM]: I know – I just get some performance anxiety. It helps to remind myself that you’re going to be there. Tony Stark [7:43PM]: It is. Hap is an old friend of mine. He left MIT to go make his restaurant dreams happen and has been stupidly happy ever since.

Peter Parker [7:47PM]: I get it – I’ll gladly be your security blanket, Tony. Peter Parker [7:48PM]: Something tells me there’s more to that story, but I’m sure you’ll tell me one day. I’m excited to try it. Should I look up the menu beforehand, or let it be a surprise?

Tony Stark [7:55PM]: I like the sound of that. I’ve pictured having you in my arms often. Tony Stark [7:57PM]: There’s always more to the story, Pete. Let it be a surprise! In fact, I’ll order for you to make sure you get the whole newbie experience.

Peter Parker [8:05PM]: I’ll boldly say you can have me in your arms as often as you like. Peter Parker [8:06PM]: The newbie experience – there hasn’t been a time in my life where that’s been a good thing. Peter Parker [8:07PM]: Yet. Surprisingly – I trust you.

The next day went by quickly – Peter took a quiz in Nuclear Science and dug into his other two classes to keep his mind focused on anything other than Tony’s imminent presence. His last class was a core history class, so he gladly tucked into the reading the professor let them loose to do. The chime of his alarm broke through Peter’s fog a couple pages from the end of his assignment. Though he liked to be ahead, Peter gladly took the extra few minutes to get himself together before heading to MIT’s presentation hall.

Decked out in his finest pair of black jeans, a blue denim short-sleeve button down, and solid black high-top Converse on his feet, Peter walked the few minutes it took to get back onto campus from his small apartment. Unsurprisingly, a line was formed out the door of students hoping to get into the presentation last minute. Tony told him earlier in the week that they waited to advertise his appearance until the a few hours before to stop the masses from flocking. To Peter, the time restriction seemed to only make it worse.

In Tony’s excitement to have Peter there, the older man set aside a ticket for him – instead of joining the line like he might’ve without Tony’s insistence, Peter walked straight into the cool auditorium, snagging a seat at the end of a row located dead center in the auditorium. The vantage point was perfect – Peter wouldn’t have any trouble catching Tony’s eye as he spoke. Grinning at his access to such a simple pleasure, Peter relaxed back into the seat, passing the time until Tony took the stage by watching the crowd flood in around him.

It wasn’t long before the lights were dimming and a sweaty, high ranking alumnus gave Tony Stark a mediocre welcome onto the stage. The crowd broke out into a cheer that more than made up for the old man’s subpar words. Tony timed his entrance perfectly; he walked out as the energy rose, the shift in the crowd’s tension working to enhance everyone’s excitement. Peter found himself glued to the man, who until that moment, existed entirely on the other side of the phone – he didn’t want to miss a single second of full-body absorption.

A black suit coat sat snuggly on Tony’s shoulders, a singular button keeping the sides closed. His dark hair was elegantly styled, the bed-head look enhancing the easy-going style Peter knew Tony strived for. The facial hair Peter came to truly appreciate over the last few days of texting drew attention to his sharp cheekbones. Tony seemed genuinely happy to be there if the beaming smile on his face said anything at all. With a few claps and the corniest joke, the older man got the crowd under control, proceeding onto his speech with an effortless transition.

As expected, Peter found himself interested from the very beginning. Tony’s new work on energy and its uses amongst transportation and city overhaul was ingenious – when things got up and running, New York’s power grid would run completely on sustainable energy. So many thoughts flashed across the front of Peter’s mind – he wondered if Tony would let him take a look at the blueprints. He might not have much to contribute, yet Peter understood the opportunity for learning and development when it presented itself.

By the end of Tony’s presentation, Peter was overjoyed to know that he wouldn’t need to feign interest in the topics Tony brought to the table. For a while, Stark Industries went through a slump of working on weapons and junky tech Peter found in the trash more often than he ever wanted to admit. It felt good to be excited about something new coming from the company – Tony Stark was the smartest person in his field, anything less than almost perfect just didn’t do the man and his ideas justice.

After fielding a lot more questions than Peter expected, Tony headed off the stage with a roar of applause – the genius wasn’t a household name for nothing. Smiling at the thought, Peter pulled his phone out; he got to see behind the curtain more than others – he felt a sudden surge of gratefulness at the fact. Every person around him would do anything for the privilege; taking that for granted just wouldn’t do.

Peter Parker [6:45PM]: You’re an incredible public speaker, Tony. Peter Parker [6:46PM]: Thanks for making me come!

Tony Stark [6:49PM]: How inappropriate of me is it to say that this isn’t the only time I plan to make you come?

Peter Parker [6:55PM]: Very, but it’s appreciated, nonetheless. I’ll meet you over by the Engineering building whenever you’re done trying to outrun your fans.

Tony Stark [7:00PM]: You’re fucking hilarious. I’ll meet you there in five.

True to his word, Tony snuck up behind Peter a few minutes later – soft palms that gave way to well-earned callouses pressed against Peter’s cheeks as Tony covered his eyes. The mere fact that Tony was there at all was surprise enough; the touches and softly whispered “Hello, Pete,” in his ear felt like more than enough to cause a coronary.

Shaking his head to clear it, Peter turned in Tony’s arms, a huge grin playing across his lips. With the way they were standing now, Peter’s chest was pressed delightfully against Tony’s – he felt each and every one of Tony’s inhales of oxygen and exhales of carbon dioxide that brought Peter’s attention to the firm muscles pressing and pulling the man’s abdomen. His breath caught when Tony palmed his cheek, their mouths mere inches apart. Despite not actually knowing each other, Peter felt comfortable in Tony’s embrace.

“Hey, Tony,” Peter finally replied after allowing his breath to mingle with Tony’s. As they stood there pressed together, neither could decipher where one started and the other began. The thought made his grin grow a little wider, the courage inside of him pulsing a little more boldly with life. “You were amazing up there.”

Tony remained perfectly still; his limbs seemingly frozen in a clench to keep Peter close to him. His grip was firm, both the hand on Peter’s hip and his late day stubbled cheek. Like the man himself, Tony’s touch left something behind that kept Peter on the hook, always seeking more. He half expected for Tony to lean in and slot their lips together – his deepest desires and tangible wants were starting to collide in such close proximity.

Instead, Peter’s smile was returned with quirked cheeks and bright hazel eyes. “You weren’t too bored?” Tony asked, his voice soft in the small space between them. His thumb swiped constantly across Peter’s cheek, the obvious need to move apparent, even in such an intimate situation.

Chuckling lightly, Peter shook his head. “So far from bored. My thesis research is all about sustainable energy – you had me interested from the very beginning,” Peter replied almost immediately, not caring that his excitement clearly shone through in the pitch of his voice. The way he was leaning into Tony’s touch, Peter didn’t have much of a chance to disguise his truth, anyway.

“You’re so much smarter than you give yourself credit for – I can tell already.” Tony’s words were mumbled almost as if the older man was embarrassed to say them – to hand out such a compliment to someone other than himself. And yet – Tony’s hesitation made the statement mean so much more; the rarity of such kind words (despite being spoken so softly) did nothing but make Peter want to melt into Tony even further.

Before things could get too mushy or physical, Peter took a large step out of Tony’s arms – begrudgingly, the need for space was prominent if they ever wanted the night to continue. Never mind the fact that paparazzi were constantly hounding and following Tony wherever the man went. Though he was deemed an appropriate companion at the time, Peter was more than sure the public would not agree.

With that thought in mind, Peter shot Tony a shy smile – “I’m pretty famished. Want to show me what Hogan’s is all about?”

They spent the ten-minute walk talking about the presentation – Tony grilled Peter about a few of the technical parts, while Peter drooled a little bit over the projected uses of Tony’s new energy storage and production. Like two nerdy peas in a pod, neither could help themselves – geeking out and talking about something they were both interested in made the rest of the world melt away. Peter might’ve kept on his tangent if it weren’t for a tall, thickly built man clearing his throat.

Looking up at the noise, Peter realized they’d walked a few blocks already and were standing in the lobby of a well-maintained hole in the wall that radiated the most delicious smells. Grease and cheese and freshly dropped French fries hit his senses all at once – there was no doubt that whatever they were about to consume would be more than delicious.

Peter was seconds away from wiping drool from his chin when Tony broke out into action. He took the couple of steps between their current position and the hostess stand to wrap who could only be Happy in a firm, breathtaking hug. “Happy, my man. It’s so good to see you,” Tony exclaimed as he stepped away, an adorable look in his eyes. “I’ve been talking this place up to Peter here, thought I’d cash in on your good will.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on Peter – Tony looked at him like something he couldn’t wait to deconstruct, while Happy tilted his head curiously, as if the one glance would tell him all he needed to know about Peter Parker. Unwillingly to stand there like an animal on display, Peter broke through the weird with a soft laugh and a light wave.

“Nice to meet you, Happy. Tony’s been selling me on your food for days now. I can’t wait to try it,” Peter said, his shoulders rolling back to help him stand a little taller. Though he had nothing to prove to the total stranger in front of him, Peter couldn’t help but want to make a good impression – Happy obviously meant something to Tony; their comradery and easy affection said that without much effort.

There was a moment where all three guys seemed to look between each other – Peter watched with bated breath as Tony and Happy carried on a silent conversation with just a few blinks and forehead crinkles. By the time Peter understood what was happening, Happy stepped a little closer to him, his big hand reaching out for what could only be a handshake. Without hesitating, Peter took it – for whatever reason, the handshake felt monumental; like with the one touch, he beat the level boss and gained access to the next one.

“Good to meet you, too. Tony’s good about that sort of advertisement – we probably wouldn’t have made it without his ugly mug around at the beginning,” Happy replied. “You guys know what you want? I’ll get it on the grill personally.”

At that point, Tony stepped back into the spotlight and grabbed the reins – he ordered everything at rapid fire speed, like the menu existed as a hard copy in Tony’s mind. Considering the warmth of the older man’s welcome and Happy’s cryptic words, Peter didn’t doubt that Tony was a regular – more than likely a founding customer, even.

It took no time at all for their food to come out to the small table in the corner Tony led him to. The tray was piled with an abundance of food – cheese steaks, fries, burgers, even a couple of desserts littered the table as Tony unpacked their haul. Peter’s eyes were wide, his mouth watering with a want that only Zap’s Bodega could illicit before. “This – it all looks amazing,” Peter babbled, his stomach both hungry and overwhelmed by everything in front of him.

“Just wait until you taste it. Happy used to crank out these cheesesteaks on the little hot plate we had in our dorm room. They were excellent, but the addition of the flattop has made them unbeatable.”

Unable to decide what smelled the best, Peter grabbed whatever was nearest to him. His fingers wrapped around the greasy paper of the aforementioned cheesesteak, his mouth watering even more. “So, you and Happy were roommates at MIT?” Peter asked around a large bite, the food in his mouth muffling some of the words. It really was good – worth looking like a pig in front of the most beautiful man alive.

“Hap and I go way back. His father worked security at Stark Industries – he was on my dad’s personal protection team for most of my life. When Happy’s mom died and the need for babysitting became a thing, Happy started to spend the evenings with me after school. In a lot of ways, he’s the only family I’ve ever had. When he first opened up this place, I was young and just looking for some investment that would piss my dad off. I knew Happy had talent, but neither of us thought this place would blow up the way it did.” Tony looked up then, a vulnerability in his eyes. “We’ve been in business together ever since.”

Smiling encouragingly, Peter nodded in Tony’s direction – their closeness, Tony’s unwavering advertisement and protectiveness, even some of the food names he could see on the menu; it all made sense. After taking another bite of the cheesesteak, Peter chewed slowly before responding. “There’s always more to the story, right?” he questioned cheekily. “It sounds like your gamble worked out for you – I didn’t look at the menu, but I did Google Hogan’s; there’s ten locations within a 300-mile radius.”

A snort had Peter looking up, his eyebrows quirked. “I should’ve known,” Tony said through a laugh. “Your generation is all about instant gratification.”

Their eyes locked then, Tony’s words and their meaning sitting in the space between them. Peter forced himself not to blink – he wanted to memorize the rich hazel color that barely ringed a growing pupil. Hunger and want and something unrecognizable existed in Tony’s glance; when it was all over and Tony moved on, Peter desperately wanted to remember the genuine rawness he drew out of one of the world’s greatest minds.

“Or just impatience,” Peter countered. He drew his eyes away, needing to break the glance to stop himself from propelling himself across the table and tackle Tony to the ground. Though it looked as if Happy kept the place spick and span, Peter didn’t want to think about Tony’s expensive suit on any other floor aside from his own.

They attempted to pull the small talk back to something a little tamer, but the road of the rest of the evening had already been paved. It became harder to focus on anything other than the thick press of Tony’s thigh against his own under the table. As the minutes passed, Peter noticed Tony staring, and after a while, the older man just never stopped. Every time he looked up, Peter caught hazel eyes taking him in – undressing him button by button with the sheer want in his eyes. A red blush took up permanent residence on Peter’s cheeks and neck, the color following him out of the restaurant and out onto the street where Tony took his hand without hesitation.

Before his mom passed away, Peter remembered a softly mumbled conversation laying across both his parents early, early in the morning. His dad’s big fingers were wrapped so neatly around his mother’s, the embrace tight, despite the hour. Peter reached out to touch the unbreakable seam, his eyes wide with wonder. “They fit,” Peter whispered softly, his finger running reverently over their joint fingers.

His mother pulled him close then, her lips finding that special place on his cheek. “One day, Petey, you’ll find that perfect person whose hands will fit yours just the way your father’s fit mine.”

A warmth settled in Peter’s chest as he slid his hand into Tony’s, their fingers interlacing perfectly with ease. The immaculate fit of Tony’s hand pressing against his own made him snuggle in further – whatever happened between them after this, Peter would forever know how easily he and Tony Stark fit together.

Giving Tony’s fingers a squeeze at the thought, Peter looked up, breaking the silence – “Do you want to see my apartment? I’m sure it’s not nearly as fancy as the hotel you’re staying at, but I’ve got Netflix and a really comfortable couch.”

Tony took a few long strides to answer, his face a little pensive. “I’d love to see your apartment, Pete,” Tony replied easily. They came to a stop at the crosswalk – Tony used his momentum to pull Peter close to his chest while they waited out the light. “I don’t care about fancy. You’ll be there.”

While Peter had lots of things to reply, his words were cut off by slightly chapped lips eagerly pressing against his own. It took Peter a second to recognize what in the glorious hell was happening – when the reality of the situation finally registered, Peter surged forward, tilting his head to not only return the kiss, but deepen it.

Both of Peter’s hands found their way around Tony’s neck to keep him close – he felt like he might pass out from the sheer goodness of Tony surrounding him without the grounding touch. He was far from a virgin, but none of his previous encounters knocked him off his feet in such a way that made Peter feel like a fumbling newbie.

Sipping from each other’s mouths, Peter was surprised by a strange and unrecognizable voice coming from behind them – “the light’s changed, fellas.”

It took an obscene amount of effort to pull away – though the stranger’s words made his face burn with embarrassment, Peter was reluctant to step out of Tony’s embrace and the tantalizing press of warm lips against his own. Regardless of his trepidation, Peter reluctantly moved back.

He made sure to slip his hand into Tony’s before they set off again.

“I’m just another couple of blocks away,” Peter reassured, a hungry smirk on his face. Tony returned the look, their stride all of the sudden lengthening. Their walk turned from a leisurely stroll to a brisk half-run. If it weren’t for the want raging through Peter’s veins, he might’ve found the change hilarious. In all of their time together, Tony never expressed impatience – he always seemed calm, cool, and collected. Yet, in the face of heat and need and the promise of bare skin, Tony let that mask drop.

Happy to know a new something about Tony, Peter reveled in the pent-up silence that carried them back to his apartment. Snagging a ground floor unit close to the entrance, they luckily didn’t have to wait for an elevator or awkwardly pretend that they weren’t about to push the other against the wall and start ravaging whatever pieces of skin they could find. Instead, Peter impatiently pulled Tony behind him as they walked between building 1 and 2 with eager steps.

After some fumbling and a set of dropped keys, Peter finally got his door open and Tony through it. Without missing a beat, Tony pushed him back against the newly closed front door, their lips harshly joining. Groaning at the contact and suddenness of it all, Peter pulled Tony in – any space left between them was unacceptable now that they were in a private space where wandering eyes and clicking cameras couldn’t see. Their obvious passion was too much for the public eye; Peter so desperately wanted to keep Tony to himself – devouring him in a safe space was only the first step.

As Tony traced his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, Peter fumbled his hands down the older man’s chest until he could pull the crisp button-down from well-tailored pants. The second he was able, Peter shoved his hands under the soft fabric, his palms greedily pressing into Tony’s hairy chest. A groan left his mouth – the chest hair under his fingers was soft and teasing. Peter was caught between the urge to tug at the strands and lay his head gently against them just to feel the texture against his skin.

Tony made the decision for him – large hands were suddenly on Peter’s waist, his feet coming up off the ground with little effort. Unable to keep his hands where they were, Peter broke the kiss with a groan and shifted until he could wrap his legs around Tony’s hips. Peter panted for breath while his lips were still free as Tony navigated through the room blindly. Another soft moan left Peter’s lips when his back hit the pliable leather of his couch.

Where just moments before they were standing chest to chest, Peter now had the full weight of Tony against him. The older man fit seamlessly between his splayed thighs, their hips lining up in a way that made Peter’s cock pulse against the confines of his tight jeans. With a bit of shifting, their groins were matched – Tony’s thick cock felt sinful against Peter’s. If his impending orgasm was already upon him, Peter wondered what it’d be like when their clothes hit the floor and he really got to taste what Tony had to offer.

Like he was reading his mind, Tony made quick work of the buttons on Peter’s shirt. Calloused hands dragged up and down Peter’s bare chest as he pushed the navy fabric to the side – his skin was practically hairless, the only exception being a small trail of it leading down to the v of his jeans. Tony let his fingers play through that small amount of hair, his fingers teasing as they got closer to the one spot that Peter wanted him to be the most.

Deciding to take his mind off of the heat in his belly and the closeness of his orgasm, Peter returned the favor. His hands were shaky as he passed button after button through their holes. With a gasp, Peter spread the sides of Tony’s shirt to get the maximum impact of the older man’s torso. He liked what he felt before, but the view was something else – Tony’s chest was chiseled and cut, his pecs and abs straining with effort. Peter noticed throbbing veins and a few scars in his perusal; the evidence of Tony’s life and the way he lived it made Peter pull the man a little closer. Tony Stark drove him absolutely mad – every new thing he learned contributed to the insanity even more.

Before he could get lost in the thought, Tony’s lips were skating along his cheek, only to stop and caress the outer shell of Peter’s ear. “You feel amazing, Pete,” Tony babbled, his tongue peeking out to join in on the fun. “I want to taste you, feel your cock pulse against my tongue. You’re so fucking hard and I can’t fucking wait. Is that okay?”

Peter pulled back then, a soft grin pulling at his lips. In all of his sexual encounters, Peter couldn’t recall someone caring about him so thoroughly, let alone stopping to ask how he felt. Both hands came up to grip Tony’s cheeks until the older man was looking right at him. Through the haze of arousal, Peter recognized that warm spark in Tony’s eye – it was the look in that first picture that kept Peter coming back for more.

“It’s perfect, Tony. I’ll take anything you want to give me,” Peter said breathlessly. He leaned up for a kiss to drive the words home.

Tony looked genuinely happy when Peter pulled away – his cheeks were flushed with obvious arousal, his lips quirked in a saucy smile. Without saying anything, Tony nodded his head and travelled slowly down the length of Peter’s body. Nimble fingers made quick work of the button and zipper of his jeans before Peter could think or even draw his next breath.

Sturdy hands didn’t hesitate to pull at the waistband of Peter’s boxers – his flushed cock was already leaking as it came to rest casually against the firm abs of Peter’s chest. Tony’s calloused fingers immediately wrapped around the length, giving a tight squeeze to the base. The sheer feeling of his crush’s hands on him was almost enough for Peter to jump straight over the edge. Catching Tony’s eyes and biting down on his bottom lip was his only saving grace – the knowing look in beautiful hazel eyes pulled a chuckle from Peter’s chest, the noise distraction enough.

“Okay?” Tony asked again, the words were spoken with his mouth hovering just inches from the pulsing flesh of Peter’s cock. He could feel Tony’s breath against his sensitive skin, everything about the situation making it hard to articulate or think or exist as anything other than a melted puddle of goo against broken-in leather.

Peter took a couple of deep breaths before nodding vigorously. He felt a red flush travel even further down his neck and torso, arousal and embarrassment mixing together to create the ultimate aphrodisiac. He finally found his voice, muttering a choked off “yes” before the motor function of speaking left him once more.

After a heartbeat and then another where neither man moved, Tony gripped the sharp bones of Peter’s hips, pushing his lower body down against the cushions. They shared another look as Tony lowered his head, his pink tongue poking out to lick lightly against the leaky head of Peter’s cock. Hazel eyes stayed on him – Tony continued to lap along his sensitive skin, all while killing Peter slowly with the heat and want reflecting back. By the time Tony had all of Peter in his mouth, Peter was seconds away from being undone.

It’d been so long, and he’d wanted Tony since he understood what attraction was. Being pinned down by the person he desired longer than some of his friendships did nothing but magnify everything that was happening. His skin felt like it was on fire under Tony’s touch – the suction around his cock felt like it was coming from all angles, everywhere, all at once. Unable to stop himself, Peter moaned, panted, and shamelessly shouted Tony’s name as the blissful seconds passed.

The telling zip of a zipper being pushed down, and Tony’s hasty shift told Peter that Tony was similarly affected. He picked up his head to watch Tony suck his cock down while his right hand moved at the same pace – while he took Peter’s cock into his throat, Tony was stroking his own erection with sure strokes. As if the heat around him wasn’t enough, the beautiful visual of Tony taking his own pleasure pushed him those last couple of steps over the edge.

Bubbling heat in his belly boiled over. Peter frantically reached down to grip Tony’s shoulder, his mouth wordlessly shaping around warning words. “I’m – I’m… fuck, Tony. I’m going to cum,” Peter finally managed to gasp out. There was just enough time for Tony to pull away, to let Peter’s pleasure splatter on the blood warm skin of Peter’s stomach. Yet, Tony held fast, instead – he redoubled his efforts, his lips tightening and throat relaxing in invitation.

Unable to stop himself, Peter let go – his hips thrust up into Tony’s enticing heat, the man’s name dripping from his lips as pulse after pulse of cum left his body. Tony moaned around him, swallowing easily without pulling his mouth away or stopping his ministrations. The suction continued until Peter was reaching down halfheartedly to push at Tony’s soft curls.

While he caught his breath, Tony crawled up Peter’s body, a self-satisfied smirk on his red cheeks. Peter grinned at him, happiness and satiation rolling off of him in waves. Without thought, Peter pulled Tony tightly to him, their lips finding each other like opposite poles of magnets drawn together by the sheer force of nature. Tony shared Peter’s taste with him, his talented tongue thrusting into Peter’s mouth with a shared groan between them. It was all so hot; Peter felt his spent cock already starting to come back to life.

With that thought in mind, Peter started to reach down to help Tony finish achieving his own pleasure; yet his hand was batted away with affectionate finesse. Peter shifted until he could meet the honey hazels he was already addicted to, a question in his eye.

“There’s no need,” Tony mumbled, his face tucking into the skin of Peter’s neck. “You’re so sexy, I couldn’t help but touch myself. The way you look in the throes of pleasure – it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“Holy shit.”

Tony chuckled at the awe in Peter’s voice. “My sentiment exactly.”

For a while, they stayed stretched out on Peter’ couch, exchanging kisses and greedy touches on all the bare skin either could reach. Without so much adrenaline coursing through his system, Peter felt himself melting even further into the comfy cushions below him. After a jaw breaking yawn, Peter reached up to cup Tony’s cheek, pulling the man’s attention towards him.

“Want to stay over?” Peter asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. Though they were spent and wrapped up in each other, Peter wasn’t sure where Tony stood. There was a big difference between the type of intimacy physical touch and sleeping next to another human being required. The last few days, Peter fell asleep with Tony’s messages open on the bed next to him – actually sleeping side by side, in person, that was a whole new step for them.

Tilting his head to the side, Tony shot Peter a tender smile before nodding and leaning down to press their lips together.

“Yeah, Pete – I want to stay.”

#starker #starkerfestivalsevents #starker festivals summer bingo #bobbie writes #let me get close to #peter parker/tony stark #starker fic #sfsummerbingo21

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slipping-through-my-fingertips · 3 years ago

Text

Guess I Misunderstood

Part 2 of Not the One series.

Summary: Kurt's trying a find a way to end things with Adam and Blaine Anderson is one of the reasons why.

Notes: Open for more prompts in this 'verse but I only intended it to be 2 parts of a two-sided story. I hope you enjoy.

Read Part 1 here

AO3

The first time Kurt saw Blaine Anderson, he was spying on the bulletin boards. He, like every other Apple, was worried about how many freshmen they could pull this semester. With a majority of the current Adam’s Apples being seniors, they needed to fill those spots with freshmen. Better to round them up this year so they’ll already have a year of acapella under their belts.

He's just standing there reading all the flyers. Kurt’s trying to look busy with his phone to not draw attention. But he can’t help but access this man.

Firstly, Kurt doesn't recognize him so he assumes this is a freshman, exactly the demographic their flyers are trying to bring in. The second thing that makes this man stand out among the others Kurt’s observed thus far is how nicely dressed he is. It is the first day of school so one would think a little effort would be put in but some boys their age won’t even put on a stain-free shirt to come to school. Luckily, most NYADA students care about their appearances, this freshman is no exception.

He’s wearing tightly fitted, dark green, capri pants and a crisp, white, collared polo.

Then his hand is reaching up to the green flyer Kurt designed.

He takes it.

YES!

Kurt tries to collect himself when he walks over to the boards. Don’t scare him away is his new mantra.

“The Apples?” He asks.

The freshman was shy at first probably because he didn’t expect to be approached. Before he answers Kurt, he does manage to meet his eyes.

Well, Kurt thought, if he sings as well as he looks the Apples could make Nationals.

In the past, Kurt would’ve berated himself for checking out guys while being in a relationship but he’s becoming less sure about Adam lately. His boyfriend is becoming a bit pushy about things like this. But Kurt isn’t about to stop doing it. If Adam really trusted him, he could see all of this was harmless.

The guy was gorgeous, no one should really blame Kurt for staring. His bowtie added a dash of adorableness, which would only draw Kurt in closer if he was single. Which he is decidedly not.

“I love to sing.”

Kurt could certainly relate. That’s how he got involved with glee clubs in the first place. Hell, that’s what got him to New York.

“Me too,” he said, “I’ll see you at auditions, break a leg.”

Only while he was walking away did Kurt curse himself for not catching the man’s name.

Before he knew it, they reached the point in the school year—day two—where Rachel was would start harassing him about “getting his name out there” and listing off all the auditions she had lined up. The only way Kurt could hear another word of this was over coffee so he dragged Rachel there before his class. This meant she had exactly 35 minutes to talk at him about it until he inevitably came home for the night and had to share the loft with her. Halfway through the conversation, he notices a finely dressed young man in line.

He’s not ashamed to admit the man’s best asset drew his attention. Though it wasn’t a difficult feat considering Power-Hungry Rachel was his other option.

Thankfully, her time was running out, “Rach, I’ll see you at home, I have Tibideaux.”

With one last look at the man, Kurt rushes off to class.

When Adam’s Apples auditions are up and running, Kurt is fuming. His boyfriend thought the perfect time to discuss their future as a couple was directly before they had to sit on their asses for 3 hours listening to a bunch of freshmen sing their hearts out.

Of course, they fought over it. Kurt was pissed about the timing, Adam thought he was being careless about their future plans because he refused to talk about it.

“I’m refusing to do it publicly when we have obligations!” Kurt had told him.

He had stormed into the empty auditorium at that point, casting aside Adam’s idea to move away after graduation for the moment, and sat in the third row. Unable to take a hint, Adam sat beside him.

Kurt was barely able to pay attention to the singers until Blaine. Once again, the man was pleasantly dressed. This time in bright yellow capris and a lovely yellow and blue bowtie. Kurt wondered if he had an affinity for them.

Adam coughed next to him, Kurt reverted his eyes. For the rest of the song, he was trying not to stare because Adam didn’t need another reason to blame Kurt for their relationship problems. When Blaine was finished, they clapped, Adam leaned in, “I’m sorry, you’re right.” In reply, Kurt kissed his cheek.

Knowing a simple kiss could smooth things over for now. They obviously had a lot to discuss.

As school picked up, Kurt mostly forgot about his little soft spot for Blaine until he was pulling a tipsy Adam off of the Lion’s Den dance floor Saturday night.

They knew their potential new recruits would be at Callbacks, Kurt wanted none of that. If they were going to celebrate the first week of classes as a couple, he wasn’t about to be interrupted by a drunk NYADA student begging to know how their glee audition went. So he was here and apparently so was Blaine.

He almost turned right around wanting to ignore the man. This is the exact situation he was trying to avoid. But Adam pulled him forward, slurring “bar’s this way.”

Kurt tried to catch his eye from across the bar but instead watched as Blaine slung his drink back and paid his tab. By the time Adam was finished ordering, Blaine was gone.

The fourth time Kurt thought he’d see Blaine never came.

Kurt had posted the Adam’s Apples list of new recruits himself. Blaine Anderson was at the top. Alphabetically speaking. Yet, he never showed up to their first rehearsal. Everyone else had come. It was difficult to listen to Adam’s introductory speech when he kept waiting for Blaine to walk through the auditorium doors.

He never did. Did Tuesdays at 7 not work for his schedule?

They sat in a circle on stage playing ice breakers, learning each other’s names and special interests in regards to their studies at NYADA.

When rehearsal ends, Adam tapped his shoulder, “you seem distracted, what’s up?”

Kurt remembers what Drunk Adam told him on Saturday and lies, “nothing, I’m fine. Just something Rachel said.”

“Well,” Adam helped him up, “don’t worry too much about her. Before you know it, you and I will be taking on the West End.”

He smiles until Adam turns away.

When Adam had first said they should move, Kurt thought he meant out of the heart of the city. Which was something he could understand. If Kurt’s dreams of starting a family someday were to be met, he saw the appeal of a move. It never crossed his mind that Adam meant to move across the ocean.

When they first started talking, Kurt loved the allure of an older man. Being a freshman at the time, Kurt had been desperate to fit in in ways he never could at McKinley. So when Adam took him under his wing, showed him the ropes of NYADA and New York, it was only a matter of time before Kurt had a crush on him. Initially, Adam was too busy for a relationship, he had told Kurt as much so Kurt keep the crush to himself...and Rachel.

When NYADA’s spring formal rolled around, Kurt was already planning on going with his roommate. Rachel had been trying him to match in a terrible shade of pink. It didn’t go well with either of their complexions. The text came in mid-argument about their outfits.

Adam: wanna go to formal?

Kurt dropped his phone. Luckily, he was sitting on the couch and it fell onto the cushion. Rachel, of course, knew something was wrong because Kurt paused in the middle of yelling at her about the tackiness of matching when they could complement each other instead.

“What’s up?” she asked, leaning in to glance at his phone, “it’s not your dad, right?”

“No, no, no,” Kurt assured her, tilting his screen so she could read the message.

“OH!” she squealed, jumping up. “Tell him yes!”

“He probably isn’t asking me, just wants to know if I’ll be there.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, “don’t stupid, Kurt.”

Ignoring her, Kurt texted back and slumped down.

Kurt: Rachel and I are going to go together, yes

Instantly, another text came in.

Adam: Would Rachel be upset if I took you instead?

Rachel was biting her lip excitedly. Practically dancing as she sat on the couch next to him.

Kurt: I think she’d be delighted. As would I.

The two of them did some jumping up and down together before Kurt settled back onto the couch, holding his phone to his chest.

“Guess that means I can wear pink if I want to,” Rachel said before disappearing into her bedroom.

But that was then. It had been a long time since Kurt felt butterflies in his stomach when he thought about Adam. He never thought they’d completely disappear but these last few months he felt stagnant. When he expressed these concerns to his boyfriend, Adam’s solution was, once again, to move across the pond.

Like that would solve their issues.

That wasn’t what Kurt had meant by stagnant but Adam kept going on and on about how New York may be the city that never sleeps but he couldn’t wait to get back to the excitement of London.

Kurt could never see himself moving so far away from his dad or his friends. New York had become his home these last three years. Maybe Adam always dreamed of going back to the UK but he had never told Kurt that explicitly until the start of this semester. Dating for 2 years and it never came up.

By the time they were having their fifth fight about this, Kurt knew they were going to have to break up. It was just a matter of when.

The actual fourth time Kurt saw Blaine Anderson was two weeks before Thanksgiving break.

He was sitting in a corner of the library. Sheets of music spread across his lap. Titling his head so a single black curl dangled in his face. Blaine keeps blowing the curl away to no avail. It took everything in Kurt to not laugh.

Adorable.

Kurt wasn’t really here to study. He finished up his assignments for the weekend. There was a major test next week for one of Rachel’s classes. She was in a study group and forgot her yellow notebook so Kurt offered to bring it to her.

Wasn’t it just his luck that Blaine Anderson was here? Right in his line of sight. The universe must be having fun with him tonight. He was about to go home to an empty apartment and write a breakup speech for Adam.

Kurt had plans to talk with his day over Thanksgiving break—Burt insisted on planning for his flight. He just needed someone, not Rachel, to tell him it was the right choice. For so long, Adam, being his first boyfriend, made Kurt feel like he owed it to Adam to continue this. Kurt had just reached the end of his rope.

He did end up talking to his dad about everything other than the impending breakup. In fact, Kurt couldn’t seem to get Blaine’s name out of his mouth.

“We had this really talented singer come in for auditions, dad,” Kurt said. “Blaine Anderson, he’s a freshman.”

“Oh yeah?”

This was the second time Kurt had brought this up.

“He’s going to do big things someday.”

By the fourth time, Blaine’s name was mentioned, which was a lot of times for a man Kurt had only spoken to once, Burt had something to say about it.

“You gonna ask him out, bud, or just keep talking to me?”

Kurt paused, blushed, and stumbled out a “no.”

“No what? You won’t ask him or he won’t go out with you.”

“Dad,” Kurt said, “both of those imply, I do ask him out.”

“Well, you should.” Burt shrugged. “You clearly like him.”

His dad did always know how to read him. This wasn’t the time to remind Burt of his boyfriend. Of whom, Burt was indifferent. Dating for years and Adam couldn’t seem to break down Burt’s overprotective walls.

Now that Kurt was alone in their apartment thinking of those conversations. All of them. Every single time he had asked Burt about Adam or called his dad after a ridiculous fight. How many of those conversations contain happy stories?

Kurt and Adam had loads of good times but none that he ever shared with his dad, no memories that become inside jokes, nothing like that.

It was the Monday after Thanksgiving, Rachel was in class, Adam’s professor had let them out earlier, and Kurt had an empty apartment.

Kurt: let’s get coffee

Adam: Be there in ten

When Kurt came back, he was a single man in New York once again.

The fifth time, Kurt saw Blaine Anderson was on purpose. He meant to run into him in the NYADA auditorium. Kurt had asked around and found out Blaine had joined a different glee club. Amy said they rehearsed on Wednesdays and Blaine was always there a half-hour earlier to warm-up alone.

Sure enough, Blaine was center stage pacing in a circle doing one of Rachel’s favorite scales. Kurt is creeping in from one of the back entrances. Slowly, he makes his way up to the stage unsure if he wants Blaine to notice him or not.

Eventually, he reaches a moment when he has to say something. About fifteen feet from the stage, Kurt speaks up, “you’re very talented, you know?”

Blaine looks down at him, a quick smile, and blushes, “thanks.”

“We were sad to not see you at rehearsals but The Singsations benefit greatly.”

“Yeah, I felt bad about it…” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “but it just wasn’t going to work.”

“Well,” Kurt replied, “acapella isn’t for everyone.”

“Funny enough, it wasn’t the acapella part.”

At that, Kurt’s not sure what to say. He wants to ask what the problem was then.

“Sorry, did you just come here to ask why I didn’t join the Apples?” Blaine asked.

“Um no, Amy said you warm up here before rehearsals.” Which was Kurt’s way of stalling. “I…”

This is exactly why Kurt hadn’t had a boyfriend before Adam: he was too nervous to make the first move.

Blaine is sitting on the edge of the stage now so they’re almost level. Kurt could just push his legs apart, stand between them, and kiss him. That’s all he wants to do.

“I’ve seen you around campus a lot.” Four times.

“Me too,” Blaine said, which has Kurt smirking slightly. So he did notice him too. Then Blaine continues and knocks that smirk right off his face, “how’s your boyfriend?”

Well, Kurt should’ve expected that blow. His and Adam’s relationship was pretty well-known. In just two weeks since the breakup, Kurt’s surprised more people aren’t gossiping about it.

Honesty is the best policy, right?

“We broke up.”

“Oh,” Blaine replied, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Are you?” Kurt asked, “because I’m not sorry at all. I should’ve done it sooner. We weren’t meant to be together as long as we were.”

“You broke up with him?” Blaine asked, confused. “But you seemed so in love.”

“A year ago, I would’ve agreed with you but one too many problems later it was never going to work,” Kurt told him, “but that’s not why I’m here either.”

“So, why are you here? I was pretty sure you didn’t know I existed.”

“I definitely do,” Kurt said, “and now it’s my turn to ask if you’re single.”

Blaine blushed again, “Not sure that’s what I meant earlier.”

“It’s what I meant.”

“I’m not seeing anyone right now, I’ve been pining after this upperclassman who was with someone.”

“Oh yeah?” Kurt asked.

“Yeah.”

Kurt took a step closer and placed his palms on Blaine’s knees.

“Well, I think he likes you too.”

Then, he pushes his legs open with no resistance from Blaine. It isn’t Kurt who leans in first though.

#klaine fanfiction #klaine fanfic #klaine #my fics #not the one

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justcourttee · 4 years ago

Note

If you take request how about Class, Bustier, Lila, Adrien salt! Lila had a cousin back in Italy who is a master in manipulations but contrary to Lila with her lies, he use his manipulation skills to help others and he REALLY despite Lila. Back when Marinette was in high school junior she got a pen pal from Italy and this pen pal is Lila's cousin, through their letters the two become friends and even stay in contact for years and Lila's cousin got a crush for Marinette. (part 1)

One day Lila's cousin goes to Paris to finally meet Marinette who is very happy to finally meet her pen pal. Later he learn that Lila is in the same class than her(he know that Lila goes to a school in France but didn't know it was the same school than Mari's)and is worried since he know Lila's antics. And when he learn about the bullying Mari is victim at school because of Lila's lies and he is like "OH HECK NO!". (Part 2)

He use his manipulation skills to protect Marinette and to take down Lila. Not even Adrien or Bustier's BS can stop him. Him and Mari become closer day by day and become a couple. After Lila is exposed for everything, even for being Hawkmoth's minion, and is arrested, the class try to confront Lila's cousin and to talk to Mari but Lila's cousin shut them down and give them a good big "the reason why you suck speech". BONUS: Lila's cousin join the miraculous team. (Part 3)

(I couldn’t figure out how to combine the three asks so I copy and paste them)

Ooo, I love a good salt fic. I hope this is kind of what you had in mind :) @sayuricorner

The PenPal

Marinette knew two things when the day started.

1, She was beyond ecstatic to finally meet her PenPal, Mateo, face to face 2, She was beyond worried that somehow, someway Lila Rossi would mess it up

Mateo had been assigned as her PenPal from Italy as a part of their foreign language class to help improve her Italian and his french. They only had to write back and forth until the semester ended, but as it came and went, she found herself intrigued by the Italian boy. Today was their three-year friendaversary and to mark the special occasion, Mateo was coming to Paris.

Marinette bounced on the balls of her feet outside her parent's bakery, her eyes darting up and down the street, trying to find anyone that could be heading in her direction. Pulling out her phone, she checked the time.

3:00p.m.

His plane landed at 2:15p.m. He said he was leaving the airport at 2:50p.m. The airport was approximately ten minutes from her parent's bakery. Any minute now he should be here.

“Marinette!” Sabine poked her head out of the bakery, her eyes landing on her daughter, a knowing smile plastered across her face.

“Marinette, I know your boyfriend will be here any minute, but you still need to get ready for your school dance tonight. It starts at 6 and you still haven’t decided if you want me to do your hair or not.”

“Maman,” she couldn’t help the whine that entered her voice. Her parents were literally the worst when it came to boys. “He’s not my boyfriend, he’s-”

“Just a friend. Yes, I’m well aware of the drill. Well, I’m just letting you know, if he’s not here in the next ten minutes, maybe you should come inside and let me get started.”

Marinette nodded before returning to her search of the streets.

“Did you lose someone signora?”

“Oh no, monsieur. I’m just looking for my Italian friend. He’s supposed to be coming in today, hey wait a moment-”

Her eyes widened slightly as she whipped her head around to come face to face with him.

“Mateo?”

“Pleased to finally meet you Marinette.”

Marinette’s face broke into a grin as she flung her arms around his neck. Pulling back, she brushed a few stray hairs out of her face, completely oblivious to the shade of red the boy’s face had turned.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here! Did you remember to pack a suit? I mean I had your dimensions and made you one just in case but I just can’t believe you’re here. How was your flight? How’d you get here? Taxi? Uber?”

Marinette bit her lip trying to stop the word vomit that was falling out of her mouth.

“I’m sorry. I’m just so excited to finally meet you.”

“It’s fine, really. I’m overwhelmed as well. I mean I knew you were beautiful, but seeing you in person?” Mateo reached down to pick up her hand, bringing it to his lips softly.

“Marinette? Oh! Well, hello.”

Mateo dropped her hand quickly, both of their faces flushed red. Sabine leaned against the doorframe, that same knowing look from before creeping onto her face much to Marinette’s distress.

“Maman, this is Mateo. Mateo this is my Maman.” Her voice was strained as she tried to beg Sabine not to embarrass her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you signora.” Mateo smoothly lifted Sabine’s hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“Oh, Italian! Well, young man, the pleasure is all mine. Now let’s get you kids inside, we have so much to do in such little time.”

Without thinking twice, Marinette grabbed Mateo’s hand, dragging the blushing boy behind her. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Don’t forget to call me when it’s over! I don’t want you kids walking home in the dark!”

Marinette waved as she pulled away, her eyes rolling at her mother’s invasive tactics.

“She does know we’re 17 right?”

Marinette shook her head before threading her arm through his.

“Don’t mind her, she can be overbearing and invasive, but it’s all with love. Especially with Papa away at the moment visiting his mother.”

“Oh I don’t mind, it’s best to get on your future in law's good side now. It’ll make things so much smoother in the future.”

He sent a wink in her direction earning him an elbow in the side and the most precious laughter he had ever heard.

“You’re such a flirt! C’mon, let’s get inside before you-know-who shows up.”

Mateo did in fact know who. Some girl that moved here while Marinette was 14 and had been making her life a living hell since. He couldn’t imagine what kind of person could hate a kind-hearted person like his friend, but he was determined to put an end to it tonight.

As soon as they entered the courtyard, Marinette was swept away by two intense-looking girls, both cutting him a glare in the process. Mateo soon found himself by the punch table, taking in the sights of the dance. He was just about to step away to look for Marinette when a loud crash caught his attention.

“How DARE you ruin Lila’s dress?”

Lila? No, God, it couldn’t be.

As Mateo stepped forward, his eyes landed on a small girl with dark hair and glasses, an empty cup in her hand, and much to his horror, his cousin Lila Rossi standing behind her, crocodile tears pouring down her face.

“Marinette would never! She doesn’t even know where Lila got that utterly ridiculous dress from.”

The intimidating blonde from before stood in between the girl with the glasses and his poor friend, now soaked from the punch poured on her head.

Just as Mateo took a step forward to intervene, a blonde boy and an older woman stepped in between the girls, pulling them apart before anything further ensured.

“Marinette, you have to be the bigger person here. I can’t have you starting fights with your classmates. You know Lila has a lying disease, you can’t get angry with what she might spread.”

The teacher placed a fake supportive arm over Marinette’s shoulder, handing her napkins to help soak up some of the punch.

“Yeah, Marinette. We know how she is, we just have to take the higher road.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry girl. I just get so angry sometimes cause I can never tell when you’re just acting out of jealousy or if it’s her disease flaring up.”

Mateo felt his anger rising as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. Lila had no disease, she was just a good liar. He watched as the two girls escorted Marinette toward what he assumed were the bathrooms, leaving Lila to fake cry in the arms of the blonde boy.

It was one thing to take down her bully while he was here for the week, but Lila Rossi was a different story. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mateo sat up near the DJ, eyeing his first target. A small blonde girl and her goth friend. They looked easy enough to sway, not quite swarming Lila like the rest of the class, but not exactly rushing to Marinette’s defense either. Placing his phone against his ear, he walked toward them, a smirk plastered across his face.

“-I’m sorry Prince Ali. I know Lila promised to help you with your rounds at the Children’s Hospital tonight but she’s just too busy at this school dance. I understand your disappointment, I too am disappointed. Well, what can I say except that call me next time. I’ll be there friend.”

He slipped his phone into his back pocket letting out a long sigh. He turned to face the blonde, her interest piqued as her eyebrows furrowed.

“Were you just on the phone with Prince Ali? Talking about Lila Rossi? How do you know them?” “Me?” Mateo dramatically looked behind him before leaning into where the blonde stood, her hand intertwined with the girl beside her. “Can I trust you with a secret?”

She nodded carefully, her eyes darting left and right as if someone was watching her.

Mateo slipped his phone out again pretending to search for a particular picture before turning it in Rose’s direction. On the screen stood an edited picture of him with his arm thrown around Prince Ali’s shoulders in front of a hospital, both wearing grand smiles. He swiped to the right showing a less ecstatic picture of him and Lila posing together as children.

“I’m Lila’s cousin, Mateo Rossi. Prince Ali is my best friend and has been for the past three years. I introduced him to Lila last year and she made a whole bunch of empty promises to him, you know, with her disease and all. It’s really tearing him up because he knows with her star power, she could really help the poor children, but alas, she never shows.”

The blonde seemed to doubt him for a moment, but as she scrolled through a couple more carefully edited pictures, her face dropped into one of sadness and anger.

“I can’t believe Lila lied to me about helping Prince Ali! She only met him two years ago?”

Mateo nodded sadly as if he couldn’t believe it either.

“Didn’t Lila say she knew him when she first got here? That was like three years ago.” The goth girl had spoken for the first time. It was quiet and difficult to make out, but the blonde understood and it only seemed to fuel her rage.

“I can’t believe I fell for it!”

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ve all been there before, sometimes you just have to take the higher road.”

Mateo smirked as he walked away, leaving the words Marinette’s classmates told her all these years to sink in with the girls as he looked for his next target. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The rest of the night continued on in the same manner. Mateo would listen in on group conversations, figure out what Lila had promised them, and moments later crush their dreams with a few carefully placed lies.

Pretty soon, all that was left was the girl with the glasses, the blonde boy, and Lila herself. Straightening his collar, Mateo shoved his hands in his pockets walking as calmly as he could to the group, his ever-present smirk widening at the sight of Lila’s panicked eyes.

As loudly as he could, Mateo shouted “Cousin!”, gaining the attention of everyone on the dance floor.

Lila seemed to pale quickly as she completed the embrace, her lips close to his ears as her panicked voice trembled.

“What are you doing Mateo?”

“Watch and learn.”

He pulled back, offering his hand to the girl with glasses who hesitantly reached out to shake it.

“Mateo Rossi, how are you doing tonight?”

“I’m fine.” The girl pulled back, her hesitancy and curiosity mixing.

“And you sir?” He reached his hand toward the blonde boy who gladly accepted it.

“Pretty great! I’m Adrien and this is Alya!”

Adrien and Alya. He should’ve guessed from Marinette’s letters that these two were the ones constantly egging on Lila, letting her get away with bullying his friend. His smirk faltered for a moment, but not a second later it was back in a more sinister way.

“Now Lila, I’ve heard you’ve been promising some people things you can’t deliver.”

“That’s- That’s not true. I always deliver.”

A murmur of doubt waved through the crowd behind him, building his confidence in his plan.

“Lila, please. I know your disease is worsening, but you’re really hurting some people here! You’ve got to stop.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder, a fake sincerity monopolizing his face. Her panicked eyes darted between him and the growing crowd behind him. She seemed like a caged animal, ready to pounce when there was an opening with no idea if it would help or hurt it.

“Mateo,” Adrien frowned as he placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to gently pull his arm from Lila’s. “You shouldn’t tear people down for their errors, it won’t put them on the right path.”

Mateo simply shrugged his hand off, not bothering to even glance at the boy.

“Neither will indulging their lying when it’s not only hurting your friend's feelings but their futures as well. What would’ve happened when she lied about getting Nathaniel in to meet a huge Magna artist to publish his comic doesn’t come true? Well, he already turned down other amazing opportunities so oh well, guess he’s never getting published.”

Another wave of agreement and anger washed over the crowd. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the only person who mattered, still in between the overprotective girls, all three smiling brightly in his direction.

“You can’t dO THIS!”

Lila pushed him as hard as he could, causing him to stumble backward. She was honestly making it too easy to play the concerned cousin card, it was making it hard for him not to burst out laughing.

“Lila, please. Your reign has to come to an end. I mean, you threatened your little designer friend that if she outed your lies, you would destroy her life!”

Alya’s mouth gaped as her eyes turned in horror to stare at Lila.

“You did what to Marinette?”

“No! You’re misunderstanding!” Lila’s panic seeped into her voice as she searched for a way out of the growing crowd.

“Mateo watch out!” Before he could turn to look, Marinette tackled him to the floor as a purple butterfly swooped over his head.

Screams echoed through the room as everyone backed up, trying to avoid the butterfly who made a straight beeline for Lila.

“About time Hawkmoth!” Lila jumped, her outstretched arm reaching for the flying butterfly. Just as her fingertips almost made contact, Adrien tackled her to the floor while the teacher from before trapped the butterfly in a small glass container.

The room was silent as everyone stared in horror at Lila.

“She just attempted to purposely be akumatized. She just called Hawkmoth by name, praising him for showing up!”

Alya zoomed in on her phone, her eyes tearing up as she ended the video, posting it straight to her blog.

“Alright kids, let’s just calm down,” the teacher tried to stop the panic from spreading but she didn’t even sound sure herself as she stared in a mixture of fear and pain at her student.

“I already called my dad, he’ll be on his way soon to arrest you, Lila!”

Cheers erupted from the room as they tried to rush forward, all apologizing in various different ways to Marinette. The two girls beside her did their best to hold them back but it was proving too much.

“Everybody back off!”

Surprisingly, everyone moved to the side, allowing a clear path for Mateo to make his way toward his friend.

“You all don’t deserve her forgiveness, not now, not ever.”

He reached back, intertwining his fingers with Marinette's as the crowd burst into anger. Alya and Adrien pushed their ways to the front, both of their eyes zeroing in on their hands.

“You don’t even know Marinette Mateo. She’s my best friend!”

Alya attempted a step forward but was stopped abruptly by what Mateo deemed as Marinette’s bodyguards.

“You haven’t been her best friend in years Alya, get over yourself. In fact, I’ve heard her gush on about this Italian kid more than I’ve heard her mention your name in the past three years.”

Marinette’s face flushed as she felt Mateo’s eyes searching her face for any denial.

“But-”

“But nothing. The Marinette I have grown to care for over the years wrote to me about you people. She tried to say you were redeemable, that you were under some fantasy spell and that one day you would wake up and come back to her, but you never did. If i hadn’t stepped in tonight, you all would have continued treating her like garbage.”

Marinette tightened her grip on his hand giving him the strength to continue.

“Marinette is kind, intelligent, courageous, and extremely talented. She has this bright personality that you just can’t help being drawn to. She did so much for you and your class, but you all overlooked it the instant something shiner came in. Alya, right? You do realize that Marinette got you your first interview with Ladybug? If she said that Lila didn’t know Ladybug, what other proof did you need?”

Alya stood there, her mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

“And you Adrien. Marinette took the fall with your father for the book you stole from him knowing that it could risk her chance in the fashion empire by pissing off Gabriel Agreste. She made sure that you could come back to school to be with all your so-called friends.”

Adrien’s face mimicked Alya’s as they tried to come up with a counter-argument, failing to do so. Mateo turned to face Marinette, his free hand rising up to cup her cheek.

“Do you want to leave this dance Marinette? You, your two bodyguards here and I could go grab some coffee if you’d like.”

Marinette nodded as if lost in a trance, seeing her penpal in a completely new light. The blonde raised two middle fingers to the class as the four of them headed toward the exit.

“Marinette wait!”

The group paused as Alya ran over, her face contorted in distress.

“Who is this guy Marinette?”

Mateo looked down, his eyes meeting hers as if silently coming to an agreement. They both broke into smiles as he brought their intertwined hands up to his lips.

“My boyfriend, Mateo Rossi.”

And without another word, the four left, basking in the victory that one night brought.

#marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug #miraculous salt

583 notes · View notes

nbrook29 · 4 years ago

Text

love you to the moon and to saturn

This is part 4 of my Sander in NYC ‘verse. I posted it on ao3, but recently I’ve also been posting my fics on tumblr so here it is 😌

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: mild sexual content

* * *

Saturday, 10:00

His sleep was anxious, mind too preoccupied with stress to allow him to get a proper rest. The wake up was even worse as mere seconds after he blinked the sleep away from his tired eyes the memories of last night crept back in, flooding him with worry and making his brain replay the argument over and over again like a broken cassette. And then he checked his phone only to find a string of messages and missed calls, all from Sander, causing his stomach to twist with nerves at what they were going to say.

His abrupt leaving had been a dick move and if Sander was pissed, Robbe knew he couldn’t blame him. So he stalled, finger barely swiping at the screen as he was unsure whether to unlock it and face the consequences or maybe throw the phone back on his bedside table and bury himself under the covers to wait for his courage to come back and for his nerves to settle.

Heaving a sigh, he chose option number one because it was the only rational one.

He tapped Sander’s photo, holding his breath without even registering it.

Two seconds later he knew.

He didn’t need to worry.

Sunday 13:00

Robbe hides another smile into his glass at the thought of yesterday’s evening, trying to focus on what Marie is saying. She’s talking animatedly about a guy she met at her new internship, hearts almost flowing out of her eyes as she swoons on the wooden stool and sips her black coffee. She’s the kind of girl who falls in love quickly and falls out of love just as quick. Across from where he’s sitting, he sees Fien and Lucas rolling their eyes at her exaggerated lovesick sighes making him snort in his marshmallow latte.

“Weren’t you obsessed with that lanky guy from Starbucks last week? What happened to him?”

Marie shrugs, tossing her long brown hair back from her shoulders. “I decided he was too old for me.”

“Didn’t you say he was 21?” Robbe interjects with amusement, remembering their group messenger chat he caught up with this morning.

“Exactly!”

They all start bickering about the appropriate age difference in relationships, Robbe watching them as he munches happily on one of the soggy marshmallows he fished out from his cup, trying not to giggle at Lucas’ scandalized face at Marie calling 21 old. Robbe knows from the many stories Lucas has shared so far that his own boyfriend is a senior at college so his reaction is even more entertaining because of that.

It feels good to be around them again, Robbe thinks to himself. He’s been canceling on them way too often those last few weeks and he still feels guilty about it. They’re a fun bunch, their bantery dynamic established since day one when they all chose the middle row to sit in during their morning classes, and then promptly spent half of it bonding over the outrageous occurrence that was the absence of a coffee shop on the campus. Not long after, Robbe also discovered that apart from the passion for filmmaking, they all also like skateboarding. After that, the rest was history.

They were for sure a nice distraction from Robbe’s intrusive thoughts in the beginning of the semester. He lucked out, finding his group, his people, so early on in his college journey. But at some point even their goofiness and honest attempts at cheering him up weren’t enough. Not since the news from Sander came that he’s staying in New York until February and since the thing with Jens.

Now, observing them from over his half-drunk coffee, lips twitching at some of the more creative but still lowkey insults Marie and Lucas throw at each other, he realizes he has really missed them. They’re like siblings, the two of them, constantly bickering and teasing one another, but it’s all good-natured and amusing to watch.

“Oh my god, let it go, children, for the love of god,” Fien cuts in abruptly, before turning her big expectant eyes on Robbe, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger and adding innocently, “I’d finally like to hear about Sobbe’s makeup.”

Heat rushes to Robbe’s cheeks and he scratches at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden. She’s the number one fangirl of his relationship, he has learned recently, but in a cute way, not creepy like Aaron sometimes used to be with his invasive questions. She always moans about being forever single, pouting at Robbe for some fluffy snippets and claiming in faux-seriousness that he owes it to the world to share them with others for being lucky enough to have a fairytale-like love story.

Robbe has never disclosed to them how unfairytale-like some of the details are because it’s not his story to tell. But he really likes her so he always indulges her, usually after a bit of teasing. And, sue him, but he’s proud of his relationship and the fact that he of all people can call Sander his boyfriend, so even if he brags a little, he thinks he has good reasons for it.

(He’s still kinda smug when he thinks about the time when he showed the three of them a photo of Sander, a pleased little smile on his face at their reactions and playful threats of stealing him for themselves.)

“Oh yeah, I wanna know too,” Marie agrees excitedly, scooting her chair closer to him. “You’ve been all smiley ever since you came over here so I’m guessing that hottie of yours did something right,” she ends on a teasing note, her waggling eyebrows leaving Robbe no doubts she expects some saucy details.

“Oh my god, stop,” he groans as he hides his face in his hands, his friends giggling at his embarrassment. “It wasn’t like that! We just… finally talked things out.”

Saturday, 18:00 (flashback to last night)

Robbe’s been gnawing on his bottom lip relentlessly, completely unaware, to the point it’s a few bites away from drawing blood. He can’t help but feel nervous, the cursor hovering over the 'accept' button as he's rolling his eyes on himself internally, telling himself to stop making a bigger deal out of this that it needs to be. There is a bit of embarrassment clouding his logical reasoning to be honest, embarrassment about his overreaction last night.

Was it an overreaction? He's still not completely sure, but it's not like avoiding the situation is going to magically fix everything between them. Even though he'd really like that. It feels so awkward to be in this position. Robbe doesn't know what the protocol here is. They bicker, quite often even. Fight a little too, stomping off out of each other’s room grumpily but only over stupid stuff, nothing like this.

He's walking on an unknown ground just hoping he's not going to make things worse. He desperately needs their dynamic back because he's already over it.

Not being able to share the most mundane every day stuff with each other over texts to joke about it, rile the other up or just vent about something stupid like their coffees not being hot enough on a given rainy morning sucks.

So he takes a deep breath and clicks on the button before he works himself into a never-ending second-guessing.

When Sander says a soft hi and smiles at him with the usual warmth in his eyes, something akin to relief courses through him from head to toe.

He gives him his own tentative smile and a short hi, pushing himself higher against the pillows. Before Sander can say anything more, he lets go of what has been weighing down on him the entire day.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, contrite. “About yesterday. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just logged off like that without explanation. And then ignore your messages,” he adds after a pause because that’s what he feels most guilty about. He knows he’d freak out if Sander just cut him off without giving him an opportunity to talk things out, would worry himself sick.

Sander looks conflicted, brows knitted together, like a part of him wants to reassure Robbe because it's in his nature, but the other part is genuinely hurt. Robbe doesn't want compassion. Not for that, because he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Causing Sander distress is the last thing he wants.

"Yeah, it did suck," he finally admits after a moment passes, and Robbe finds comfort in his honesty. It’s a good start. They won’t get anywhere with false niceties and pretending everything’s fine. Robbe tried pretending, yesterday and most of their calls before that, and it got them where they are now.

“I mean, I know you didn’t want to talk about your problems yesterday,” pausing, he scrunches up his nose a bit, “but maybe next time just don’t log off so abruptly so I know you’re okay?” his voice tilts on a hopeful note.

Robbe just nods, feeling shameful, hating that there’s not much more that he can do when he’s talking to him through his computer, and can’t exactly reach out to cuddle up to Sander’s side or kiss the underside of his jaw as a silent apology to then stay close for the rest of the evening as they heal together.

It’s frustrating and disheartening, but it affects them both the same amount and Robbe needs to remember that. Because the truth is, Sander didn’t exactly give him a legitimate reason to doubt him or to think he didn’t miss him. Those full of hurt eyes Sander gave him yesterday at the suggestion have been eating away at him all day.

Robbe just got swallowed by his own insecurities and let the little things that bothered him consume him all instead of, well. Communicating.

Sander was right yesterday. Of course he was.

He knows he has some more apologies to give.

“I’m also sorry for not telling you earlier how I felt,” he keeps pouring his heart out, “and for, you know, assuming you don’t miss me much, and-”

“Woah, hey,” Sander stops him before he can get himself deeper into the spiral. “Robbe, I fucked up too, don’t take it all on yourself.” He adjusts his laptop and Robbe can see his face clearer now, his eyes bloodshot and tired, a clear sign of a sleepless night, and the guilt clogs his throat even more now.

“I should have seen something wasn’t right.” When Robbe shakes his head and goes back to apologizing, Sander shoots him a pointed look that makes him shut up. “I should have, don’t deny it. You know, I took a long walk yesterday after you hung up, to clear my head, but also to get a perspective on our latest talks. And I felt so dumb for not realizing you were not doing okay.”

“Sander, I don’t expect you to read my mind,” Robbe tries to joke, but it falls flat even in his own ears. But he can’t bear those big regretful eyes on him. He doesn't deserve them.

“Baby, I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you the way you needed me to. Please tell me now? What’s been bothering you, hmm?”

Robbe scrubs his face trying to collect his thoughts, to find a concise way to get everything out of his chest, but he doesn’t know where to start.

“It may take a while.”

Sander makes a show of fluffing the pillow he placed against his back and getting himself more comfortable on his bed, sighing with contentment for a better effect.

“Look, I’m in my comfy clothes, got an energy drink on my nightstand, the computer battery is full and I told everyone I’m busy so they won’t nag me with anything. I’m all yours today.” He gives him an encouraging smile, fondness etched into every crevice of his face.

Robbe’s heart does a little skip at his words, Sander’s demeanor so comforting that he feels the last pieces of apprehension ebbing away, the need to vent overpowering the hesitation of showing his vulnerability.

“I think I just found myself overwhelmed with some things,” he admits quietly, picking at his nail, an absent-minded habit when he’s nervous, as he’s trying to find the right words. “A lot has changed in those last few months, almost all at once, and I kinda have trouble coping. And like,” he scoffs at himself, “I’m angry with myself ‘cause I should be enjoying most of it, being in college and majoring in something that I actually like, and it’s great, but I can’t help but focus on all the things that are different now, things that are not so great.”

Before continuing, he flicks his gaze to Sander for a second, only to then cast his eyes back to his lap. “The last two years with you were the happiest of my life, you know? After years of bullshit and constant misery and pretending to be somebody I wasn’t I-,” he sighs, bittersweet smile on his lips,”I finally found my person, you know?”

Sander mirrors his smile, but he’s frowning a little. “But you still have me,” he reminds him softly.

“I know, but it sucks when I can’t just, I don’t know, snuggle up you and forget about stuff. It’s all your fault, by the way, you’ve been too good to me and now I have withdrawal symptoms,” he pouts, and hears Sander chuckling on the other side of the screen.

“You have no idea how much I wish virtual hugs were a thing. And kisses, oh my god, kisses too. I’m so kiss-deprived. Once I finally get my hands on you, I won’t let you go for a week.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

For a short moment, Sander manages to bring a genuine smile on his face, but it quickly disappears when the reality sets back in. There are still almost four long months to get through. He watches Sander’s smile slipping off his face slowly and he knows they’re both thinking about it.

The boy sighs deeply. “You know, sometimes I feel like it was a mistake to-”

Robbe’s eyes snap to him. “No, no, no, don’t think that, it wasn’t a mistake. Please don’t feel guilty or something, that’s the last thing I want you to do,” he stresses. Sander still looks conflicted, and fuck, this is exactly what Robbe wanted to avoid.

“Hey, I’m serious. Look, you not being here is tough, but like I said, it’s just things piling up, changing. Shit like school work that has been piling up and me getting so stressed about the end-of-the-semester project because I still haven’t figured out the details. Plus people moving away, all of that makes it difficult for me to adjust. So don’t go thinking it’s because you’re the center of my universe or something,” he ends his rambling with a feigned-offended huff and Sander easily lets them slip into their usual banter.

“I’m not?! Wow, the things a guy finds out after being such a devoted and doting and loving boyfriend.” He wipes the imaginary tear, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “Such a menace, breaking my heart in half on this lovely Saturday afternoon.” He purses his lips in offence and Robbe is grateful for Sander’s attempt to lift the mood, trying to be upbeat.

He feels a tug in his chest thinking about how if Sander was here, he’d be tackling him to the nearest surface to shut him up with tickles and loud smooches and playful jabs in the sides and how they would make much more noise than necessary, acting like the rambunctious teens they are.

That’s going to have to wait too. But he discovers this thought doesn’t hurt as much as it would have yesterday because their conversation right now, this opportunity to vent and Sander’s texts last night, all of it makes him feel better, helps him see he’s not alone.

“I love you,” he blurts out all of a sudden, and it’s something he’s wanted to say since he read his heartfelt texts this morning that almost made him cry in relief.

Sander blinks a couple times, surprised, but then his previously playful face melts into such a fond look it makes Robbe blush like it was the first time he said it.

The I love you too comes right away, soft and quiet, like he’s telling a secret, and it’s heart-stoppingly precious.

To keep himself from drowning in fuzzy feelings, he shoots him a private little smile and steers the conversation back to his friends, telling him how it sucks that it’s they all now live away and how unexpectedly difficult it is to meet up. Robbe’s used to basically having everyone at arm-reach.

“We do video call, obviously, but you know, Milan is all loved up with Ralph in Amsterdam and not that keen on leaving their love nest and Zoe and Senne keep traveling between Genk and Ghent, which with Zoe’s coursework and internship is already a struggle. I don’t think they’re doing that well, actually,” he winces, remembering their last conversation.

If during freshman year somebody had told Robbe who his best friends were going to be, he’d looked at them as if they had grown two heads. Because for real, Jana’s new friend and her roommate? And school’s fuckboy?

But life’s funny like that sometimes. Moving into their apartment in his sophomore year has been one of the best decisions he’s ever made. His number one best decision is currently frowning at him from his dirty screen.

“Oh, that sucks. Do you think they’ll work it out?”

Robbe sighs deeply, propping his chin on the heel of his palm. “Senne has been thinking about finding a job in Genk so I hope so.”

Sander huffs a laugh suddenly, shaking his head. “Wow, I wish I was in his place and there were only 2 hours between us, instead of a whole ass ocean.”

“Yeah, I think once you’re back we’re gonna have a master's degree in that long distance bullshit,” Robbe smiles at him wistfully.

“Ugh, never again though. You’re not getting rid of me, it sucks without you, Robin.” He sounds so grumpy Robbe can’t help the short giggle that escapes him, but deep down he’s happy they both share that sentiment.

They’re staring at each other now, enjoying the moment before Sander shoots him a knowing look. “You haven’t mentioned Jens.”

That sobers him up enough for the fuzzy feelings to disappear from his stomach.

Jens. There’s not much to talk about really. And isn’t that a punch-in-a gut kind of truth considering it was his best friend? Isn’t it heartbreaking that Robbe didn’t even feel like fighting for that relationship and there’s a nagging voice in his head telling him that Jens didn’t either? Just a regular heated argument was enough to finally cut that last string, to put a stop to a friendship that had been hanging by a thread long before. Not that they had noticed.

He felt awful, afterwards. More alone than ever before. But deep down he knew it had only been a matter of time. He just wished Sander had been there to pick up the pieces.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Robbe winces, going back to apologizing once he translates his feelings to words the best he can, hoping he made Sander understand.

The boy pulls a face at him, eyes narrowed as he pretends to give him a stern look. “Enough with apologizing today, okay?” He waits until Robbe nods, albeit begrudgingly, because it’s in his second nature to keep saying sorry when he knows he messed up.

He nestles against his pillows to get more comfortable as he glances to the window, registering that sometime during their call it got completely dark outside, November days getting shorter still. He can feel tiredness starting to creep into his bones, the nervous anticipation before their call he had endured all day wearing him down significantly.

There are still some things he needs to get out of his chest and Sander coaxes them gently one by one, listening to him moaning and groaning about his school course load and how he thinks he’s not skilled enough to come up with interesting ideas and being quick to cut him off and reassure him when Robbe’s words get self-deprecating. He’s so attentive and so patient with him, not even an ounce of judgement in his eyes that Robbe feels the pressure and stress that have accumulated over the last few weeks finally letting go with each word he pours out.

When the conversation eventually steers to Robbe’s uni friends and he admits sheepishly that he kinda ghosted them lately, feeling too blue to go out and have fun, Sander interrupts him mid-sentence.

“You should reach out to them, tonight.”

At Robbe’s unsure look, he continues, “If they’re as cool as you made them out to be, I’m sure they’re gonna understand you needed some time to figure things out.”

He then proceeds to cover his ears and whistle, refusing to talk more until Robbe caves and shoots a text to the group chat, trying to keep it short, but explaining things along the way and making amends. Sander’s very pleased with his persuasion skills, beaming at him when Robbe reads him the replies he gets from Lucas, Marie and Fien, wearing a small smile himself as he rolls his eyes at Sander’s smug face.

Sander then asks about his mom and it’s so sweet because he always makes sure to ask, and Robbe falls for him even more each time he does. He’s a bit reluctant when Robbe tries to make him talk about his recent days, keeps saying this call is not about him, but he gives in before Robbe gets upset about it.

Watching his eyes light up with excitement when he talks about his classes works like a balm for Robbe’s yearning heart, Sander’s genuine happiness making his own struggles worth it. It’s a nice reminder that he’s there to make his dreams come true and that it’s everything Robbe has wished for him.

When Sander talks about shenanigans with his friends, Robbe recalls the TikTok video he watched some days ago.

“Nice Michael Jackson moves, by the way,” he comments, trying to sound innocent, but it ends up coming out a little coyishly as he bites at his finger to hide his smirk.

Confusion clouds Sander’s face but only for a second. Then, his lips stretch in a wide grin and he looks very pleased with the confession. “Have you been stalking me, Robin?”

Robbe shrugs, a picture of innocence as he keeps peeking at him from under his lashes. “I might’ve seen a video or two. They’re all so thirsty for you in the comments though,” he adds, putting a note of faux-jealousy in his voice. He quickly noticed that Sander’s new uni friend is semi-popular on the app so his videos always get a fair share of comments. Ever since Sander appeared in them, the hoard of the guy’s fans has been declaring their love for Robbe’s boyfriend under every video. They mostly make him laugh, but sometimes he’ll roll his eyes at some of the raunchier ones, possessiveness that he didn’t know he had activating in his brain.

He waits for Sander’s cocky comment, but to his utter delight, he blushes deep red and scoffs.

“Shut up, it’s so embarrassing,” hiding his face in his hands, he adds, “All of my friends have been teasing me about it constantly.”

“Aww, poor you, being fawned over must be such a hardship, how do you cope?”

“Oh I don’t know, smartass, you can tell me from experience ‘cause I saw those comments under your old vlogs.”

Robbe huffs a laugh. “They were nowhere near as detailed as yours!”

“What can I say, I’m irresistible,” Sander quips back and yeah, there he is, Robbe’s favorite (cocky) dork. “If I’d known you’re my TikTok fan, I’d have sent you those videos right away so you wouldn’t have to waste your time searching for them."

Robbe sighs. “They are a nice window to your life there,” he replies offhandedly, not even registering the implied double meaning to his words, but the immediate change in Sander’s amused expression makes him aware of the slip.

Fuck.

“So you noticed. That I’ve been texting you less.”

Robbe drops his gaze, pulling the cover further up his body, feeling awkward again. He doesn’t want to make a big deal out of this.

Sander shifts on his bed, scratching at his head. “I felt like I was too much, you know? I wanted to share every silly thing with you, but then, well, it was something Josh said that I should,” he waves vaguely trying to find the right words, “cut back on my ‘running commentary’ ‘cause it’s probably annoying.”

“Tell Josh he’s stupid,” Robbe cuts in with a huff, grumpily beating his pillow into submission to make it more comfortable.

The corners of Sander’s mouth twitch at his comment, but his face remains sheepish. “I think he was mostly joking, but it got stuck in my mind and made me question every message. In the end, I didn’t send like half of them,” he explains softly, voice colored with poorly hidden self-consciousness. “I didn’t want to give you the impression I don't have time for you, I’m sorry.”

And, fuck. They’re both idiots.

Sander’s brows shoot up when Robbe bursts into giggles out of the blue, clearly surprised with the reaction. But at this point, it feels like the only proper thing to do.

“So basically we could have avoided this whole bullshit if we just talk about all this sooner,” he groans at the realization, burying half on his face in his pillow to hide his heated face because he’s a little embarrassed he blew things out of proportion.

There’s a visible relief on Sander’s face too, eyes crinkling as he regards him with a dopey grin, and Robbe knows.

They’re gonna be fine.

“Here I thought we were masters of communication,” Sander sighs with a faux-disappointment, leaning back to smile at the ceiling. “Fuck, no more of assuming shit, what do you think?”

And that sounds like something Robbe can get behind one hundred percent, more than ready to leave their misunderstandings in the past and just do better. So he nods, chin digging into his collarbone uncomfortably with the position he’s lying in, but it doesn’t matter, he’s too preoccupied with staring at his happy face and swimming in his fuzzy feelings.

“Prepare yourself for an onslaught of photos and messages, I’m not messing around,” Sander warns, smiling at Robbe’s soft okay. “You know, just a few days ago I ended up at Pebble Beach, it was cold as all fucks, but the view was just,” he imitates an explosion over his head and Robbe giggles at his childlike enthusiasm. Then, Sander’s face softens and becomes a little sad. “That place is so romantic that it made me feel like shit without you there,” he sighs, and Robbe can relate. “I’ll take you there one day.”

“You’re gonna take me to New York?” Robbe asks, doubt lacing his voice as he cocks his brow which makes Sander scoff in indignance.

“Hell yeah! You don’t believe me? What do you think I’m doing here everyday? I’m scouting the best places for dates, finding the best skateparks and checking out all the museums so I can be the perfect guide for you!” Sander throws his hands, a duh expression on his face, but there’s a wide smile brewing on his lips letting Robbe know he’s not really offended or anything. And, honestly, Robbe just melts with his words.

“I can’t wait, baby,” he sighs dreamily, rubbing his cheek against his pillow as he gazes at him with what he’s sure is the softest look.

Sander narrows his eyes playfully from above the can of Redbull he’s been sipping on. “Don’t ever doubt I’m gonna go out of my way to impress you.”

Robbe blows him a kiss that morphs into a huge yawn, eyelids growing heavy, forcing him to blink repeatedly to stay away which prompts Sander to tease him a little about boring him, but it quickly dies out and he’s just looking at him fondly.

“You should go to sleep.” He ignores Robbe’s melodic neeees, giving him a stern look that was probably supposed to be intimidating, but he looks too amused to keep it up. Once Robbe gets his promise they will see each other tomorrow, Sander sends him several virtual kisses and goodnights before logging off.

Robbe falls asleep with Sander’s beaming face flowing through his mind.

The sleep that comes is unsurprisingly the calmest he’s had in weeks.

Sunday, 18:00

Sander: And?

Robbe: And what?

Sander: Was I right?

Robbe: About?

Sander: About your friends

Robbe: Kinda

Sander: So it means I was 😎

Robbe: :):):) yes

Sander: Thank you sander

Robbe: Thank you sander

Sander: See, you're so precious everybody's in love with you and forgive you in seconds

Robbe: 🙄

Robbe: Precious srsly?

Sander: So precious 🥰

Robbe: Omg

Sander: Haha

Robbe: We're good 😊

Robbe: But I don't think they are in love with me 😂

Sander: They better not be 🤨 I'll fight them all! 🗡💀🧟🤺

Robbe: Dork ❤

Robbe: I think they a little bit in love with u though 🤔

Robbe: They've been babbling all afternoon about how cute you are 🙄

Robbe: A g a i n *yawn*

Sander: They have good taste 🤷♂️

Robbe: Nah they just don't know your annoying habits so that's why

Sander: 😮 I don't have any how dare you badmouthing me like that

Robbe: 🥴

Robbe: You never wash your coffee cups right away so they lay around

Robbe: You always tickle me when you want sth

Robbe: You're full of corny jokes

Robbe: You eat my fries when I don't look

Robbe: You hog the covers

Robbe: And I still remember that Wednesday when you ate my last bag of chips 💔

Sander: Okay first of all

Sander: Wow

Sander: Don't hold back 🥺

Sander: Second of all

Sander: I THOUGHT THOSE CHIPS WERE MILAN'S I TOLD YOU!!!

Robbe: That's what they all say 💔

Sander: You're unfair, I thought I made up for that lil mistake 🍆

Robbe: Well you did 🙈 but I still remember 😝

Sander: Also you love my jokes

Sander: They're awesome 🤧

Robbe: I'm just messing around 😘😘

Sander: 🥰

Robbe: But I swear to god if I have to listen one more time to Marie waxing lyricals about your 'perfect moles' I'm gonna 🤮

Sander: What haha 😂

Robbe: I mean they are but like

Robbe: Chill girl he's not your man 🤨

Sander: That's right cause I'm your man 😏

Robbe: And don't you forget that

Thursday, 3:48

Soft knuckles brush his skin, body arching into the touch that turns his muscles into jelly and sends liquid fire rushing through him. He’s overheated in the best way possible, seeking out Sander’s tongue, but the boy denies him access, smirk well in place as he pulls back, green eyes cloudy from lust. He’s staring at him like he wants to eat him whole and Robbe almost whimpers, bones melting and lids closing when Sander takes the tender flesh of his neck between his teeth and bites at it ever so gently, but just enough to make Robbe see stars.

He sighs as he feels a ghost of touch on his nipple, Sander leaving a trail of kisses down his sternum as he’s moving so teasingly slow to his final destination, and he doesn’t even hesitate, spreading his legs wider around Sander’s hips in a blatant invitation, blushing hot pink when Sander sends him a fox-like grin, mouthing at his inner thigh.

The details get fuzzy for a few seconds, Robbe blinking rapidly to get his surroundings and finding himself on top of Sander, and there’s an inkling at the back of his brain telling him something’s messed up about the logistics here. He decides to ignore it, focusing back on the moment and Sander’s glistening, kiss-swollen lips, on his eyes transfixed on the place where they’re connected, and he leans down, his tongue sweeping over his Sander’s bottom lip before he starts pressing soft, spit-slick kisses into his mouth. He pushes Sander’s hands up over his head and intertwines their fingers, arching his back as he takes over, the rush of pleasure almost overwhelming him.

“Ohmygod, Sander,” Robbe breathes into his mouth. His hands are trailing all over Sander’s chest and stomach now, squeezing and rubbing almost like he’s his personal plaything.

It’s not long before Sander’s warm hands draw him back towards his chest, lips ghosting along Robbe’s, teasing, always teasing, but not granting permission to properly meet, making Robbe impatient and whine in desperation only for Sander to grin wickedly at him. He feels nails dragging along his spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake, stopping at his cheeks, massaging them to his heart content while Robbe can only pant, rocking back and forth and biting his bottom lip to keep from coming.

He’s an oversensitive, blissed out mess, trying to keep his eyes open to take a mental snapshot of Sander’s lust-blown pupils as they watch each other, Sander fucking him slowly and punching the prettiest sounds out of Robbe’s mouth.

Hips stuttering, he drops back down on his elbows to crash his lips against Sander’s, feeling his body tensing he’s so close and-

Eyes shot wide open, blinking harshly against the darkness of the room. His first instinct is to reach out to the other side of the bed, snuggle closer to the source of heat lying next to him, but his brain catches up with his hands quickly and he stops himself mid-reach, groaning as he flops back on the bed, disappointed. He kicks his covers down grumpily, letting cold air hit his overheated skin, frustrated and too awake to go to sleep now.

Fuck.

Thursday, 13:08

*photo attached*

Sander: Good morning x

Robbe: Heeyy sleepyhead 😘

Robbe: You look cute

Sander: I had very interesting dreams last night

Robbe: Oh yeah?

Sander: Yeah I'm still affected by them 😏

Robbe: Stop it I'm at a coffee shop with the guys!

Sander: I'll have to tell you about it tonight then 😈

Robbe: Can't wait 😘

Sander: Today at 16 my time right?

Robbe: Yep :)

Robbe: You know

Sander: Hmm?

Robbe: I might have some of those dreams too last night

Sander: 🥵🥵🥵

Sander: Do tell

Robbe: 🙈

Sander: Now I’m super intrigued 😈

Robbe: How about I tell you tonight

Robbe: With details

Robbe: Lots of them

Sander: Tonight can't come fast enough 😩

Sander: Looks like I will though 😏

Robbe: Omg you're such a dork 😂

Sander: Did it get u hot

Robbe: No wtf 😂

Sander: ☹🥺

Sander: Kay

Sander: I have to get up now

Sander: I'm late 🙄

Sander: Robin it's raining I don't wanna go out 😩

Robbe: Haha get your pretty ass out of bed and go be a good student!

Sander: Ugh fine 🙄

Sander: I love you ❤

Robbe: ❤

Sander: Hey no, not an emoji, tell me you love me ☹

Robbe: Haha

Sander: Come on

Robbe: 🤐

Sander: Robbe

Robbe: Gotta go 😌

Sander: Okay then 😔💔

Robbe: I love you too idiot ❤❤❤💯

Sander: Yesss 🥰

Sander: Hey that's my emoji 😏 so you like it after all

Robbe: 😂 go to class!!!

Sander: I'm going I'm going

Friday, 19:00

Robbe checks his phone for time again, not wanting to be late for his call with Sander, but there’s still about half an hour until he should get going. It’s been a pleasant evening and a while ago he would have never called any time of the day spent with his father ‘pleasant’, but there he is. Enjoying his dinner not only with him but also with his girlfriend of six months that he met in July when the first attempts to salvage the relationship with his dad have been made.

And it’s all because of Sander. The fact that he’s even here speaks volumes about his skill of persuasion. If it hadn’t been for his boyfriend, Robbe would have continued to stew in his own juices and ignored his dad.

“How is Sander doing? New York is a jungle.”

Robbe huffs a laugh. “He’s good, he fits in well in the city vibe. But, um, he needs to stay a bit longer, till February actually ‘cause the school postponed the art show.”

He goes for another bite, frown on his face at the mere reminder of the change of plans.

“You probably hate it, huh?” his father questions.

His only response is to throw him a duuuh look, making his dad snort.

“You should visit him.”

Robbe looks up from over his spaghetti, expecting to see his dad laughing or winking at him, but both him and Margaux are looking at him with unsuspecting smiles, like the suggestion is the most obvious thing in the world.

He exhales a short dad in a laugh, glancing at them back and forth. “I don’t have a spare several thousand euros lying around waiting to be spent on a trip to New York,” he explains, slight exasperation in his voice.

“Oh I don’t think you’d need that much, Robbe,” Margaux smiles at him as she puts away her fork and reaches for her phone. “A few months ago I was actually backpacking with my friend through the East Coast and, wait, let me check, I have everything saved on my AirBnB account.”

Robbe gets back to his dinner as she scrolls on her phone, trying to squish the building hope in his chest away because even if it’s cheaper than he thinks, there’s still no way he can afford it; his equipment and books for school have eaten all of his savings.

“There it is! Look,” she scoots her chair closer to him, his dad peeking at the phone from the other side. “We stayed in Brooklyn for 98$ a day for a double bed, in Bedford to be exact and the conditions were really nice, plus the train station was close by. I’m sure you could find something half as cheap since it’s just you and the room can be tiny, just to sleep really.”

“That’s a reasonable price, I think,” his dad joins in, and then proceeds to ask her questions about her other expenditures while in the city and the flight prices, debating whether it’s better to drive to Frankfurt and take a direct flight from there or maybe decide on a layover flight from Brussels.

They are so into the planning and discussing the best options that they both jump slightly when Robbe speaks again, clearly forgetting he’s sitting right next to them, a picture of confusion.

“Guys, guys, wait. It doesn’t matter if it’s 1500 euros, or even 1000 euros because that’s still a 1000 euros more than I have to spend on a trip anywhere.”

His dad is so enthralled into checking different flights that he barely raises his head from above his phone, replying offhandedly, “I’ll pay for it.”

And, okay, no. Robbe gapes at him like he grew two heads, spluttering, because hell no.

“No way, I won’t take your money, dad.”

His vehement tone finally makes his father properly regard him and he sighs after a second. “Robbe, please don’t treat it as an attempt to buy you or your feelings.”

Straight to the point, his dad, always has been. It definitely is one the reasons for his refusal, but it’s not only that.

Robbe takes a deep breath to calm down. “Look, dad, it’s still lots of money. I can’t-”

“I’m many things, but irresponsible with money I’m definitely not. So if I say that I can pay for it, it means that I can afford it and it won’t affect me.” He gives him a pointed look. Before Robbe can argue again, he continues. “We can treat it as your Christmas gift. And next year’s birthday gift. And last two Christmases gifts as well.”

Robbe thinks about the packages he received from his father those holidays, and how he sent them back without even opening. Then, it definitely felt like buying his affection.

“You’ve been doing good at school, got into the university you wanted, you’ve been more responsible those last few years that I could’ve ever asked from you. Then you worked during the summer because you were adamant about paying for school stuff yourself. I think you earn it, Robbe. If you don’t want to go for other reasons, then that’s fine, but if it’s just about the money, please let me give you this.”

“New York is the kind of place everyone should visit at least one,” Margaux says gently. She has a warm smile that immediately made Robbe like her, despite really trying not to for obvious reasons. “And I think Sander would love for you to come visit too.”

Robbe has been torn before she spoke, but the mention of Sander reminds him of their videocall a while back, Sander telling him about places he was going to show him one day, being his guide and taking him to his favorite spots in the city. He can see it all vividly now when the opportunity is at his fingertips, can’t stop the excitement filling his body at the thought of seeing Sander before that dreadful February, even though he’s still now sure what to do.

While he’s been lost in his thoughts, trying to come to some conclusion, Margaux has been typing away at her phone. “Dates around Christmas are very expensive, but what would you say about, let’s say, December 8th? Til December 17th?”

Robbe wouldn’t even consider Christmas because there’s no way he would leave his mom alone for the holidays, but… the dates Margaux offered seem kinda perfect. His main project is due on December 4th so he wouldn’t have to worry about that and it’d be fine if he missed classes for those several days. Completely unaware, he finds himself making plans in his head before he even made a decision to accept his father’s money, but when his eyes snap to his dad’s, the small smile he gives him lets him know he already knows Robbe’s answer.

December 7th, 22:00

His excitement has been uncontainable the entire day, making him so giddy he had to cancel his regular call with Sander because his boyfriend would figure him out in seconds. And that’s the last thing he wants.

He’s still in shock that he somehow managed to keep it from him, planning a surprise in his head ever since he agreed to his dad’s help and working extra hard at uni to afford missing those 8 days of school. There’s apparently been one close call when Younes almost spilled the beans to Sander during their Zoom, but thank god for Yasmina who managed to effortlessly salvage the secret, improvising and coming up with an easy lie, leaving him unsuspicious of any ploy going on.

And Robbe just. He just can’t wait. He’s been counting hours since last week, his lips yearning to be kissed by his favorite person, body pining for touch and caress.

Lost in the dreams of their reunion, Robbe’s startled by a ping from his phone, lips stretching in a wide smile when he sees a notification from Sander’s instagram. He opens it, curious, melting when he’s greeted with a graffiti sign saying ENKEL LIEFDE, Sander’s style easily recognizable to him. Underneath, there’s a heart and his own handle and that shit never fails to make Robbe heart stutter. There’s a DM from Sander waiting for him as well, the same photo, but Sander’s caption says The High Line needed its own version of my love declaration for you, but unfortunately I couldn’t find enough space for a redo of your gorgeous face Robin :( So I did this :) You like it?

He replies with a bunch of red hearts, likes the post and adds another heart in a comment because there’s never too many of those. Then he flops back on his bed, a smile glued to his face.

Nineteen hours.

#wtfock

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words-for-holland · 4 years ago

Text

Christmas Admirers Teaser |T.H.

Pairing: Fratboy!Tom x Reader

Summary: Tom Holland and Y/N have never crossed each other’s paths in the 3 years of their college career. but can a silly letter change all that?

Loosely Inspired by Dash & Lily and every other cheesy Hallmark Christmas Rom-Com Movie out there.

A/N: This wont be a series but this story is going to be really long when it’s done but tbh not sure if Im really like how its coming...Ha...ha.. But I’ll still do a taglist for this when it’s completed so feel free to add yourself if you’d like.

Taglist

Wanna Play a Game?

All it took was one bright red letter and four words to intrigue the most beloved, foreign exchange student of New York University, Tom Holland. If his name sounds familiar to you, then you already know the answer to the question that just popped in your head. Yes, not only was Tom Holland a well renowned actor, he was also a student exploring the wonders of college along with his best friend Harrison. Some say he was only attending to prepare for a role, others say he did it to have his fun with sorority girls, and a very small percentage believed he was actually trying to get his degree in theater. Whatever the reason, college life suited him well, being the head of the Beta Gamma Sigma Fraternity, living the bachelors life with a new girl around his arm every week, but it was all the same...until he found that red letter sticking out of an abandoned shelf in the Potter’s Library.

He remembered it clearly, the day he found it. Tom had reluctantly arrived at the Library assuming his mates would be there to actually study for an exam they had this upcoming week. Lord knows if they didn’t pass this final with at least a C this semester, they would surely relive the nightmares with Professor Gonpu in the next. Yet to no surprise, none of them came and ditched last minute as the pool of messages started to flood his phone.

“Great.” Tom muttered to himself as he took a seat at the far right corner of the library. The area was empty, and as he slouched on the wooden chair and pushed it back, the boy hadn’t realize how close to the empty shelf he was. With a single thud, came a small red letter floating above and gently making its way down to his lap. The inviting words peaked his interest, and while he checked both front and back for a name, the letter should have been addressed to...there was none. He unfolded it and read it to himself.

Do you want a play a game?

You seem like the type of person that has nothing better to do, so let’s make it a little more interesting. I wont tell you who I am, but if I deem you worthy...I just might.

Still with me?

I’ll give you five clues to figure out this location. Everything you need is here in the Library. And...if you even think about using that phone, you might as well put this letter back where you found it. After all.. you’re in a library and it’s got all the information you need. Ready?

Tom looked at it puzzled by the words. “Do people actually do this shit?”, he thought to himself. He continued to read on, examining each clue and the 5 lines next to them.

1. You’ll find your first clue, deals with a tragic romance. He had all the money in the world but never ends up with the one he loves.

“Too easy.” Tom smiled to himself as he quickly looked for The Great Gatsby. He referenced the red letter seeing only 3 spaces for the first clue. “Jay” he whispered to himself, as he triumphantly wrote out the words.

2. Know what else is more shitty than dying and not having the love your life? Writing a depressing poem about the love your life dying. Or as Poe would imagine, a beautiful maiden by the sea.

He smirked at the line, knowing fully well the poem that the mysterious letter was referencing, and quickly headed to the poetry section. Tom scanned the row of books, until the black book with white lettering caught his eye. Flipping through the broken pages, he found exactly what he was looking for. “In this kingdom by the sea, but we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee.” he muttered the lines, a smile slowly creeping up. Tom writes out the word “Lee” in the 3 lettered blank. “Tragic Romance, how typical.” he says to himself. Though his voice was laced with disinterest, it was Tom’s favorite poem, but he’d never tell anyone that.

It continued on this rhythm of deciphering clues and running around the Library like a chicken without a head to figure out what the letter wanted from Tom. He had been so focused that his plan to study for Gonpu’s final and meeting with the fraternity has completely flown out the window. As of now, Tom’s main priority was to find the answers to the letter’s puzzling challenge. Maybe, if he answered it, he would know who the mysterious writer was.

Then it happened. The last clue was solved, as Tom quickly wrote out the final word, examining his work and trying to make sense of what he found. There were no other instructions left on the letter which only made Tom more puzzled. It wasn’t a name. It wasn’t a thing. It was a place on campus. Jay Lee’s Coffee Lounge, the most serene coffee spot you’ll ever find in NYU. It offered all the essentials needed to focus and complete your work all with a side of great cold brew made in house. People say it’s NYU’s best kept secret, but really it’s because students will rarely go since it’s so out of the way.

He made it to the shop after thirty minutes, and stepped into the calm atmosphere. The smell of gingerbread lattes hit him once he opened the doors, and soft chatter between students filled the air. He looked around the area in hopes to find the person who wrote the letter. Perhaps they were waiting for him, but it was unlikely since Tom wasn’t even sure if the letter was written that same day. For all he knew, he could be wasting his time, and yet....it didnt feel like it. Almost as if he felt he was meant to be here.

“Mate, what are you doing here?!” Tom followed the robust British voice as he whipped his head to the counter. His best friend Harrison, dressed in a Jay Lee’s short sleeved shirt.

“Harrison? You...work here?” He asked voice filled with confusion. Not once did Harrison tell Tom about his side job. In fact it was almost offensive to think the blonde hair bloke would even it hide it from him.

“Yeah...I didn’t really tell anyone because well you know, it’s the last place people would expect a frat to be working in. Reputations and all...What about you? I didn’t think this place was your type of thing.” he asked.

“It’s not...” he paused for a moment, debating on whether to tell Harrison what he found. If it led Tom here, Harrison might know who wrote the letter. He hoped it was girl...God he really hoped it was. “Actually, I was at the library today waiting for you divs --”

“Oh yeah sorry mate.” Harrison looked at Tom apologetically.

“No, its fine really. But I found something interesting, and --”

“Tom, if it’s another blonde wannabe model, I --”

“Bloody hell, Harrison just listen to me. I..” Tom paused for a moment to quickly check his surroundings before pulling up the red paper. “I found this red letter. Made me go on bloody goose chase and led me here. You dont happen to know anything about this do you?”

Harrison took the letter and examined it thoroughly reading the lines word for word and the notes Tom made next to them. He was just as intrigued, but unfortunately shook his head, unsure of the answer to Tom’s question as well. “Sorry, Mate. I have no clue. Never seen anyone here writing out a red letter before.”

Tom held the letter, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Was this it? Did he really just waste a whole 3 hours in the library and 30 minutes worth of gas for nothing? “I just dont understand.” he muttered.

“Look if you really think the person that wrote this letter wanted you to be here, why don’t you just write a message in it and post it on the corkboard? Im working the entire week, so I’ll keep an eye on who grabs it and let you know.“

It didnt seem like a half bad plan, Tom nodded in agreement and grabbed a pen from his bag, writing his reply in the empty space, the mysterious writer was so kind enough to leave. He posted it on the corkboard, and turned back to his friend.

“Dont forget.” Tom pleaded.

“I wont mate.”

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine

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pinky-the-elephant-room · 4 years ago

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Lovely Noya

❀ AN: I’m been trying to upload this since yesterday here’s hoping this works !! This prompt is based off Lovely Complex, so yes Noya is Otani in this but the plot was changed to fit Noya’s personality. Reader is 5′8 and Nishinoya 5′2 or 4′10 with his hair down as Wiki states.

✿ Warning: None fluffy goodness. Tall Fem Reader x Nishinoya

❀ Summary: Of all the different times Nishinoya saw you how was he suppose to know that you were leaving a piece of yourself inside his heart?

✾✾✾✾✾✾✾

1 time.

Nishinoya rested his face against the wooden desk as the sensei went on and on about how important 2nd year was going to be for graduation and eventually college. But really, he tuned it out, the defeat at Inter high still fresh in his mind. He opened his muted brown eyes to watch as the clouds hazily moved across the horizon. He jerked out of his musing when his seatmate next to him suddenly got up, the chair scraping across the floor, and in doing so creating such a horrific sound that he couldn’t help but wince.

“L/N, read the next paragraph please,” the sensei commanded.

“Haiiiiiii.”

Nishinoya couldn’t help but sit up straighter, did girls know how cute they sounded when they talked like that? He proceeded to pay attention as Y/N continued to read in accented but clear English so much so he couldn’t help feeling envious. Despite years of having English as a mandatory class he still sucked at it.

“And that’s why the Dutch succeeded in trading with a closed-off Japan where other nations failed,” Y/N finished and tucking her skirt, sat elegantly back down in her chair.

“Alright, who’s next to read?”

Nishinoya ducked his head and prayed silently it wouldn’t be him.

“Akira, read the next paragraph!” the gruff teacher barked.

Nishinoya let out a big sigh of relief and slumped over. He heard muffled giggles and he saw Y/N covering her mouth with her hand. When she finished, she looked over to see him staring at her. She jolted in surprise.

“Oh gomen, you just looked so relieved,” she said with a grin.

Nishinoya just grinned back at her. “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to girls laughing at me.” He realized with a depressing clarification and slumped even more.

Y/N blinked at him and leaned forward resting her face on her palm. “What do you mean by that?”

He quickly shook his head. “N-never mind that, Y/N. We should pay attention now before we get in trouble.”

She flashed him a quick smile showing off a dimple only on her right cheek.

“If you say so. And I’m glad I don’t have to correct you on my name! I don’t really like my last name, Noya-kun.”

N-noya-kun??! His cheeks flushed red and he tucked his head behind his textbooks so she couldn’t see the effect her simple words had on him.

L/N Y/N was someone he never shared a class with, and he wasn’t close with her either. Well, he wasn’t close with any girls, but still, the fact they were neighbors would mean they should at least exchange pleasantries, right? But she always arrived before he did and left later than him, so they never really got a chance to communicate. In fact, this was the first time they had an entire conversation since school started. Maybe he should make more of an effort to talk to her. She seemed pretty nice and he could always use more female friends since he had none.

He was jolted out of his thoughts as the bell rang and signaled the class had ended. Nishinoya leaped from his chair with a “yatta!” and quickly picked up his bag. Just as he was about to go rushing out of the classroom, he remembered his previous notions about making friends.

“Bye-bye, Y/N!”

Y/N looked up startled, just as she was putting away her books and a small smile blossomed on her face.

“Mata ne, Noya-kun!” And she turned back to her bag.

Just in time too as his face once again quickly felt hot and he ran off trying to reach the volleyball gym in record time.

4 times.

Nishinoya sat glumly in his seat as everybody trickled in for the morning classes. Asahi, the ace of their team, hadn’t shown up again, not even seeing Kiyoko-san’s face had lifted his mood that morning. Their loss was even harder to cope with Asahi not showing up like a coward.

He glanced up when he saw Y/N pull out the chair next to him and sit down at her desk.

“Ohaiyo, Noya-kun!” she greeted cheerfully.

“Hey….” he replied and sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing just some volleyball club stuff….”

“Oh! You guys had a tournament in March. How did it go?”

Nishinoya furrowed his eyebrows and asked, “wait how did you know about the game? Are you a volleyball fan too?”

Y/N waved off his inquiry. “No, I’m on the student council and I know pretty much all of the clubs’ activities for budget concerns.”

“Right well, we lost.”

Y/N’s face wilted and the smile on her face vanished. It looked wrong on her somehow, he wanted her to smile all the time.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but you’re in your second year! You have the tournament a few months from now on and even next year to do better.”

“I suppose,” he muttered and fiddled with the pencil on his desk.

Nishinoya peeked at Y/N from the corner in his eye and saw that she looked like she wanted to say something several times but stopped herself.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?”

Y/N perked up. “Of course!”

“There’s a teammate that took the loss really badly and he’s not showing up to practice anymore! And the thing is it’s not his fault we lost but he’s taking it personally. The team relies on him a lot and everybody’s down. I don’t know what to do.”

He didn’t know why he was asking her or why he was even opening to her, but it was a question weighing on him heavily. Sure, he was a boisterous guy that never let things like defeat keep him down, but Asahi was different. Nishinoya didn’t understand what the ace was going through, and he was kind of confused on how to make things right. Especially since he was harboring his own guilt. But it felt right to ask her. Especially since Y/N was a popular girl that many of their classmates relied on.

“Well, maybe you should start by talking to him and telling him how you feel. Start with exactly what you just told me and eventually persuade him to come back,” she suggested.

“Are you sure it’s as simple as that?” He couldn’t help but be skeptical. Where were the dramatic crying and wholesome man hugs?

“Yup! Every time the student council members argue amongst themselves, I always act as a mediator being the Vice President. We always start by being honest with each other and then finding a compromise.”

Nishinoya nodded. “Alright! I’ll go talk to him right after classes are done.”

Just as he was about to ask her if she could help him with last night’s homework (more like copy), Mai-san, their class representative, had interrupted them.

“Oy Y/N-chan! I have a couple of questions about the upcoming spring festival’s budget,” she waved Y/N over to her desk.

Nishinoya watched as Y/N stood up and made her way across the classroom. He was startled to notice her height for the first time. How tall was she exactly? She made him feel like an ant underneath her heel. Furthermore, how the hell did he not notice until now?

He watched as all the girls and even a few guys in their class gravitated to Y/N’s friendly nature. She was a natural-born leader that reassured many by her presence. She felt like a gentler version of Daichi-san, to be honest.

As the morning bell rang, all the students made it back to their desk on time. When Y/N sat down at her own, he leaned over and whispered, “Y/N, can I see your math homework from yesterday?”

She didn’t even look at him as she replied while writing down notes, “you can’t keep relying on me, Noya-kun. Otherwise, you will fail your tests.”

He softly brought his hands together and bowed. “Onegaiiii! I promise I’ll make it up to you! How about a popsicle?”

She reached over and pulled one of the notebooks before passing it over to him.

“Try not to make it too obvious, ok?”

“Don’t worry! I’m great at copying we won’t get caught.”

Y/N shook her head. “I wish you would be just as good at math as you are at copying,” she muttered under her breath.

When Nishinoya finally finished he couldn’t help but let out a relieved shout.

“Oy Nishinoya! What are you doing? Pay attention or you’ll start failing before the semester even begins!” The sensei barked at the interruption.

The class broke out into giggles and Y/N couldn’t help the small smile at Nishinoya’s expense as his face crumbled from being scolded.

6 times.

Nishinoya blinked slowly as he laid on the couch watching another comedy rerun of some old comedy duo that were famous in the ’90s. He quirked his head when he heard another noise. This time the doorbell rang clearly and awoke him from his stupor.

He scratched the itch on his behind as he slowly made his way to the front door.

“Alright, alright! I’m coming no need to keep ringing the doorbell.”

He reached and unlocked the door before turning the knob. There stood Y/N on his doorstep still wearing her school uniform.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”

She shot him an annoyed look and planted her hands on her hips.

“When I told you to go talk to your teammate, I didn’t tell you to start a fight and get suspended, Noya-kun!”

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “Gomen! But in my defense, it wasn’t a fight, and I didn’t mean to break anything.”

She tsked and reached in her bag to pull out some papers.

“Here, that’s the work for this week that you missed. I live close by, so I got the responsibility.”

He tried to sound enthusiastic as he thanked her, but her face gave him the impression she wasn’t buying it.

“You aren’t going to do it until the last minute, am I right? And you won’t even do a good job on it either because you would be in a hurry to finish it.”

“T-that’s not true and you know it,” he lamely defended himself before conceding. “Ok, fine you win.”

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked shaking her head. “Can I come in?”

Nishinoya was startled at her request for a minute before consenting. “Sure!”

He watched wide-eyed as her head almost touched the doorframe, she was that tall and he couldn’t help but stare up at her as she passed.

“Ne, Y/N how tall are you?”

“172 cms. It’s not that tall though. Chichiue’s even taller. He has to bend down so that he doesn’t hit door frames most of the time.”

Not that tall? Nishinoya wished most of the time he was able to at least reach the glassware on the lower shelves in the kitchen and she said 172 cms wasn’t tall! Genetics just aren’t fair, are they?

As Y/N collaborated to help him finish this week’s homework, he failed to notice the stars in Y/N’s eyes and the soft blush on her face each time their hands touched. And that would prove to be her undoing.

10 times.

Nishinoya cackled at Tanaka who was still lamenting tripping over a volleyball in the gym. His shaved head still sported a nasty bump that was beginning to purple, with a mischievous grin Nishinoya reached over to poke it. Tanaka let out a yelp and smacked his hand away.

“Don’t do that!”

“Gomen Ryu, it looks like you have another head growing out of your skull,” he gasped out between his chuckles.

“Ah! If it isn’t Noya-kun!” a voice called out.

He turned around to see Y/N walking towards him. She was probably heading home as well.

“Yo Y/N! You’re going home early today?”

“Un! The President let me go since I finished my work early.”

Nishinoya turned around to see Tanaka pulling at his sleeve and looking at him eagerly.

“Oh, this is L/N Y/N my classmate and this is Tanaka Ryunosuke, my teammate.”

“Nice to meet you!” Y/N said cheerfully and bowed.

Ryu however just bowed in a hurry and turned away. Y/N gave Nishinoya a curious look which he only shrugged at. He had no idea why Ryu was acting weird.

Suddenly he remembered the favor he owed her from when she helped me finish his work. He fumbled through his pockets, pulling out a Gari Gari-kun’s winner popsicle stick.

“Here, Y/N! My treat for you!” he said eagerly and put it in her hand.

“Wow. A free popsicle when I took time out of my day to help you,” she deadpanned.

He only chuckled nervously and scratched his head. “I know. I know. I owe you.”

“Never mind I’ll just think of something later. I’m going to head home now. Bye-bye!”

Nishinoya just waved to her and watched as the taller girl left.

“Noya you bastard! How could you do this to me? How could you hide such a cute girl from me?” Ryu burst out dramatically as soon as Y/N left.

“Y/N? Cute?” Noya murmured to himself like he hadn’t considered the possibility.

“You’re joking, right? That’s Y/N, the vice president of the student council. Even third years think she’s pretty and you’re telling me you haven’t noticed? Are you feeling ok?” Tanaka placed his hand on Nishinoya’s forehead trying to check his temperature.

He just batted away Tanaka’s hand and shrugged.

“I guess I just didn’t notice because I don’t like her that way? She’s super helpful and always taking care of me, but she’s not someone I would consider a girlfriend material, you know? More like a friend or even a sister.”

He saw Tanaka giving him a look that he couldn’t decipher before it disappeared. So, he just brushed it off.

“I mean the only girl for me is Kiyoko-san! She shines brighter than any other girl in the school, so it’s not a surprise that I didn’t really notice Y/N.”

Tanaka gave him a nod in agreement. “That’s true! No one can compare to Kiyoko-san,” he said before slapping Noya harshly on the back.

“Ahh! What was that for?”

“For not telling me your friends with a cute girl like Y/N!”

The two best friends tussled with each other for a few more minutes before going about their way home.

14 times

Another one and another Friday gone, Nishinoya stretched happily and got ready to leave for home. Next week is the training camp and he was beyond excited to play volleyball once again.

“Noya-kun! Do you have a minute before you leave?”

Nishinoya looked up at Y/N and nodded with a huge smile.

She handed over a bag that she grabbed from inside her desk.

“Here, I’m not sure if your allowed to have snacks at the training camp so I grabbed you some.”

Nishinoya looked through the bag to see some potato chips, chocolate, and other variety of snacks.

Y/N was nervously twitching as she watched Noya look through the bag.

“Sorry if you don’t like them, I wasn’t sure what you liked besides Gari Gari-kun popsicles.”

“N-no!... No. It’s just no one ever has done this for me. I’m just a little shocked is all, Y/N” he said a bit emotionally.

Y/N’s raised her eyebrow. “You’re not going to cry, are you?”

“Of course not! I just have something in my eye,” he cried out while he wiped his eyes.

Y/N let out a giggle. “Well, make sure to train hard. I want to see Karasuno go to the Nationals, ok?”

“Yosh! I’ll do my best!”

She just waved happily and turned to leave the classroom. Nishinoya hurried to show off his goods to Tanaka in the gym.

He ran all the way there before finding his shaved friend just about to enter the gym.

“Yo, Ryu! Look what Y/N gave me!” Nishinoya proudly showed off his gift.

“Whoa, all of that? Did you blackmail her?” Tanaka asked teasingly.

“Nah, she said she wants to see our team at the Nationals and told me to train hard! It’s like I have my very own cheerleader.”

Tanaka looked at Noya tentatively again and Noya’s face dropped at the expression.

“What? You keep looking at me like that.”

“Nothing. I just find it interesting that Y/N’s so nice to you. Do you think she likes you?”

Nishinoya’s face burned at the accusation and he quickly denied it.

“No way! Y/N’s just nice like that and she’s helpful with all her classmates. I mean she and I have gotten close lately, but I don’t think she likes me like that.”

“But does she give snacks to other boys? Or help them study? Does she treat them the same way she treats you?”

The questions left Nishinoya a bit speechless and unable to respond coherently.

“S-still I don’t think she likes me, Ryu! There’s just no way!” He burst into nervous laughter and swerved around Tanaka to head up to the changing rooms.

As he climbed the stairs all he could think about was, ‘Y/N’s pretty and tall there’s just no way she would like me. Absolutely no way!’

16 times

Most of his class was heading out to their Thursday lab class that occurred in another building. He was sluggishly making his way to chemistry which he wasn’t ok with. Because no Friday should ever end with a class as awful as chemistry (still not as bad as literature though)!

He wanted to practice volleyball some more after their practice match with Nekoma. Next time he was going to receive all the serves headed his way. His thought process was broken by high pitched squealing.

“Ehhhh? Is that Y/N-san’s boyfriend?” a girl called out.

As soon as he heard the word “boyfriend” and “Y/N” in the same sentence, his head snapped so quickly towards the group of girls talking that he could feel a kink in the back of his neck.

He looked towards Y/N and what looked like a familiar boy. Wait, was that Tsukishima? Since when did she know him?

“No way! I think he’s a first year. Look she’s handing some papers to him. It’s probably student council business.”

Sure enough, Y/N handed Tsukishima a huge stack of papers to which he took and bowed to the older girl in thanks.

“Oh, that makes sense. But don’t they look so cute though? Look, their height difference is only a few centimeters. They match so well,” his classmate said eagerly to her friend.

Nishinoya waited to hear the group of girls disagree with a frown. Only for that frown to get deeper when he heard resounding approval. Did they not know how rude Tsukishima was or how crappy his personality was? Y/N wouldn’t ever be happy with a guy like that! She needed someone who could appreciate how caring she was, not someone who would take advantage of her kind nature.

With that in mind, he rushed to rescue his friend before Tsukishima could get his claws in her.

“Hey Y/N, aren’t you going to chemistry? It’s time,” he said as he budged into their conversation.

Y/N’s eyes widened and checked the watch on her wrist. “Shoot! You’re right. Anyway, Tsukishima-san make sure to deliver that to your sensei.”

Tsukishima only nodded respectfully. “Will do. Ja! Senpai and Y/N-senpai.” He threw a weird, confused look at Nishinoya who kept sending him hostile glares.

As soon as he left, Nishinoya grabbed Y/N’s wrist and pulled her away.

“Stay away from him, Y/N. He’s on the volleyball team and he has a very nasty personality.”

“Huh? Do you mean Tsukishima-san? Are you sure? He was pretty polite to me,” she replied as she kept up with his pace easily.

“Oh, that’s a façade trust me. He always has something smart to say sooner or later. I still can’t believe he had the nerve to talk crap about Rolling Thunder!”

Y/N let out a giggle. “Rolling Thunder? What’s that?”

Nishinoya’s face lit up as he proceeded to explain how cool his super-duper receive was. And how he was called the deity of Karasuno’s volleyball team.

Soon enough the two had arrived at the lab and sat down at their assigned seats. Chemistry passed by him slowly as the teacher droned on and on about molarity. Even the lab that involved freezing and melting water by a flame turned out to be boring. Finally, the lab ended, and he was just about to zip out of there to head to practice when he heard the same group of girls again.

“Ne Y/N-san, which one of those boys would you date? Mai here thinks you suit Nishinoya-san, but I think you would suit that tall blonde boy that you were talking to earlier.”

Another voice interrupted, “aren’t Y/N and Nishinoya-kun close? I think it would make sense.”

“Yeah, but he’s so short! How would they even kiss? Don’t they have like a 10 cm height difference? It would be too weird.”

The girls burst into laughter and his heart dropped. He knew the idea of Y/N liking him was too farfetched and even if she did it wouldn’t work out. So, without hearing what Y/N had to say he left the area in a hurry.

20 times.

He could feel the pressure surrounding the court, suffocating him and the team. They had to defeat Aoba Johsai to get to the finals. Apparently, his team had beaten Seijoh before in a practice match, but it was without their usual setter. “The Grand King” as he was called by Shoyo. A competent setter really made all the difference, huh. Well, Oikawa was better than competent, but Nishinoya really didn’t want to admit that right now. He was annoying in middle school and he was annoying now.

He blew a breath through his teeth as he once again caught a serve by Oikawa. The power of the serve had struck his forearms making them alarmingly red. He could feel the spirit of his team dimming as the rally continued. What should he do? He was getting the serves, but they were still trailing behind Seijoh.

“Fighto! Noya-kun! Fighto!” a familiar voice called out.

He looked up to see Y/N cupping her hands and cheering for him. Nishinoya felt relief flooding through him. She had let him know that she would be a bit late and she had missed several of their matches already. But now she was finally here. His lips trembled and he could feel his vision get watery. Quickly blinking the moisture away, he felt his spirit rekindle.

“Yosh! Everyone don’t worry about the match! I’ll protect the court, so you guys make sure to get those points! After all, I got your back,” he finished off with a wide grin.

Immediately, he could see Daichi relax and let out a small smile. Hinata and Kageyama exchanged a look and nodded. Even Tsukishima’s tense shoulders seem to drop a little. Their spirits renewed, the team quickly readied their stance and faced Seijoh once again.

21 times.

The defeat weighed upon the team as they moved through the building to get to the bus. They were going to head back to Karasuno and go to a nearby restaurant afterward. The team was quiet contemplating their loss silently, each of them coping with it differently. As for himself, he felt disappointed and upset of course, but there was still a drive burning inside of him. Seeing the libero on Seijoh cross the line and actually set up the ball, was inspiring. He wanted to try it out for himself for future matches like in the Spring High. However, there was still the somber atmosphere and he knew it wasn’t the right time to talk about future training just yet.

“Noya-kun!”

Nishinoya looked back to see Y/N running towards him. Daichi placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You have five minutes. Meet us at the bus.” He nodded in reply and the team left without him.

“Hey Y/N, I’m sorry…,” he began.

“Why are you sorry?”

He looked up at her face to see it scrunched up in confusion.

“B-because we lost. You told us to go to Nationals and we couldn’t go.”

“Are you kidding? You guys were amazing! I don’t know much about volleyball, but so many people in the audience were surprised by Karasuno. Apparently, Aoba Johsai is an amazing school, and the fact you guys lost by two points? I’m-m. I don’t know what to say! I’m speechless,” Y/N spat out in a rush, giddy in her excitement.

Y/N bent down a little and wrapped her hands around his waist. She pulled him close and he could feel her body heat against his.

“I’m so proud of you. I had no idea you were so good at volleyball,” she whispered.

His heartbeat sped out of control and he started to feel dizzy from the smell of her sweet perfume and the feeling of her soft skin against his. Why was he feeling this way? Wasn’t this how he usually felt around Kiyoko-san and other cute girls? The realization hit him hard. Was he actually starting to like her? And not just in a joking, faux way he did with Kiyoko-san, but in a way that involved heart fulfilling confessions?

Nishinoya could feel himself panic and his body stiffened at the close contact. Y/N noticed right away his body’s reaction and stumbled back quickly.

“Oh gomen. I-I got too excited,” Y/N said as she blushed.

“It’s fine,” he trailed off watching as Y/N nervously played with her hair. He eyed the prominent blush on her face. Why was she acting like….. Oh. Oh. He wanted to immediately deny it like he had done with Tanaka all those weeks ago, but it was hard to when the evidence was right in front of his eyes.

He had to go. He had to go now!

“Listen Y/N, the team’s waiting for me. I have to get on the bus.”

She smiled and replied, “of course. I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

School? Oh, hell he didn’t even think about that.

“Yeah, sure,” he got out before leaving her behind. He had a lot to think about.

25 times.

Nishinoya wasn’t trying to avoid Y/N on purpose. He still greeted her in class, but he was just no longer engaging her in inane conversation like he did every day. He had a lot to think about. Again, how he didn’t notice her feelings earlier; he had no idea. She wasn’t obvious but when they were alone her earnest gaze was hard to ignore.

As he tried to get himself together, Nishinoya knew he was making Y/N upset by ignoring her. But he couldn’t help himself. Sure, he was the definition of a man who was girl-crazy, but it was all in good fun. He wasn’t seriously pursuing anyone even Kiyoko-san knew that. But this situation was very real and very complicated. In the end, it could cost him the one female he managed to somehow befriend. Still, he wouldn’t have known that Y/N was going to use the opportunity to be honest.

“Noya-kun, can we talk alone?” Y/N asked one afternoon as he was readying to flee the classroom.

“O-oh, I’m not sure. Daichi-san might make me do laps for being late,” he replied flustered at her request.

“Please. It won’t take long,” she pleaded.

Hearing the urgency in her voice, he could no longer refuse. “Alright.”

They walked out of the classroom and she led him behind one of the older science buildings.

She stood in front of him, clenching and unclenching the grip on her bag before she hesitantly spoke.

“N-noya-kun, I have something to tell you.”

Nishinoya felt his eyes widened.

“I know we have become really good friends over the last few months. But I can’t help myself. I really like you! Please accept my feelings!” she said before bowing to him.

“I can’t, Y/N. I don’t really think of you that way. I’m sorry.”

Y/N stood up and looked a bit shocked. Her face that was previously flushed with nervousness drained and became pale.

Nishinoya bowed in return and said, “I’m really sorry. I hope we can still be friends.”

Still looking quite aghast she replied in a small voice, “I-I…. of course, Noya-kun. I just need a little time that’s all.”

He hesitated for a minute as he tried to explain why he was saying no. That he was confused with his own feelings, but before he could begin, Y/N ran off without another word.

“Y/N! Wait up!” He ran after her and caught her wrist, forcing her to turn around and face him.

Her face was wet with tears. “Please, I have to go.”

Stupefied at making Y/N cry, he let her go without another word. He only watched as she got farther and farther away, he couldn’t help but think that he made a mistake.

25 times

He could distantly hear volleyball hitting the gym floor and the sound of someone saying, “nice kill.” But it all seemed to fade away.

Daichi hollered, “alright, let’s do another penalty drill.”

Nishinoya absentmindedly followed his teammates doing another round after they lost again to Fukurodani.

“Oy Noya, this way. We have to run up the hill now. Practice is done for the day,” Tanaka said as he dragged him.

“Right. Gomen,” Nishinoya muttered.

As he ran up the hill, he didn’t notice Tanaka looking at him worriedly. He approached Nishinoya after he was lying at the bottom of the hill and panting for his life.

“Let’s talk, me and you. There’s something bothering you,” Tanaka blurted out.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. Just the losses are getting to me that’s all.”

“Bull! I’m your best friend I know these things.”

Nishinoya looked around to see the rest of the Karasuno members busy trying to catch their breath or getting water.

He sat up and plucked the grass on the hill. “Y/N confessed to me before the training camp.”

“What?!” Tanaka yelled out.

Nishinoya got startled by Tanaka’s volume and crushed the grass blades in his hand by accident.

“Shhhhh! Quiet!” he ordered, “do you want everyone to hear?”

They turned around to see the rest looking at them weirdly before assuming it was just the duo being their obnoxious selves and going back to relaxing.

“Noya, you bastard! You got a girlfriend before me! I’m happy and sad at the same time,” Tanaka blubbered trying to hug Nishinoya.

“Ugh! Get off me, Ryu! You’re sweaty and it’s too hot.”

He sighed with relief when his excitable friend finally got off him. “And no, I didn’t. I rejected her.”

Tanaka burst out laughing. “I’m sorry I think I heard you wrong. I thought you just said you rejected a pretty girl asking you out.”

“I did reject her! And she ran off crying.” Nishinoya said desolately.

Tanaka ran his fingers over his shaved head, trying to pull his nonexistent hair in fury.

“What?! Why?! This was your chance and don’t give me that bullshit about not liking her that way! You do I can tell! When you and I talk about Kiyoko-san, you get all excitable. But when you’re talking about Y/N you’re actually quiet and serious for the first time.”

Was he like that for real? He had no idea. All he knew was that he had messed up. That day after he rejected her, Y/N was polite as if they were acquaintances. There was this barrier between the two despite being their desks only a few feet away. She never ignored him, but she kept this façade by ignoring personal questions and answering noncommittally whenever she could.

“But you still haven’t told me why you rejected her,” Tanaka continued.

“Because! Y/N’s 172 cm and I’m what 159 cm? Why would she want to date someone like me anyway?”

“Baka!” Tanaka hit the top of Nishinoya’s head. “Didn’t you say that height doesn’t matter and that you’ll fight with your life?”

He clutched the top of his head and moaned. “Ryu, you bastard! That’s with volleyball! You can’t apply the same thing with dating, dumbass!”

“Yes, I can! You think that if Kiyoko-san was over 190 cm I would stop pursuing her? No way! I would still build shrines to my gigantic goddess every single day if I have to! Who cares about height in volleyball or love? Besides, Y/N already knows about your damn height. She sees you every single day and she still confessed! Doesn’t that mean she doesn’t care in the first place?”

The words echoed in his head. Ryu was right! He was so caught up in his insecurities that he hadn’t realized that Y/N never cared about his flaws. Never once did she call him out on his height or even comment about it. The only time she did get annoyed with him was when he refused to study or asked to copy her work again.

“Ryu, you genius! You’re right!” Nishinoya said cheerfully pushing himself on Tanaka’s shoulders.

Tanaka put his hands on his hips and threw his head back as he laughed gleefully. “Of course! You better fix things with Y/N when we get back. Until then get your head back in the game, Noya. Karasuno needs our libero.”

He felt his spirits being uplifted, the rejection no longer weighing as heavily as before.

“Yosha! I want to practice some more. Wanna help me with something, Ryu? I have something I wanna try,” he asked thinking of the tactics that libero used during the Seijoh match.

26 times

He could hear Y/N’s tinkling laughter as she covered her mouth to giggle whatever dumb shit his classmates were telling her. She never covered her mouth with him instead laughing with tears in her eyes desperately trying to breathe while he laughed along with her. She never had to pretend in front of him. But the fact she would rather entertain whatever they were asking her instead of hanging out with him before morning classes began, hurt. But could he blame her? Why would she want to talk to someone who rejected her? Still, at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel that maybe Y/N’s feelings weren’t as genuine as he thought they were. Because there she was acting normally with other people.

He let out a sigh of relief as the bell rang not because he was excited about class. Rather it meant Y/N had to return to her seat and all the boys surrounding class president Mai’s seat also had to go back.

“Hey Y/N, how was your break?” he asked tentatively.

She spared him a glance and a muted smile.

“Good.” She reached inside her desk and pulled out her textbook.

He couldn’t help the annoyance bubbling up. School just restarted! There was no way she had any work to review, but Y/N was putting on an act like they were about to be handed their midterm exams.

Before Nishinoya could say anything, their gruff sensei had entered and started class. He honestly couldn’t say he learned anything that day. Too anxious rehearsing in his mind on what he would say to Y/N.

When it was finally lunchtime, he made his way to Tanaka’s classroom for some reassurance. Nishinoya was going to corner Y/N before she went home. Hopefully, it would end well and with Y/N as his girlfriend if he had anything to say about it. Again, too nervous to eat, he just gulped down some bread and headed back to his classroom.

He let out a groan when he heard those gossipy classmates of his again. Didn’t they have anything better to do with themselves? Maybe study like the responsible students they all pretended to be?

“What do you mean Y/N has a confession? In the courtyard? W-who is it?—”

Nishinoya didn’t even bother to hear the rest and ran out like someone just announced their volleyball club was being discontinued. He didn’t even bother apologizing to the students he was pushing through to get to his destination. His mind being preoccupied with one thought only.

‘There’s no way I’m losing her to anyone else!’

He arrived in the empty courtyard to see an unfamiliar boy and Y/N standing alone. An unfamiliar tall boy. Y/N and he were the same height.

Nishinoya scowled deeply and stomped towards the two.

“Oy! Y/N doesn’t like you get lost!” he growled out.

Y/N jumped and turned around to look astounded by his appearance.

The boy’s eyebrows furrowed, “um who are you?”

“The guy that Y/N likes and confessed to! So, she doesn’t need or want your second-rate confession,” he snarled as a dark aura surrounded him.

“Though, I would be happy to rearrange your face if you don’t leave right now.”

The boy paled and unceremoniously turned around, walking away at a fast pace. He could be heard murmuring, “what’s his issue I was only passing on a note?” But neither of the two particularly cared.

“Noya-kun! How could you?” Y/N asked aghast.

“Me? What about you? You only confessed to me about two weeks ago! How could you?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed and Nishinoya’s own cheeks reddened in response. Neither of them had spoken about what happened since that day.

She fidgeted a bit before replying, “i-it doesn’t matter! You don’t like me anyway that means I’m free to date whoever I want.”

Nishinoya took a deep breath knowing it was time to tell her the truth about his feelings.

“You’re wrong. I do like you! In fact, I like you a lot! Probably more than you ever thought possible.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “But you rejected me! Why did you do that if you liked me?”

“Because I was worried about what people might think of a pretty girl like you dating someone like me. I was insecure about my height. I didn’t think you and I would work out,” he explained quietly.

“Noya-kun, I knew about the short delinquent with the blond streak since first year. And I never cared about that. I like you because of how much passion and persistence you have. You think I didn’t notice the different pain relief patches on your arms? You think I didn’t notice how much you gave your all during your match against Seijoh despite losing? Or the fact that you’re horrible at literature but still study because I asked you to? I could go on and on-“

Nishinoya felt his heartbeat race out of control. No one had ever said something so nice about him and especially not a girl. A girl that had been on his mind for weeks. No, not weeks. But if he was being honest since the day he had met her.

“Please go on. Tell me more about why you like me,” he said with a huge smile.

“I—no way! It’s too embarrassing!” she squealed and hid her face behind her hands.

“Oh please? I’ve never had a girl tell me she liked me twice!”

Y/N peaked between her fingers. “Did you mean it? Do you really like me back?”

Nishinoya motioned for her to bend down. Y/N, out of curiosity, did as she was told. He tugged her hand when she got closer, to connect their two mouths. She let out a noise when she felt his chapped lips against hers. He took her quiet sigh as a good sign and pressed harder. There was no earth-shattering moment nor was she suddenly the center of his gravity like people would say. But her soft lips felt warm and inviting so he discreetly asked for permission by sliding his tongue between her lips. Their tongues tangled and danced despite neither knowing what to do. It was messy and awkward, but they didn’t care as their enthusiasm and passion overcame their inexperience. When breathing became necessary, he reluctantly separated while she let out a small whine unable to disguise her disappointment.

“Now do you get it? I really do like you.”

Y/N nodded happily and gave Nishinoya a quick peck.

“Wait, what do you mean by short delinquent? Who called me a delinquent? What the hell?” he asked out of the blue.

She burst out laughing and laughed even harder at Nishinoya’s miffed face.

27 times

Nishinoya marveled at the feeling of her soft hand holding his coarse callous filled hand.

“I’ll wait for you after your practice. We can get some Gari Gari-kun popsicles,” Y/N said.

“Are you sure?” he asked worriedly. She already came in early for the student council. She didn’t need to stay late too.

“It’s fine don’t worry.” She stepped down the staircase and looked back up at him. “What are you waiting for? Aren’t you going to be late for practice?”

Nishinoya looked down at her curiously and smirked. With him standing on the upper stair, now their heights looked equal for the perfect angle.

“To do this,” he murmured before pulling Y/N in for a quick smooch.

She didn’t hesitate to grant him entry and let him explore for a while before pulling away. Her eyes sparkled looking lovingly at him.

“Ja!” he called out before running down the stairs. Nishinoya only sent a haughty look to an embarrassed Shoyo and Kageyama who were looking at anyone but him. A hysterical Tanaka came running up to him.

“Noya! You became a man!” The two best friends hugged and thumped each other on the back.

Daichi and Sugawara came out of their gym only to see the second-year duo crying and hugging each other, while Hinata and Kageyama were suspiciously red.

“I don’t know what’s going on here, but I better see you in the gym warming up soon or there will be hell to pay,” Daichi said as he gritted his teeth. He headed back inside shaking his head.

Sugawara puttered over to Hinata and poked him.

The twitchy first year screamed and relaxed when it was only his senpai.

“What’s going on here?” he whispered to Hinata.

“O-oh. Um. It seems Noya-senpai got a girlfriend.”

“Phfft. Funny joke, Hinata. Seriously what’s going on?” Sugawara asked again.

This time Kageyama interrupted, “no it’s the truth. We saw them on the stairs just now. K—k-is”

The flushed dark-haired boy unable to finish his sentence just threw his milk carton away and walked off muttering something about “warming up” and “volleyball”.

“Huh. It must be the truth then,” Sugawara uttered disbelievingly watching as Nishinoya and Tanaka were now talking about double dates as they entered the gym.

28 times

Hinata got on his bike and was now ready to go home when he spotted a familiar boy with a blonde streak. He was about to call out for him when a taller girl stepped next to him. Noya-senpai’s face beamed with happiness and grabbed the girl in for a hug. The two then walked off hand in hand as the sun set behind them.

‘If Noya-senpai can get a girl like that there’s hope for me too!’ Hinata cheered. With that positive thought in mind, he biked vigorously home ten times harder.

#haikyuu!!#haikyu #hq #hq fanfic #nishinoya x you #nishinoya x y/n #haikyuu nishinoya #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya imagine #nishinoya hcs #nishinoya yuu #hq nishinoya #nishinoya fluff #nishinoya scenarios #yuu nishinoya #haikyuu #noya x y/n #noya x you #noya x reader

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tundrainafrica · 4 years ago

Text

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (10/17)

Summary: “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Note: This took a while. I had this written out for a while, I just spent a good amount of brain cells trying to figure out where to cut this. It’s almost done actually. I’m expecting like (at the most) 5 more chapters so maybe I can get it done by the end of March if I muster up the courage and the effort to do all the final revisions to the last few chapters.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Other Chapters:1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Link to cross-postings: AO3

As Levi soon found out, Hange kept a folder online tagged ‘Levi Ackerman.’

The oldest pictures were dated more than three years ago and the first had been one of his cool down after his performance at his first tournament. There was variety in the pictures and they covered everything, all the way from warming up on the bench, positioning himself to run and those few moments right after launching himself in the air to the peak of his jump. She had even snuck pictures of his interviews.

The first time he opened it, he had first checked the dates to make sure he hadn’t been dreaming or assuming she of all people had been a fan. The weirdly strong emotions he had felt at the realization of the existence of such a folder had only made him all the more vulnerable and the last thing he had wanted to do was an act on an illusion or trick of the mind.

The experiences he had on the field clearing jump after jump had become routine over the five year period. Despite the changes among the faces in the crowd, the cheers that had only been getting louder and louder and of course, the oval that changed with the venue, sometimes the only thing Levi did remember was the blue sky staring him down and gravity pulling from behind.

Maybe that was why he had ended up in a state of disbelief the first time she had shown it to him.

How did you not notice her? Levi was sure he wouldn’t have anyway. She was a stranger, one stranger in a crowd of people. Although she may have been one unchanging face in a crowd of thousands of changing faces, she was still a stranger to him. And strangers just tended to blend in more easily.

A valid point. Yet the regret and frustration were still fresh inside him despite it having been weeks since she first gave him access to that folder

She had first showed it to him the morning after that eventful night, after having dealt with a hungover Nanaba. It was only in the evening that day after Hange had escorted her three friends to the station did she sit next to him on the bed and scroll through the pictures herself with Levi right beside her. Naturally, she was still hesitant to show that side of her, she scrolled a bit too slow at times, while a bit too fast at other times.

For a while their roles were reversed and Levi found himself prodding Hange for more details. Eventually, she did share the link to the folder in exchange for links to his story and Levi was quick to comply. They were both exposed anyway, there was no need for any more secrets between them. Only one condition that had seemed a little too frivolous at first glance, yet somehow Levi understood it.

Hange requested that he go through the pictures when she wasn’t around. And soon after she requested it, Levi realized he preferred that too. Despite the fact that he did trust her not to judge whatever she may find on the folders, there still existed an uneasiness at baring one’s heart out to someone in words one couldn’t control anymore having written the stories out too long ago.

Consequently, he requested the same thing from her. Do not read it while I’m around. When he told her the stories, he at least had control of his tones, his diction and the packaging of the overall story. Watching her read them, he knew he would find himself doubting the words he had written while at the same time vacillating between decisions to correct his previous writings or let her read. The constant self consciousness that came with the second option had just been too stressful of a prospect. He decided himself, he would rather have full control of the exposition or none at all.

The decision to have no control and no input, to be absent when he bares his heart out was not easy to make. And he continued to feel the traces of that struggle in the way he so easily lost focus and ended up mindlessly scrolling through the folder. His mind had shifted to other things more specifically the prospect of whether or not Hange was doing the same thing then and there.

She was only a phone call away. He could ask. But it had just seemed idiotic. Of course she wouldn’t be checking on it, she had been cramming for an exam that morning in between preparing for her mid semester thesis presentation. She hadn’t even bothered to say any greeting but an ‘I’ll follow’ before he left for the therapist that morning.

He looked through the messages in the waiting room, and up at the time displayed on the upper right part of the screen.

9:43. She was still in the middle of her exam. She won’t be checking on it.

Levi looked at the ceiling above him, allowing the plain white view above him to ease him back to his reality. How long had he been staring at the phone? He closely felt for the aches and discomforts around his body. The dull soreness that made itself known as he stared up at the white ceiling above him only served as a reminder that he had been a little too exposed to quick scrolls and the unnatural glare of his phone for a potentially unhealthy amount of time.

It was his first physical therapy session and Hange had pointed out that he should be early just in case. Consequently, he had shown up at 8:30 for a session at ten.

Just in case you get lost. Just in case there is paperwork which still needs to be filled. Hange would have done the paperwork already. He had ended up clocking that little doubt and that need for a little prophylactic thinking to caution on their end. First times tended to make people a little more cautious. And more importantly, what else was there to do on a Saturday morning other than sleep in?

Either way, that long wait had left him with eyes a little too tired yet at the same time, he was bored out of his wits. He looked around the waiting room finding something else to entertain himself with.

I only have seventeen more minutes to kill. It shouldn’t be too hard.

The atmosphere of the waiting room was nothing like getting lost in nature or on the road. It was stark white, bleak and a little too rehearsed. In other words, it lacked dynamic and consequently. it was too boring to find any amusement in. Of course, they wouldn’t want to stress out any patients with anything too fancy or overwhelming. Yet, the only thing which Levi could have found worth giving more than a passing thought to were the people around him.

And only when Levi started focusing instead on the people and not on the off-white plastered walls of the waiting room, he somehow was able to distract himself from the dragging motions of time.

There was an old man with a knee brace. A middle aged man with an arm in a sling and a girl with a casted right leg. There were others who could have passed up for nothing more than a visitor, until they stood up and Levi noticed in their gait the slight hesitancy to put one foot in front of the other. A small detail which Levi probably wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t looking for it then.

As he preoccupied himself and reflected over the small details that could have told stories of the people around him, that natural reflection to one own’s self had him a little too focused, a little too fixated.

The door to the waiting room slammed behind him and the trance disappeared as quickly as it came and as silently as a bubble that had just been popped.

Levi found himself irritably following the sound of the footsteps that came right after the slam of the door. It reverberated across the quiet and tense room, so loudly that if Levi did look around him, he would have realized he wasn’t the only one who had been so abruptly disturbed by it.

“Aaaand... My rounds are over for today,” The man said looking not at all guilty for that rude awakening. He wouldn’t have known anyway, and as Levi looked towards the front where the man had settled by the nurse’s desk, he might just have been the only one in the room rudely awakened by that sound.

“Ah, Doctor Jaeger, That was quick,” the nurse commented a little too pleasantly for Levi’s taste.

“Not too busy of a morning.” The man said, or as Levi soon deduced, was Mr. Jaeger. He recognized that irritating voice and as he looked up at the man, taking in the gruff features, the blond hair and beard and the rounded glasses, he quickly grasped for the name.

Zeke Jaeger. He hadn’t even said the name out loud just yet, but somehow he tasted venom. Levi though had enough awareness of his surroundings and his own ability to quickly yet correctly guess names to have kept silent. Regardless, he continued to watch as Zeke lowered his voice, possibly whispering something about going out for a drink and some dinner with the nurse in front of him. He found himself silently judging that audacious invasion of privacy as Zeke looked over at whatever paper was on the teacher’s desk.

Ackerman?

If Levi had actually been a little more aware of his surroundings, he would have realized Zeke did not at all say the name loud enough for him to hear. It was the result of Levi having watched too closely as Zeke enunciated those syllables, having noticed as the nurse made eye contact with him and having heard peppers of conversations about a jumper and an injury.

“Oh… An Ackerman? Who does high jumps?.” Zeke confirmed it himself, as he once again spoke a few decibels louder, obviously with the intention of making himself heard.

It wasn’t anything new. The past few months, Levi started to realize that at the least, many people in the local scene were familiar with him.

“My brother’s best friend is an Ackerman too and she started jumping recently.”

“I don’t have any relatives who jump,” Levi answered, in an attempt to shoot that attempt of a friendly interaction down.

Zeke stared at him, looking surprised. “You sure? With how quickly she picked it up, I thought she should have been related to you.”

Levi kept silent, making no effort to look open at all to conversation. Somehow, Zeke didn’t seem to get the hint.

“She’s been sweeping their interhigh competitions since the start of autumn… With the pace at which she’s going, she might even replace you.”

Levi had gotten used to those types of comments, hearing them as whispers the few times he went out, seeing them on a few forums as people discussed his injuries. He shouldn’t have been at all bothered by the statement, having shifted his attention in life to things which weren’t jumping

The blond man in front of him had been crass and blunt and Levi was starting to feel the beginnings of a bad mood. The irritability only worsened even as Levi tuned out the blond doctor. His mind went elsewhere, as he instead decided to seethe silently at the insensitivity of that statement.

A Tale of Two Slaves

Eventually Levi did get a break from that one-sided conversation. But the countdown to that break was slow and painful. He only noticed as he struggled under the trappings of that long and excruciating wait how long it really took for minutes to count down on a digital clock.

An eternity could have passed before Levi was called from the waiting room. As soon as the clock struck ten, Levi could not help but be more than slightly annoyed that she had been late.

If you’re early then you’re on time. If you’re on time, then you’re late. Any other day, Levi would have acknowledged the hypocrisy of that statement since although he was always early to training, he was never that religious when it came to academics. Having just bounced back from such an excruciating exchange with Zeke though, everything had just been pissing him off more than necessary.

It was almost remarkable how he managed to nod in return at the woman who met him at the exit of the waiting room. But Levi soon realized, as the anger quickly dissipated from inside him, she seemed like an old friend more than a stranger and like for all people, as long as there was history between them, he could save a little more patience points.

The woman who helped him up and led him to the room ahead was shorter than him yet had a way of handling herself that made Levi guess that she was at the least, a university student.

Levi didn’t need to guess anything else. Somehow, her name, her personality and the familiarity had all been somewhere in his head.

She cocked her head to one side in greeting and spoke up. “You can call me---”

“Petra,” Levi said. Somehow, he just knew her name. He had been inclined to complete that statement, only to make more real the nagging feeling in his head as soon as he had noticed her enter the room.

Petra’s eyes widened in shock. “Yes, how did you know?”

“It’s on your nametag,” Levi answered almost automatically, thanking the heavens she was wearing a nametag.

“Yeah, my bad. I get a little absent minded at times,” Petra patted her own head and gave Levi a wry smile.

Petra was hospitable. And when Levi thought that exact statement, he couldn't help but think how the word 'hospitable' had fit her so well. It was in her presence. She had this special talent, of finding ways at least to add color to the stark white hospital walls and the overly sanitized tiled floors underneath.

It could have been the tone or it could have been her word choice as she rattled off what could have been an outline of his physical therapy regime. As Levi did figure out, it could possibly have been the unique enthusiasm she had towards the whole patient recovery process

"So you're my physical therapist?" Levi asked. He never really did pick up what she was saying. He had heard enough about leg raises, timings on when to remove casts and knee bends that he at least guessed she knew enough about them to be one.

Petra though was quick to shake her head. "No actually. After college, I have plans of taking the exam. Then after that, I’ll be a physical therapist. I’m just taking advantage of this internship to learn more about the occupation.”

“It suits you,” Levi said. He kept his own comments brief. At that point, he did start to lose a little bit of awareness of his surroundings. His thoughts flew slowly back to his dreams.

Those first two encounters in the hospital had been two missing puzzle pieces. The stories had been an incomplete puzzle set of words and pictures and as he put it all together in his head, he couldn’t help but note how vivid the memories actually were. It took all his strength not to react, not to bolt out then and there, and go back home, to fill in the gaps on his laptop.

He put two names on his phone.

Zeke Jaeger. Petra Ral. Levi could have sworn there was more to remember and to write about.

And who did Zeke mention then? The other Ackerman? The other jumper?

The dreams were faint, as faint as the image an incomplete puzzle would make. Some parts were clear and vivid like a scenery behind a newly cleaned window. Others were hazy, his mind having filled up those gaps with blurry images. But the other Ackerman was there, and she moved fast enough to justify those blurs in the scene. Back when they fought the war, she flew in those cables much faster than he and Hange had.

I am strong. I am stronger than all of you.

A Tale of Two Slaves

The pain that came with his first physical therapy session was excruciating and it only served to further aggravate the anguish and his eagerness to get home before the sceneries in his head faded into faint memories of something else.

He managed at least to keep himself in a good in-between, by repeating the mantra of that other Ackerman to himself as he went through each and every exercise.

They had started off slow, as slow as a walk in the park maybe, a few stretches here and there. While doing some of the stretches and the warm ups, he did wonder if he had attended the right therapy session. Some of the warm up exercises had nothing to do with his knee after all.

The actual challenge came when Petra and the physical therapist he had failed to get the name of, had him sit down. As soon as Petra unwrapped the brace and pulled it from underneath him, Levi felt the weight of his injury almost instantly. It didn’t help at all that he was looking right at it.

“We’re going to try bending it a bit. Maybe put some weight on it if we have some extra time” The physical therapist’s words felt ominous.

The surgical scars and the healed wounds on his knees from more than two months ago only served to rattle Levi a little more. He had avoided looking at the scars many times before during meetings with Erwin and Hange. The few times Hange did pull and prod at it, he had it stretched out on some pillow.

It was fragile. And it felt unnatural. There in front of him then, it was dangling from the exam table, gravity pulling it down from underneath. Levi swore that if he tried hard enough he probably could imagine it completely disconnecting from his body at that moment. And maybe if he did move it, attempt to stand up without the confines of a knee brace as support, it might just fall off.

“Hey, it happens to the best of us,” Petra said.

No, it doesn’t happen to the best of us. In the room at least, there were at least five other people struggling to do something so simple as to bend a knee. But Levi could have sworn, in the outside world he was surrounded by people who wouldn’t think twice about bending their knee.

“Just bend it as far as you feel comfortable.” Bullshit directions. Levi had to admit, he wasn’t comfortable having it bend at all. Just the sensation of having it dangle so easily in the air, at the mercy of gravity underneath was already unsettling.

Was it a challenge then? To get it to bend as far as he could?

The directions of the therapist were flawed and Levi naturally opted for a flawed response as well. The process of bending his knee had been slow and excruciating. Levi found himself closing his eyes a few times, finding some sort of a rhythm in the faint sounds of the heater in the room, the murmurs from all the way across the room.

Or maybe a mantra? From someone a little too familiar. I am strong. Stronger than all of you. Another Ackerman.

And the way Zeke had mentioned it was grating. Was it a challenge? A threat? Was it supposed to be pushing him to go further?

It could have been Zeke or it could have been that phantom Ackerman that had been a motivation at that moment. But something then had Levi’s heart racing, his mind going in circles.

I’m strong too. I’ll get out of this rut. He thought to himself, a weak yet still effective act of protest. It worked both as a catalyst for a burst of motivation and an odd source of rhythm. The flexibility of bending came in slow, steady but continued attempts. The rush of adrenaline came halfway through.

A few minutes later, he was sweating and maybe he had been shaking a bit before that. When Petra had mentioned the optimistic progress and the plan to at least attempt to put weight on his bum knee, Levi was quick to comply.

And maybe a little too reckless. They had least helped him next to a wall, a good place at least to lean his body in the off chance he did lose control.

“One foot forward then one back.” The therapist guided.

As he watched the therapist simulate that same position, Levi quickly followed suit. He remembered, he had put some weight on his leg. Back then the brace had kept his knee stable.

At that moment, the brace was off, and it would be his bum knee, exhausted from the prior exercises taking the full weight.

I’m strong. Levi repeated to himself. Bending wasn’t an issue before. He had been bending his knees, possibly before he even knew how to walk. It should have been nothing, The excitement of a while ago, the adrenaline rush, pushed him further. It had him so seamlessly balancing the weight from the back of his foot, to the foot in front.

And maybe his knee had been bending farther in, the weight of his body on it. Somewhere along the way he did start to feel the beginnings of a dull pain.

I’m strong. To keep going, Levi had to find an escape. Stronger than all of you. It was easy at least, to leave the movements to his procedural memory as he distracted himself with his own musings, willing himself not to forget what he had wished to write down.

Where did they all fit? The Beast Titan… The Survey Corps… The War… The Alliance?

“Levi, I’m sorry I’m late. The test ended later than I expected…” She came as a faint voice, but Levi was too far gone to hear it.

He had only felt her presence then, when the physical therapist called a break, when he had collapsed on the floor in exhaustion, his knee throbbing, his breaths coming in heaves. He only realized she had been watching for a good long while when he looked up to see the concern etched in her face as he caught her gaze.

“I’m fine…” He at least managed to say that much before he closed his eyes, allowing that few minutes of rest to gather his thoughts and steady his breaths.

“You shouldn’t have pushed yourself too hard. This is just your first session,” Hange said from right next to him.

He still had enough energy to process those words at least.

A Tale of Two Slaves

That night, Levi gripped his dream catcher a little tighter and pressed it close to the back of his phone as he scrolled through google links on the other Ackerman.

It hadn’t been hard to find her at all. Zeke’s tirade that morning had been more than a guide enough.

High school. Ackerman. High Jump. Those were the only three keywords he needed to figure out the whole name of that missing Ackerman. For a moment, he had expected to find his own articles, and had braced himself for the pain of sifting through old articles about himself in between looking at hers.

It turned out Mikasa Ackerman had been the talk of the high school high jumping scene for a while, and she had been the topic of at least 90% of the articles he was scrolling through on Google.

A few times they did allude to the other Ackerman. The older articles heralded her as a successor to the rookie Levi Ackerman, the newer ones that were dated past his injury called her the brand new Ackerman, a replacement.

A replacement to damaged goods. Levi had to add that part himself, an attempt to make a joke out of his shitty situation as he closed that last article. “Mikasa Ackerman,” Levi repeated those words so quietly to himself as he dropped the dreamcatcher haphazardly onto the table in front of him. It had been useless at that moment. Or maybe at the least it had been the reason he felt a little too frustrated at having looked through too many articles that evening.

He looked to Hange who was sitting on the dining table, looking deep in thought on something on her laptop. Mid semester presentations for her thesis proposal were coming up, along with a few new exams next week. She had been conscious enough to point that out at least and Levi happily gave her the space she needed.

The turmoil inside him at first seemed difficult to pacify. Just watching Hange so focused and deep in thought had helped somehow quell whatever unresolved tensions and feelings were settling in his stomach then.

Maybe if he talked to her, the tensions might just disappear altogether. Levi deemed it worth the effort at least. “Hange? You okay?” He asked

Hange’s head shot up and she looked straight at him almost instantly. “Sorry, how long were you calling me? I’ve just been a little too focused on my exam on Monday and the thesis presentations on Wednesday… I don’t think I’ve been in the right mind for a while…”

Levi saw it in the way she looked at him, she hadn’t been focusing on his eyes. It was as if she were still probably seeing whatever words or numbers she was studying. She had been like that the past week since the line up of the thesis presentations were released along with the midterms schedules for all the exams.

Their kiss, their one night in the bedroom almost forgotten. Levi was sure though there was something that had been bothering her, maybe something that extended beyond academics.

I can ask about that after finals. Levi thought to himself, pushing aside that bout of concern. He could start with a light question at least, which didn’t involve Hange too much. “Have you heard of Mikasa Ackerman?”

“Mikasa Ackerman? The high school high jumper?” Hange asked. “Maybe I have been following her too… Lately...”

“She’s really good apparently.”

“Her jumping positions reminded me a lot of yours, so she had been fun to watch. I always did want to ask… Is she related to you? I did some research but I don’t see much which connect you both other than a few articles comparing you as jumpers and maybe speculating a relationship.”

Levi shook his head. “I never heard of her… Until today… A doctor mentioned her back in the hospital before my therapy session.”

“She only started making waves last month when her school made it to the regional competitions. No one really follows the district and the interschools… And apparently she only started jumping recently, during summer and she only started breaking records during the regionals,” Hange said. “That is… According to what I’ve read up on her.”

“So, you have been following her?”

“I still watch videos during study breaks,” Hange admitted. “And she just broke a few records a few weeks ago, of course they’d show up in my feed.”

“And you didn’t feel the need to ask me about it before? About an Ackerman doing the same jumping positions I did? You didn’t want to talk about it?”

“I thought of asking you about it maybe after exams. Besides, do you want to talk about jumping? After everything that happened?”

Levi put his phone down beside him and looked up at the ceiling above him. Of course he wouldn’t have heard of her until then, he had purged himself of all track and field news since the injury. The tournament with Nanaba and Mike and the round of research on Mikasa have been two exceptions and the feelings after that had only reminded him why he had spent his days actively making the effort not to think of the life he used to have. "I told you I'm fine," he said. He half meant that part at least, the writing had helped.

"No you aren't.”

Levi found himself shocked by how certain Hange’s tone had been. And for a second, maybe he had been a little irritated at the audacity of it all. Who was she to assume how he felt? But the surprise and the irritability had him silent and listening. Hange always had a reason for her conclusions. She never made assumptions so easily, he had known her enough lifetimes to be sure of that.

“There's a certain sadness to knowing you can't do what you used to before.” Hange continued. “I think everyone feels it, even a bit."

"A certain... sadness?" Levi asked.

"Wait, that does sound vague... Lemme think of an example." Hange paused for a second, looking up in thought. "Like maybe if you imagine people who’ve been skating or people who've been playing instruments their whole childhood. When they stop training or practicing these things altogether, these people can feel themselves lose their motor skills or their thinking skills that got them jumping double axels or playing arpeggios or pulling off vibratos like they’re second nature. And when they come back to it years later, I’m sure everyone feels the sadness or some sort of a frustration, looking back at their old self and processing the realization that they can’t bring their body or their mind to do something as effortlessly as they had done it many years before. Processing how they ended up so weak, so stupid after abandoning their old passions for so long."

“What if I’m an exception?” Levi challenged, still a little annoyed at such an assumption and at such a long unsettling tirade.

Hange shook her head. “You’re not. For a while, I wanted to entertain the possibility that maybe you and I are exceptions, maybe we can easily jump from one passion to another. When I was watching you during therapy though. I saw the terror in your eyes, the frustration, the sadness. ‘Why isn’t my body moving the same way it used to?’ Maybe you don’t want to think back to jumping because you don’t want to see how quickly your body has forgotten the motions, how quickly it had lost the flexibility and the strength to carry you over the two meter bars…” Hange trailed off. She avoided his gaze and for a while she had been staring at the blank wall in front of her. For a second after that, she did look to him, and there was a glint of realization in that. Realization at what she had just implied possibly. "But you know what, you might just be an exception. Maybe I’m just projecting." Hange added a second later.

Levi was sure though from the quick change of tone that accompanied those last words that Hange probably didn't mean it. On top of that, having heard Hange's small lecture, Levi almost immediately realized he wasn't at all an exception.

Her voice had been light as she mentioned that last sentence. It could have been a thoughtless comment. Hange didn’t make too many thoughtless comments though. “Projecting?” Levi asked.

Hange let out a short light laugh “I’m talking too much, I should go back to work…” Her words seemed like a band-aid, a lazy coverup for whatever emotions had supported such a tirade in the first place.

Projecting? There was a reason behind that word use and Levi was more than eager to press on it.

Hange wasn’t listening anymore though. She was buried once again in whatever subject she had chosen to study for that night. She was in work mode again and she had gotten back to that mode as quickly as she had fallen out of it.

All questions can wait until after her exam week. Levi told himself. The word ‘projecting’ had stayed though. Hange’s words had left its mark and maybe it did have Levi reflecting on his own feelings, his own fear and his own frustrations at his regressing skills, the painful awareness of his body that was slowly forgetting the motions he had built over years. At the end of that tunnel of reflection, he did end up thinking back to that word.

Projecting. She had to be feeling something for herself to say something like that right?

Hange what are you projecting?

And that at least distracted Levi enough, enough for him to ignore the dull pain in his left knee, channel his focus elsewhere. The next few days, having been left alone in the apartment while Hange went about classes, lab work and library visits, Levi did manage to channel his energies to academics or to filling his gaps in his own stories: Levi Special Squad, the Beast Titan and something about some new rookies in the survey corps.

The pain in his knee never left though. It was nagging and annoying like a cavity. It was a pain Levi had assumed would disappear in time. His left knee had always been painful since the injury.

Yet, maybe his left knee had started to get a little frustrated at Levi’s negligence. Maybe it had started to get angry. It was a creature and Levi soon realized, it was a monster that demanded attention.

The night it demanded his attention so stubbornly, so angrily., it did it through sharp pains that coursed through him like bolts of electricity, it did it through a crushing sensation that left Levi almost unable to breathe.

And maybe it did have Levi hallucinating----Or could it have been dreaming--- of having saved one of his soldiers from being eaten by a titan.

A Tale of Two Slaves

“Connie!

“Captain!”

In his dreams, he had been too out of breath, or maybe a little too distracted to have reacted at the crushing pain that had spread through him like bolts of lightning. The dream was hazy that Levi doubted whether he had been completely rooted in anything or not.

He had been flying. He had been in pain. And he had been pushing past the pain, slicing at a titan in every direction. And when he had seen one of his soldiers unconscious, about to be eaten by a titan, he had jumped in between the titan and the soldier so instinctively, so desperately that the in-between had been a blur. He found himself in the midst of an excruciatingly painful ordeal. He gritted his teeth, biting back any attempt to scream. For god knows if he screamed, he might just run out of energy, he might just pass out.

When he woke up to the dark room though, he processed almost naturally the fact that the circumstances his reality had offered him were different. The view in the middle of the night, the faint sound of cars had been different. He wasn’t in a battle field and as if his body had been completely aware of that, it did push past his attempts to subdue any reaction.

Even before he realized it though, he had been screaming. Only when his throat burned and the sounds faded into a whimper, only when the tears started to run down his face, only when he closed his eyes and keeled over, a pathetic reaction to the bombardment of stimuli, did Levi realize the pain of having his leg almost bitten off by a titan was still there.

“Levi! I’m here. What’s going on? Are you okay?” Hange was right next to him. Beyond the pain, that was all he could process.

Hange hadn’t been there in the dream. God knows where Hange had been when he was flying from titan to titan. God knows where Hange had been when he found himself, jumping in between his fellow soldier and the titan that had lunged to eat him.

And god, it was painful. Even past the dream, even when he started to realize that Hange was right next to him at least in the dark room at 3am. The pain stayed and it was crushing his knee, it was leaving him unable to even take any sort of a decent breath, his own coping mechanism reduced to ragged breaths in between tears.

“Levi, breathe…”

How pathetic where his own breaths sounding for Hange to have to coach him like that?

“Oh god, Levi, we might have to get you to a hospital?”

How pathetic did he look for Hange to have to suggest a hospital visit? When she helped him up at least, when she slung her free arm over his shoulder and helped him to a sitting position, he did at least feel the unnatural weight on his left knee. What was going on?

Everything after that, came as a hazy dream. As hazy as the fight against the many unnatural looking titans. In that dream, Hange had been absent for some reason he could not yet comprehend. And Levi found himself trying to push it away, instead focusing on the Hange in front of him who had put a blanket over him, who had dialed a number on her phone and who was rattling off medical jargon to someone on the phone.

“Erwin… I…” Why would you need to call Erwin at three in the morning?

After that, Hange had helped put a hoodie over him, she had called one more number. And within a few minutes, Levi found himself lying down on a taxi, half conscious, only hanging on by a thread at the view of Hange under the dim light of the taxi and the city lights.

Somehow, he was terrified of falling asleep again. Hange hadn’t been there in the dream. And she might just disappear if he closed his eyes. As he unwillingly held on to the crushing pain in his knee and the view of Hange who sat next to him on the taxi, he was awake. Only barely, but barely was enough to not fall into another world of dreams, a world of wars and a state of complete chaos and confusion.

Eventually, he lost consciousness but it had been a gradual process.

He had lost some sense of time along the way, his body having been too focused on Hange. The darkness in the taxi had quickly shifted to the stark white of the hospital as he was helped onto a stretcher. Then along the way, he may have heard Erwin’s voice rattling off something about a swelling knee that was crushing his joints and a knee aspiration.

Then there was something about painkillers, an IV, a slight pain in his hand before everything enveloped him again. Maybe at his peripherals, Hange had been by his bedside.

It was a huge improvement at least from the messages of his own dreams. And maybe it was relief that finally had him letting go of his tight yet weak grip on reality. The crushing pain on his knee hadn’t been from a titan biting it off. Hange’s absence in the war had only been a dream.

The last few things he had processed then before completely letting the darkness enveloped him, may have been the sound of a laptop opening next to him, a few wires pattering on the floor below, the sound of the mouse and finally, the relaxing rhythmic clacking of the keyboard..

Hange was right next to him and she wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

A Tale of Two Slaves

“Sorry.” It came out as a croak but Levi was still hoping she heard it. Despite the haziness of the first few moments as he opened his eyes to the light streaming into the hospital room, despite the discomfort which came with a dry throat, it had been Levi’s first instinct to apologize.

Hange looked worse off than last night. He at least picked up enough images of her to know that there was a stark difference between the Hange of a few hours ago and the Hange then. The laptop hadn’t moved, it was still on the table next to his bedside, just like he had guessed it to be having fallen unconscious to the sound of the clacking of the keyboard.

Right then and there, Hange’s hair fell in chaotic waves, her glasses askew. And compared to last night where he saw panic, in front of him, he saw calm etched on her face, an ominous calm that somehow seemed even more alarming.

“Hange,” Levi said a little louder. The concern he felt only gave him the motivation to push past the discomfort of having just woken up. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you saying sorry? Hadn’t everything to this point been my fault?” Hange’s voice was soft, reflecting the ominous calm. It was cold, maybe even frozen. “"The reason the fluid built up in your knee was overexertion apparently. They’re guessing it was the physical therapy session last Saturday." Hange looked away. "I can't help but think... If I didn’t bring you to the tournament or talked to you about jumping , maybe you wouldn’t have pushed yourself too hard."

Levi had listened closely and he could have sworn he heard a crack in her voice. “But the fluid is gone right?” He asked. He noted that his knee was numb and to his relief, the pain had devolved into a dull ache, similar to the one he had been dealing with the past month. Not at all as alarming as it had been the night before.

Hange shrugged. “Maybe it’s the painkillers or maybe it’s the fact that they drained the wound. But don’t count your eggs before they even hatch. Your back to square one. All progress, out the window. Fuck this. Fuck all this. And you wouldn’t have been in this damn situation if he hadn’t fucked up way too many times. Was I pressuring you to jump? Was I pressuring you to recover quicker? Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned Elijah, or maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned MIkasa? Maybe I shouldn’t have let you go to that fucking meet in the first place.”

Levi kept quiet. Watching what had been Hange, leaving her laptop open on the table, watching her pace around the room, avoiding his gaze as she fell into her soft tirade had been unsettling. Even he couldn’t tell how it was making him feel. “It’s over. It happened. So many things had happened at once, it couldn’t have been anyone’s fault.”

“Fucking hell Levi, when I’m supposed to be writing about your injury, when I’m supposed to be writing every single bout of mini progress, writing out the mechanics of the injury… I can’t help but see… you were in no condition to jump. You were exhausted, your wounds from the first time we met were far from healed. But for fuck’s sake, if I had told you to wait it out a week, instead of letting you do jump after jump, maybe you’d be in class right now or maybe you’d be preparing for your next tournament… I don’t wanna write this anymore. I don’t wanna reduce whatever is going on inside you to a fucking case study.” Hange slammed her hand on her keyboard, and sat so violently on the chair, she had pushed it a few inches back.

“You need to graduate,” Levi said. What will Erwin think? What will your parents think?

“At this point, who cares? I’m miserable. I can’t fucking get anything written. I write a paragraph, I get self conscious and I delete it. I write out my interpretation of the numbers, of my findings, my gut wrenches then I delete it again."

“Take a break?” Levi weakly suggested.

Hange had laughed at that. The reaction came out of nowhere and Levi found himself speechless and maybe a little confused. Take a break? That had seemed like a natural suggestion. He had at least spent a good few seconds thinking in between listening to Hange’s rant to have come up with such a suggestion.

Either way, from the way Hange had laughed it off and slammed her laptop close, from the way she had sat back on the chair and looked at nothing in particular, the way she had avoided his gaze through the whole tirade and the fit that had followed, Levi was sure that had been the wrong thing to say.

A little ashamed at his own ability to have come up with something a little more comforting, Levi kept quiet. And for a second, he looked up at the own ceiling above him, and maybe distracted himself by appreciating the view from the wide hospital window, following the birds that were doing some sort of dance in the sky

For a moment, he did forget about Hange. She hadn’t helped at all to make herself any memorable, having kept silent.

The silence in that moment had been too peaceful, had been too otherworldly that it was only natural that it would be broken by even the softest and steadiest things.

Like an off-rhythm knock on the door.

“Hange?”

Levi recognized the voice even before his head popped up from behind the slightly opened door. “Moblit?”

Levi looked towards Hange. The latter sat unmoving on her seat, her head bowed down, her face unreadable. Even as Moblit opened the door a little wider and approached her, she hadn’t moved at all or even looked back to greet him. Levi bent over to get a better look at her and saw panic. A type of panic he had never seen before. Panic, confusion, maybe a little urgency. “Hange? Moblit’s here.” Levi managed to say. He kept his voice gentle, a natural gesture having to process Hange’s face at that moment.

“Hey Hange. Erwin told me you’d be here. The others were worried about you--- I was worried about you. You’re supposed to be presenting now."

Hange stayed silent. From what Levi could see, her face was frozen. Was that panic? Shock?

Moblit continued. "I explained your situation… They said they could push it back until this afternoon...You think you can make it?" Moblit paused as he got closer to her, as if waiting for her to say something. He had his phone out,as if ready to call the panelists at any moment.

"Hange. Go to the presentation," Levi said. It was difficult to bend over and make eye contact with her with her head bent down, her eyes downcast. He kept his words firm, hoping at least that was enough to reach her.

“I can’t…” She managed to say. She left her mouth half open, as if she had expected to say something after. She looked back up at Levi, then bit her lip. Levi could have sworn that was the first time he had seen her in such a loss of words yet at the same time, struggling to get something out.

“Hange, go. I’ll be fine…”

“You don’t understand, I can’t… present.”

“Hey, I’ll help you set up. We have until tonight.” Moblit scooched beside her on the table and typed out her password.

“No, you don’t get it, I have nothing…”

“Hey, I’ll help you get a powerpoint. We can revise your manuscript together. That’s what friends are for,” Moblit pressed as he pushed the laptop towards Hange. “Come on, type out your password.”

“No Moblit, there’s nothing in here. It’s over. I’ll try again next year.”

“It’s too early to give up Hange, remember how fast you got Elijah’s data processed? It helped me a lot.”

“You don’t get it do you?” Hange pulled the laptop towards her and angrily typed what could have been the password. The laptop booted to life and from where he sat, Levi made out the characteristic log in tone of the computer. “There’s nothing in the document. Just the introduction. No preliminary results. No observations. Nothing.”

Levi couldn’t see the screen from where he sat. But he did see the flashes of a changing screen through Moblit’s eyes. He could guess the results from the way Moblit’s jaw dropped and the way Hange just avoided both their gazes, keeping her eyes downcast.

Levi maneuvered himself to the side of the bed, getting Hange’s laptop at arm’s reach. His leg protested the action but that was the last thing on his mind. God forbid, what Moblit was seeing at that moment could have been Levi’s first assumption.

Hange… Didn’t you spend hours in the library getting everything written out?

Didn’t you spend whole days outside working in the lab?

Didn’t I fall asleep every night to the angry clacking of the keyboard?

Didn’t I wake up in the middle of the night to you in the dining room writing out your thesis?

She had been writing at least. The introduction, the review of related literature were all filled out. The methodology had been filled out. It was a far cry though from what she had made in high school. Each part had been furnished with links to sources, half completed sentences and maybe a few question marks here and there.

The observations and the results and discussions though, were all blank.

“Hange… You….” What were you doing? This can’t be it. Levi didn’t even know if he had said that last part out loud. His brain was on overdrive trying to prove his own quick conclusion wrong. He navigated through old versions of the document. His hands were quick, maybe they had been moving on their own and the PC couldn’t catch up.

A few times, Levi found himself tapping impatiently on the keyboard as the laptop loaded each version.

More links, more half completed sentences, and a very empty observations and results section. “We can get something written right? Help make a powerpoint? If we work together, we could get something presentable."

Moblit shook his head. He bent down next to Hange and spoke softly. “Does Erwin know about this?”

“I told him to just leave it to me… But I can’t. I can’t write this anymore.” Hange shook her head as she looked up at Moblit then up at him. There was some sort of a smile of resignation plastered on her face, reminiscent of the laugh of only a few moments ago.

That was what the laugh had meant when he had suggested the break.

Of course, she would laugh. There was no time for breaks. There was no time for work either. Hange was royally fucked.

Moblit left the room, neither Levi nor Hange asked for what. For a few more minutes, maybe for even an hour longer while Hange had been in her catatonic state, Levi did continue to look through her drafts, see what kind of sense he could make of the half complete sentences and the links to journals in her document with his limited knowledge on human anatomy.

His background had him very much unready to complete a thesis proposal on a technical subject he studied nothing about, let alone in the span of a few hours. Having been pumped with painkillers and sleeping drought only an hour before, his brain was in no state either to bullshit what he could. Despite all his desperate attempts to make sense of it, to write out something coherent, he found himself converting it back to the state he and Moblit had found it in.

Levi closed the laptop slowly and pushed it towards Hange. He was surprised and a little relieved to find that she did pull her weight, setting the laptop back on the table next to his bed.

Hange smiled at Levi and spoke up. “I appreciate you trying to do all this Levi but… I’ve given up already. I’m not getting this thesis done.”

It was a pained smile. A smile of resignation. A smile that was so clearly telling him that he had definitely wasted those last few minutes pouring through the versions of her document for nothing.

Levi took a deep breath and spoke up. “Then what’s your plan now?”

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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setsuntamew · 4 years ago

Text

So, Persona 5 Royal, huh?

Full disclosure: I had gotten about halfway through November on Wednesday and finished it out Saturday night, which took uhhh about 65-70 hours? Some of that was sitting there waiting for the PS4 controller to recharge or listening to music in the Thieves Den while eating, but I still feel like I need to own up to how extremely bad I am at making good decisions with my life XD

MOVING ON, THOUGH, HOLY SHIT. P5 was a very good game, but Royal’s additions & changes made it incredible. I like the ending way more; I think it’s more emotionally fulfilling and meaningful, especially with everyone’s more defined future plans. Definitely felt like everyone had more growth in the end!! Which is something I’d always thought P5 was lacking.

Snip snip for spoilers and the fact that this post ended up being too damn long, oops! the last third is basically Akechi feels and analyzing his ending, so......yeah XD

Part of why I plowed through SO much of Royal in so little time is....Akechi XD Like okay, this is my stupid fandom blog, I can be excited about him all I want!!! I got to Sae’s Palace and just....I couldn’t put it down. @dragonofeternal and I ordered an embarrassing amount of takeout instead of cooking because we just had to see how everything with Maruki and the third semester was gonna go down. I’d already been dying along the way because Akechi’s confidant dates are so good, I just. Fuck!!!

Also, look, for the entirity of Shido’s boss fight and the depths of Mementos/Yaldabaoth/etc, we’d look at each other every few minutes and just be like AKECHI SHOULD BE HERE WITH US, HE DESERVES TO GET HIS VENGEANCE ON HIS SHITTY DAD AND FORCED DESTINY!!!!!

December 24th had to be the longest god damn day in Akira’s life because like. Final exam grades are posted in the morning! He goes to school and then dives into hell, crawls his way back out, briefly dies by fading from human cognition, fights an actual fucking god, and then....ends up dissociating in Shibuya until Sae shows up and is like “oh hey thanks for everything you did, please sign up for being arrested now.” And while he’s still reeling from that, Akechi walks up to take his place, like some kind of bullshit knight in shining armor schtick, and leaves no room for conversation.

AND THEN WE HAVE TO GO ON A DATE

I romanced Hifumi this time around, because I wanted Akria to bang a girl who is just so incredibly out of his league, but....it’s not necessarily that I forgot I was dating someone, more that it had been *so many hours of plot* that I was emotionally exhausted. Like, Hifumi texted me and I was just like. Right. RIGHT. It’s still Christmas Eve, somehow. I was at *school* this morning. The whole world merged with Mementos briefly in the middle of this, Akechi is somehow alive, and I guess I’m going on a date now????

I do appreciate how many “god I’m just dissociating my way through this” conversation options there were for the date, tbh. I feel bad though, I really like Hifumi, but I feel like Akira is not giving a date his full emotional attention at that specific time. It feels a bit like emotional whiplash, more so than I remember it being in P5? Maybe it’s because I played it 4 years ago and there wasn’t the added emotional weight of Akechi’s reappearance, but it was just like....a lot, in Royal.

AND THEN THE NEW YEAR HAPPENED. I’d been spoiled on large parts of the third semester, mostly because Royal’s been out for a year already and I’m too curious for my own good. I’d also somehow lied to myself, saying I didn’t have time to play another Persona game right now, and yet here I am, 171 hours of game play within exactly a month, kicking myself for not knowing how deep in Persona hell I would get XD

Which is to say, as soon as the new year started, it felt I was drowning in anxiety. I knew something was wrong, I knew they were in a false reality, but knowing that sure as fuck didn’t make it easier to go through. If anything, it was somehow worse, knowing that it was all gonna come crumbling down, but I didn’t yet know the exact details, only the broad strokes of it. Just. Every time someone talked about something that was wrong, my heart would clench.

God, I’m so fucking tired, I pulled an all-nighter on Friday so I could get through Royal before having to work on Sunday, and I am feeling it right now. Life tips: don’t do what I do XD

Every moment with Akechi felt like borrowed time, at least for me, because I knew what was coming. I spent so much time in Mementos with him; I ended up putting just him and Akira in my party and plowing through everything, including trouncing the Reaper over and over just for the hell of it. I got his ultimate weapons, I spent so many nights in the jazz club with him that he ran out of dialogue options, and I still took him back for more. I accidentally failed to EVER trigger Sumire’s Showtime because every fight was just Akira and Akechi against the world, because fuck it, I’m playing this for fun!! If I want to play with them in stupid costumes and no one else in the party, I’m gonna. Royal did such an incredible job giving Akechi more depth and development: it was all I could hope for, and it made it that much fucking worse to know what was in store for him.

Somehow, I thought it would be harder for me to make the decision to refuse Maruki’s deal, since fuck, fuck what I wouldn’t give for Akechi to be alive???? But I barely hesitated, only really stopping because I had to emotionally brace myself for it, because a reality where he can’t carve out his own fate would be a disrespect to everything their relationship is built on.

I have a whole shit ton of feelings about post-beating Maruki but they’re basically all Akechi related meta so somehow they ended up at the end of this post, I’m sorry XD

I understand that they had to keep the going to jail bit because 1) Akechi didn’t turn himself in, Akira did and 2) it leads to the final events of the game, but let me just say....the emotional roller coaster of fighting Maruki, almost failing multiple times, waking up in jail, the Phantom Thieves & friends getting Akira out of jail, celebrating that, and then getting thrown into Valentines Day was a LOT for my heart to take. Once again, didn’t forget I had a girlfriend, just got too invested in the plot to really be thinking about her. It’s less than two weeks after the fight with Maruki and somehow, everything is supposed to be okay????

The scene with everyone talking about their future plans is such good character growth, though. Everyone feels like they’ve truly grown and are making decisions that, even though they might be painful or hard at times, are ultimately very important to them. It’s a really good contrast to the “almost everyone goes to Shujin and they all stay in Tokyo forever without doing anything for themselves” Maruki’s perfect reality bad end.

Standing in the Underground Mall on White Day, being told I had to get flowers but finally being able to have control of Akira again was....so bittersweet. The fact that the location of the date is the aquarium is a low fucking blow, and I almost threw the controller across the room I was so upset. Like. THE AQUARIUM IS UNLOCKED BECAUSE AKECHI HAS TICKETS HOW FUCKING DARE SOJIRO SUGGEST IT LIKE MY HEART ISN’T STILL ACHING????? God, speaking of that: The fucking god damn Featherman video game tore my heart out because I ended up playing it WHILE WORKING ON SHIDO’S PALACE and I cried a ton about Gray Pigeon because of course they had to dig the emotional knife in even deeper!! Just fuck me up, it’s fine, I’m just dying!!!!!!!!!!!!

I ended up scrolling through his texts to find the group chats that still had Akechi in them, and fuck, it was a LOT. Like. Maybe it’s because I’m too invested in the two of them, but it was probably the worst emotional whiplash of the whole game. Like, how am I supposed to go play happy with anyone while staring at texts from a reality built of lies? It wasn’t real but the proof lives on in his phone and his heart, and I’m still fucked up over it.

HOWEVER. FUCKING. I SPENT LIKE HALF AN HOUR BEING EMOTIONALLY COMPROMISED ABOUT ALL THIS AND THEN DISCOVERED THE BASTARD STILL HAD ALL HIS EQUIPMENT, INCLUDING THE ULTIMATE MALE ARMOR!!! He returned his shit after Sae’s Palace even though he thought Akira was dead, but this time it didn’t get fucking returned to my inventory, so he must have fucking run off with all his shit!!!!!!! Why the hell did none of it get returned if he was never alive in the true reality? Like I know it'll be returned for a new game+ but I like to nitpick game mechanics for story reasons, because one of the things I love most about video games is the experience of them as another layer to the story. The texts from the third semester shouldn’t exist anymore, since they never really existed, but there they are. Akechi insisted that he has a gap in his memory after Shido’s Palace up until seeing Akira on Christmas Eve, but who can say that wasn’t related to Maruki tampering with reality or some other Persona-related reason?

I mean. I got the full and complete True Ending; I saw him in the train station. If that’s not Akechi, then who the fuck is it? Atlus made sure to put the work in to make him a part of not just the main story but also, especially, the third semester, and for what....to have his final time on screen be as the butt of the joke, squished underneath everyone in the Mona-copter? As much as it hurts, his end in Shido’s Palace matters; it fits his character and he gets to go out fighting- carving his own path, really. In Royal, barring the tiny glimpse of someone who’s probably him in the train station, the last we see of him is when he watches Joker let go of the rope to finish off Maruki. I know we got the heart to heart where Akira agrees to reject Maruki’s deal and Akechi insists that he’d rather be dead than live in a false reality, but.....no one even says goodbye to him. It’s tragic, it’s painfully lonely, but it doesn’t feel right for such a major character.

Also, as undignified as it is, for the first time ever, Akechi looks like he actually belongs in the Phantom Thieves in that final moment. He’s never been the butt of their jokes before; they always kept him at arms’ reach and he took himself too seriously to be included, but for that brief moment, it really felt like he was part of their group. He stopped lying about himself for their last month together, and so even if they don’t all like him, they can make that decision based on the truth, instead of layers of lies. His death is all the more tragic for this; a life cut short just when he’s finally finding a place he belongs. But his death was already painful; why make it so, so much worse?

Final thing: I’m gonna be spending a ton of time in the Thieves Den trying to find Akechi’s opinions on everything, but also....hey. HEY. What do those six stars that Jose (probably?) painted on the wall mean? Is it just a reference to Persona 6???? LIKE????? I HAVE QUESTIONS. SO, SO MANY QUESTIONS!!!!

Anyway, I’ve gotta go cry into my Starbucks and desperately try to focus on actually doing my job at work, but I loved Royal deeply and cannot wait to drown in it ;w;

#persona 5 royal #p5r #persona 5 royal spoilers #goro akechi #akeshu #I have just so many Akechi feels I'm sorry #long post #persona 5 royal meta

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tatertotthethot · 5 years ago

Text

The Doms Next Door 2.0

THIS IS A TEMPORARY REUPLOAD FOR THIS CHAPTER CUZ TUMBLR IS RAN BY A BUNCH OF BOTS. 2.1 HERE

Warnings/AN: frequent, casually cursing; comical, gay Jimin; insecure reader; steamy flirting; tattoo/sexualized Tae 🙃. Enjoy~ (TAEKOOK EDIT ABOVE IS ARTKOOK DONE BY NONCONMAN ON INSTAGRAM)

_________________________________

Your tires came to a stop outside of the tattoo shop you've seen online— a brick building, covered in spray paint and street-style art. A sign buzzed over the awning of the entrance doors, with the built-in UV lights and graffiti-styled font displaying the name of the place in neon-red letters. Kink For Ink! The name alone was what first caught your attention last week, when you Googled "Tattoo shops near me" and it pulled up a list, with "Kink For Ink" being the first option. It just seemed so uncanny and fitting at the time, considering the previous run-in you just had with the sex-crazed neighbors a couple nights before. You couldn't help but to click the link to their Instagram.

A profile came up with 53.4k followers, which immediately blew your mind... but you quickly saw why. Every tattoo and piercing, no matter the body-placement, skin-type, or quirky design, was vividly appealing— certainly done by the articulate hands of certified experts. Even in the comments of the piercings that were posted, people were praising them for the "minimal" amount of pain they experienced, despite the fact that some of piercings were done in places you couldn't even fathom the thought of having a needle jammed through.

It said in the bio that the shop is owned by the two artists that work there— Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook. You couldn't find out much about them, all their pictures showed was their work. You even went back to search for a personal account of their own, but nothing came up. You then went back to the bio and clicked a link to the official website, hoping to find out something, but you were met with a disclaimer rule at the top that automatically deemed your chances of even getting your piece done by them, slim-to-none.

• No walk-ins allowed.

• Every request/idea must be sent in through the DMs of our Instagram page. You will only be accepted only if it spikes our personal interests.

Yikes; You were instantly discouraged by this. The piece you wanted was something so common and cliché, that you actually got the image out of a child's coloring book.... It was the cartoon layout of the glass vase and enchanted rose, from the Beauty and the Beast movie. Cheesy, yes. But it was something of personal, nostalgic value. You remember when you were little— roughly around 3 or 4 years of age— when your parents started fighting and would spend all day screaming and throwing things at each other, putting you in a constant state of anxiety. But then you'd go to bed at night and pop the VHS tape, and the movie never failed to put you in a peaceful state of mind— a hopeful one. It's remained as your all-time favorite love story throughout the years. Which, is ironic, considering that the relationship itself was different, but almost as dysfunctional as your parent's. However, the fact that even the Beast was capable of change, and everything wound up so perfect and happy in the end, makes your heart happy. And even now, at age 19, it still puts you in your feelings. The previous remake of a movie is what actually inspired you to get the enchanted rose as a tattoo, after seeing it in 3D not too long ago. But you're only willing to shell out up to $200 for it, at most. You've just started college, and even though Jimin's parents own the house and let the two of you live there, rent free, you're still responsible for half the utility bills from month to month. Blowing every bit of money you have saved up, right at the start of the semester, would just be irresponsible. But $200 was manageable, and you're looking for anything that'll give you a little extra "oomph" to break you out of this introverted shell you've always known. Pushing it off would just delay it, and you were ready for change. The nose piercing you want is just a small little thing that'll hopefully add a bit of flare to the features of your face. These two guys could probably do the piercing/tattoo with a blindfold on and a hand tied behind their back. So, if it meant that you'd be able to get these things done in confidence, without having to worry about the outcome, you figured it wouldn't hurt for you to at least ask, even if they straight-up ignore you. So, after spending an unnecessary amount of time overthinking the wording of your text, you finally constructed a message in your notes and DM'd it to business page, after sending them a small, simple outline of the cartoony rose, and pressed send.

• You: Hello! I've been wanting to get this tattoo done for a very while now, and was hoping one of you will be willing to do it for me... along with piercing my nose? I know it's a very mediocre and cliché piece, and a nose piercing can be done anywhere. But I'm new to the area and I've never gotten a tattoo/piercing done before and I haven't really checked out any other places either because I found this page first. And from what I can see, you guys are pretty efficient and CRAZY talented. So, I trust it'll get done right.... only if you want to! I'm willing to pay $200 for this, but if it costs that much for just the outline I've sent then that's fine as well. But I understand if neither of you want to do it cuz that is really cheap compared to the ones I've seen lol. But either way, thx for ur time 😁

A few minutes went by and you had just unlocked your phone to check the message again, when the word "seen" popped below the message. You held your breath for a second— but seconds turned to minutes, and time went by with no reply, what-so-ever. You figured maybe you sounded a little too immature to take seriously; kind of like a prepubescent 12-year-old asking someone out for a dance... and you blew it. Which was disappointing, but predictable. So fuck it. Maybe it's a sign; you shouldn't get it after all.

11pm rolled around, many hours later. You were now hiding beneath your covers, beginning your "amateur threesome" exploration on PornHub. You were ready to see what this whole "2 guys, 1 girl" thing was all about. But just when you were about to type it into the search bar, you were interrupted by an Instagram notification dropping down from the top of your screen.

"KinkForInk sent you a message."

You audibly gasped, eyes turning to saucers as you clicked on the notif and switched over to the Instagram app.

• KinkForInk: Hi (Y/N). This is Tae, one of the artists of the shop. The tattoo you sent in is worth roughly $100... but I want to run an offer by you in hopes that you'll be interested.

— Your brows scrunched in oddity, stomach fluttering. An offer? For you?

• You: Okay, sure. What's that?

• KinkForInk: I've been looking for someone willing to showcase the custom design I've come up with, specifically for a much more... exclusive version of the Beauty and the Beast tattoo you sent. And if you'd be down for letting me and my partner put it on you, it'll be free. No charge. BUT you'll also have to sign a contract saying that you'll do a little bit of modeling for us once it's done. You think you'd be in to doing something like that, even if you get it?

— Your head spun for a second, reading the message over and over again until you could fully wrap your mind around what he was saying.

• You: Hold on... YOU wanna put a tattoo on ME so that I model for you? And it's FREE? Are you sure about this? I'm not even model material lol.

• KinkForInk: Yes, yes, and yes, you are. You'd be perfect for this.

• You: How do know that? Is it a face tattoo? Cuz I only have 6 selfies on here and you can't see anything past my shoulders.

—"Seen" came up as soon as you hit send, but a couple of minutes rolled by with no reply to the message, nor was he even typing. Maybe you came off a little rude. But it was already sketchy and it was a logical question.

— An image suddenly popped up: a screenshot of your Facebook profile. Then another— and much to your horror, it was the photo Jimin tagged you in last week, when the two of you were swimming at a local community pool. You were wearing a simple two piece, sitting at the foot of the lawn chair Jimin was also sitting in, as his legs were visible on either side of you and his lap was practically framing your ass. The photo was at an upward angle and looked so scandalous— but really, you had just asked Jimin to put sun screen on your back and he didn't want to stand up because the pavement was too hot against his bare feet. But you actually liked the picture at the time; it was just a silly joke and your ass actually looked quite nice from that angle. Plus, everyone knows nothing sexual actually goes on between the two of you, for obvious reasons. But Taehyung doesn't, so you couldn't help but dreadfully cringe when you saw the caption of the screen shot.

"Babymama 💦🍆"

• KinkForInk: Is this you??

• You: Yes, that's me. The caption is a joke tho... pay no mind to that. But this is like, really happening? You really think it'd look good on me?

— Why that picture though? You couldn't help but wonder.

• KinkForInk: Yes. Like I said, you're perfect for this piece. Are you down to at least see what the tattoo will look like? We don't expect you to be experienced with modeling or anything, but if you listen to us and cooperate, you'll do just fine.

• You: Yes I wanna see, and I'll do the best I can if I decide to get it... I'm just a bit shy, is all.

• KinkForInk: You'll be in good hands. I promise.

• You: Okay... are you going to show me??

• KinkForInk: Can't send it over a message, I don't want it plagiarized or the concept stolen. But the piece itself isn't necessarily crazy or anything, just more creative. I'd be more than happy to show you at my shop some day this week, if you'd be willing to swing by.

• You: Yeah, I can do that. When should I come?

• KinkForInk: Are you available after 5 tomorrow?

• You: I am, I get off at 4:30.

• KinkForInk: Great. Be here by 5:30, and make sure you've eaten in case you like the piece and wanna get started. It's pretty big for a first timer and gonna take a lot of time and patience. It'll have to be done in sessions but I hope you have a fair enough pain tolerance to at least get the outline of it done first.

— It can't be any worse than a bikini wax, you thought, shivering at the memory. That a story for another time. You decided on an alternative scenario.

• You: I give blood from time to time... but that's easy and doesn't really hurt that much. I think I can handle it though... maybe. I honestly don't know lol, I'm sorry 😣. But I can try my best. Can I ask where it's supposed to go?

• KinkForInk: That's okay, I'll work with you. It's supposed to go down the middle of your back. Starts between the center of your shoulder blades, and trails down the length of your spine to your lower lumbar. You'll see how it looks once we transfer a template on your back. But if you don't like it, there will be no hard feelings from my end. I can still do the tattoo you want if that's the case, free of charge just for your time.

• You: Oh no, you don't have to do that! I'd still pay!

• KinkForInk: Not if I don't accept your money. Trust me, I'm not worried about it. The nose piercing is gonna be $30 regardless, though. JK isn't so lenient.

• You: Of course. Will I have to take my shirt and bra off for the tattoo?

• KinkForInk: Yes, and for the pictures once it's done.

— Your mind blanked at that; thumbs froze over the keypad. He was typing again.

• KinkForInk: Don't let that discourage you. Again, you're in good hands. You can bring something to cover your chest. And the pics will be if your back as well.

• You: Okay, I can handle that. So 5:30 tomorrow?

• KinkForInk: Yes, please don't flake on us!

• You: Lol, I won't. I'll be there.

"They're gonna knock us the fuck out and sell our organs to the black market," Jimin declared. He had parked next to you outside of the shop, and was now sitting in the driver seat of his car with his door locked and windows all the way up, refusing to get out. You were standing right outside his door, still having to talk on the phone. "And is this Tae-guy an AllState representative or something?"

Jimin is petty. You wanted him here for moral support— which he's usually reliable for— but this time, he's just plain salty right and doing everything he can to remind you of that. Reason is, he's been begging you to get a matching tattoo with him ever since your 18th birthday, and you've always refused because of what he wanted to get.

Cupcakes. Jimin wanted to get matching cupcake tattoos... in honor of Cupcakke the legend. Sorry, but H E L L no.

You rolled your eyes, growing frustrated. He only has enough time to pop in and confirm that these two aren't gonna kill you, and then he's gotta head home to get ready for work. You were already supposed to be in there. It was 5:33pm, 3 minutes past the time.

"Jimin, you're the one that insisted on coming along! And now you're making me late!" you ranted. "I'm going in without you."

"Hold your horses, hoe! I'm finishing my blueberry slushie," He retorted, sassily bringing the straw to his mouth and loudly slurping it into the phone. He then abruptly flinched away from the straw with a disgusted expression, nostrils flared, body locking up; lips drawing into an air-tight knot that was so extreme and unnatural, it caused an ugly snort to break out of your nose.

He smacked his lips in exaggeration to the taste, face falling back into stone as an eyebrow arched over the top of his aviators; unamused and saltier than before... Like you were at fault for that, too.

"Or... Blueberry-ass, I should say."

That forced another giggle out of you as Jimin stiffly rolled his window down, phone still pressed to his ear and eyes still scowling at you behind the inspector shades. He bit down on the straw and withdrew it with his teeth before dumping the dark-blue contents of the drink out of the window, making it a point to shake the styrofoam cup empty of every drop before tossing it over his shoulder and into back seat. He then spat the straw out of his mouth with an audible "PLUUUUH!" of a French accent, and waited until the window rolled all the way up again, just so he could hang up the phone. You scoffed at this as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, scornfully watching Jimin exit the car and slam the door behind him. He snatched his glasses off his face as his cotton-candy hair swayed in the breeze, revealing his scornful eyes right back at you as he gestured for you to lead the way in exasperated manner— as if you were the one wasting his time now.

"Go on, lead us to the grave," He shooed, a snippy little shit. You sauntered away, walking up the side of the shop, then paused just before reaching the glass entrance door, when you remembered how much of a coward you are. You've never even stepped into a parlor before, and supposedly, this was a famous one. Which makes it more and more surreal when you think about it.

"Are we doing the mannequin challenge now? Is that what we're doing?" Jimin sardonically inquired.

"You go first, I'm nervous!" You whisper-hissed.

"You don't want me to go in there first— I'll show out," he reasoned, simply stating a fact.

"Please don't," you whined.

"Then, again, I'll show out?" He reiterated, as if to say duh. "How else am I supposed to break the ice? I look like Timmy Turner's Fairy-Gay- Parent."

You gave him a wary look... he's right. You sighed, slightly kicking your foot in distracted defeat. Fuck, you hated making an entrance to new places—

"Hold up— is that Drake?" Jimin suddenly blurted, holding his hand up to silence you. You honed in on the muffled track playing from behind the glass door, and Jimin's face soon light up like a Christmas tree before he spun around you, unstoppable.

"Jimin, NO—!"

"KIKI, DO YOU LOVE ME—?!"

It was already too late. The door was flying back behind him as he Milly-Rocked his way into the shop, leaving you no choice but the chase in behind him.

"—ARE YOU RIDING? SAY YOU'LL NEVA-EVA LEAVE FROM BESIDE ME— hello there."

You were panting, coming to a stop right behind Jimin, where you instantly latched on to the back of his shirt as you met the face of the man behind the studio counter. And, as corny as this is gonna sound: the world actually stilled for a solid beat... or maybe you were in the verge of cardiac arrest.

A pair of glossy-Black eyes looked up at the two of you; A series of silver-studded earrings trailed along the outer cartilages, peaking out beneath a head of soft, layer-swept hair. It was a Carmel-tinted blonde in color— thick and shaggy, and neatly spilling in waves around a headband that proudly sported a high-dollar brand-name you've never seen anyone wear in person before. G U C C I, it read— Meaning that the headband alone was probably worth more than some of your college text books, put together. It sat just a few inches above a pair of dark brows, that oddly brought out the shape of his cat-like eyes— irises like polished marbles. His ample lips had a sharp, well-defined Cupid's-bow, and a natural shade of pink that fit the porcelain appearance of his melanin-kissed complexion, to the finest degree.

And here you are, looking like an actual bum. You had just enough time to clock out of work and head straight over here to make it in time. You didn't even have any makeup on, and the only thing hiding your raggedy hair from those captivating eyes is your old baseball cap from high school. It took a second for him to take the bold presence that was Park Jimin— who was also frozen to the spot as he openly checked the guy out. He was hunched over the counter, a v-neck hoodie covering the rest of him with a thin, loose-fitting material. It was Black and allowed a full visual of his tan neck, and prominent collar bones. And it certainly didn't hide the fact that he had a pair of wide-set shoulders, either. A pencil sat in his hand— one that was laced with masculine veins, and lot of decorative ink. There was a silver ring on his thumb.. and a very heavy-looking Rolex watch.

The man cracked a grin at Jimin— a boxy one that dimpled in at the corners.

"Love the hair," he humorously began, twisting a quirky eyebrow at Jimin. You subconsciously snagged the bill of your hat as your eyes went a little wide at how mature the man's voice was.

"Love the watch," Jimin retorted, then reached around and gripped you by the wrist before pulling you into full view beside him. "You wouldn't happen to be Taehyung...?"

"Mhm," the man hummed, absentmindedly moving his wrist at the mention of his watch. His eyes cut over to you, and you swore you could see a minuscule reflection of yourself in his eyes, before they flashed back at Jimin and blinked. "You must be the babydaddy?"

Blood rushes to your ears. It's really him... a guy who looks like a high-dollar model himself, asking you to be his canvas model. Your own conscious didn't even know what to say right now. So you stayed quiet and still as Jimin took charge... which was a mistake.

"She wishes, but no. I'm the best-friend— and a gay one, at that," Jimin replied, and you knew he did that for his benefit. Thot. "I'm just here to make sure you're not gonna sacrifice her to Satan, or anything of that nature. I need her around in case I ever forget the Netflix password."

Taehyung chuckled at that, mouth opening to reveal a row of teeth shinier than Chip Skylark's. But then, you caught something behind his teeth that caused your gut to leap. A silver ball... a tongue ring. Your thoughts clouded over for a second.

"Well, I can assure you, she's safe with me," he said, looking over at you again. You blinked, nothing more. His brow arched at your lack of response, but this time, it was done more handsomely as he was still smirking at you. "Still, you don't look too thrilled to be here... You sure you wanna do this?"

"She's just nervous because you're really fucking hot," Jimin announced, unyielding. "You should feel how sweaty her hand is."

"Don't listen to him— I'm gay too," You lied in panic, trying to defend yourself from the absolute truth Jimin spoke just then. You snatched your hand away from him and jutted a finger at the door, eyes beading and lid twitching as your nerves ran amuck. "Goodbye, Jimin."

"She's a lonesome hetero," Jimin told Taehyung, assuring him with a face that showed no bluff. "One look at her camera roll, and you'd see for yourself—" You were yanking him away by the arm now, in a tug-of-war game that Jimin obviously could've won if he really wanted to. But he figured you suffered enough and eventually let you drag him out of the shop, waving bye to Taehyung before turning to look at you with beading eyes.

"I think he wants to fuck you— text me as soon as you can," Jimin uttered with unmoving lips as before he walked to his car. You stopped for a second, noticing he was actually being serious. How could he possibly think that he wants to fuck you, just from that small encounter? And what is the odd sensation currently coiling in your stomach? Things grew awkward again when you re-entered the shop, coming to a stand at the same spot... only alone now. He was still amused, it seemed. And so calm and cool despite this odd, intense look in his eyes. It gave him a Casanova effect, where all he had to do was give you that look and it'd instantly make you blush.

"He seems like a fun person to be around," he noted, somewhat honestly, but more so making fun of the red-hot appearance of your face.

"He's a pain in the ass," you muttered, trying to conjure up a smirk but hardly even able to speak properly from how dry your mouth was. It felt like there was a white-hot iron expanding in your throat. "I'm really sorry about him."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you're here— thought you'd chicken out." You nervously wiped your clammy palms over the back pockets of your jeans as Taehyung got up from the barstool behind the counter and approached you on the other side of it, a whole head-and-a-half taller than you. He was wearing black cardigan jeans and matching combat boots.. his headband and jewelry the only thing not black on him. And oddly enough, he made it look fucking fantastic.

"Mh-mm," You hummed, not trusting your voice. You've never needed a sip of water so bad in your life— he even smelled expensive.

"Well, It's very nice to meet you," he formerly began, and you mustered up the normality of placing your (dried) hand into his much larger one, as he held his out to you in greeting. And boy, was he close. So close that the heels of your spine itches to lean back from the proximity.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I'm really sorry if I'm acting weird. I'm just nervous." — Your mind struggled to stay focused on your words, arm tensing at the skin-to-skin contact. You were extra-effected by the firmness in his grip. You really wanted to look down at all the bold ink you saw dashing across the veiny surface of his tanned hand, or see if those were images or scripted letters on the knuckles of lengthy fingers... But you were held captive by those God-blessed eyes... And that fucking tongue ring. It was infecting your head in ways that weren't necessarily healthy for your current state of mind, as you saw it peering in and out at certain words.

"And physically shaking," Taehyung pointed out, brows twitching down at your trembling hand in his as if he was concerned for it. But his smirk gave off an odd sense of fascination to the involuntary symptom, like it was cute or something? Hm. He glanced back up at you, causing your dehydrated throat to bob as his other hand came to clasp over the rest of yours, swallowing it completely from the wrist down. "Intimidated?"

"V-Very," you spluttered, a small slither of saliva copulating down your throat as you looked back up at him. He absentmindedly rolled his tongue ring over the button row of his teeth as he watched you with tainted eyes— undoubtably getting cocky with that damn grin of his and proudly teasing you about your reaction to him. It gratified the effortless sex-appeal he had. You were even beginning to imagine that tongue ring elsewhere, and you literally just met him. Then, as you felt the band of a ring move along with the pad of his thumb as gently ran it across your trembly knuckles, chills shot up all the way to your shoulder. Oh... oh wow. You glanced down at his knuckles on reflex this time, and saw a four-letter word scripted in black ink across the bottom row of his knuckles, and another word scripted on the middle section of his fingers. A silver band on his naked thumb. STAY TRUE, it said.

"And why's that?"

"I.. feel like you're a celebrity," you sheepishly admitted, your other hand wedging into your back pocket as you had to stop yourself from reaching for the bill of your hat again. Is he flirting? The words seem too innocent for the way he was making you feel. It was getting so hot in the oven of his massive palms, and he wasn't even squeezing you hard enough to cut off any circulation, but yet your fingers were beginning to tingle.

"Mm, no. Just a little popular, really," he granted, teetering his head a little as he pondered the thought. You could see his vocal chords contract in his sleek neck as they project his smooth, pungent voice. "You still trust me?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster. He'd gotten even closer, to where his hand had gone into a prayer stance around yours. You were aware of how wide your eyes had gone from the awe you... you knew this was just the beginning. He was going to be very handsy throughout this whole process. But in a very twisted way, you were more than okay with that. Even if it meant you were at risk of fainting from actual dehydration. Maybe you were in over your head. But you couldn't will yourself away from this now. And then, just as a wide, heart-stopping smile edged out on that mind-numbingly handsome face, the door at that back of the room swung open, and heavy-metal rock blasted through the quiet vibe of the scenery and caused you to jump a little at the disturbance. Taehyung shot a wicked smile over his shoulder, and his next words nearly knocked you out right then and there as you beheld yet another, breathtaking sight.

"Oh, there you are," Tae eagerly acknowledged, one hand still holding yours as he walked around to grab your with the other, presenting you to the.. hulking presence in the room. "This is (Y/N), our next little experiment."

929 notes · View notes

kayte-overmoon · 3 years ago

Text

"Slow Cherry" Chapter 4

(cross-posted on AO3)

Tags: Mild Depressive Episode, Drinking (everyone is of age; no alcohol abuse), drunk texting, accidental face reveal

Snippet: A soft laugh drifted over the line. “Are you still drunk, Dream?”

He hummed. “Maybe a little.”

“You’re a mess, Dream.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks for putting up with me.”

“Anytime, love.”

Read Chapter 1 Here

Read Chapter 2 Here

Read Chapter 3 Here

No sexual content in this chapter.

Dream spent the next few weeks losing himself in his schoolwork.

Every time he closed his eyes, he thought of George, heard his voice, saw his smile. It was wreaking havoc on his attention span. His feelings toward the older man were confusing to say the least. It was easier to hyperfixate on school than to try and sort out why he felt this way about a man he’d never even met face-to-face.

Knowing they were only a few short weeks away from living not only in the same country, but the same city made it very, very hard to think about anything else.

Luckily, he had a hardcore coding assignment coming up, so he locked himself in his bedroom with the lights off and drowned himself in Python.

Sapnap noticed something was off and made sure to text Dream whenever he got food (conveniently always with a little more than one person could eat alone). On the rare occasions Dream emerged from his cave, Sapnap looked at him with concern written in every corner of his face, but he didn’t ask what was wrong. He just pushed a bottle of water or a granola bar across the counter to him and told him he looked like shit.

Dream was sure he was right. It was winter, so he hadn’t properly been in the sun in months—for a Florida boy, that was too long. He’d skipped a few showers, and the only time he’d eaten was when Sapnap made sure he did. He shuffled into the bathroom to scrutinize himself under the fluorescents. He squinted in the bright light, so used to the darkness of his room. His hair was a mess, several days overdue for a wash and unbrushed for longer than Dream could remember. He also needed to shave, not liking the scratchy growth around his jaw. There were dark circles around his blood-shot eyes and his skin was paler than it had been in years. He scoffed at himself before stripping and jumping in the shower.

The hot water burned his skin, but it was a religious experience. He hadn’t realized how far he’d pushed himself and how deep he’d let himself fall until it was over. His last final was the next morning, so he was almost done. Thank God.

As it usually did when he had a free moment, his mind strayed to George.

They had still been snapping back and forth, which soothed some of the ache. But it felt like he was looking down the barrel of addiction: he knew that taking one more hit, one more drink, would land him far beyond his limit, pushing him past the fabled Point of No Return. He considered ghosting George, but just thinking about that made his stomach turn. Sex workers got enough shit as it was without their clients pushing boundaries, trying to make something real out of their arrangements, or dropping them outright without warning.

Dream was so fucking pathetic.

He emerged from his shower scrubbed raw, physically and emotionally. He didn’t feel great in his head still, but at least he didn’t stink. He brushed his teeth to cover all his hygienic basics, put on a clean pair of pajamas, and went to bed.

And just like that his semester was over. He did well on his final—not as well as he’d hoped, considering how much time he’d spent studying, but well enough to stay on track to graduation.

He emerged from his final to find a snap from George waiting for him on his phone.

The older man was sitting on his bed, throwing a peace sign to the camera with a huge, cheesy grin. There were boxes stacked around the bed, the only thing left in the room being his bed.

Good luck on your final! Getting ready to put my stuff in the shipping container. Only a few more days.

Despite himself, Dream smiled at the message.

Dream and Sapnap celebrated the end of the semester that night in the only way college kids knew how: by buying as much beer as they could afford and inviting over as many people as they could fit into their apartment. Someone connected their phone to the sound system in the living room, blasting hip hop music over the subwoofer. Dream knew they were going to get a noise complaint from their neighbors, but he was too excited—and drunk—to care.

He got a few drinks in him and danced when he was pulled from the couch. Faces blurred before him, but he knew almost everybody there, so he didn’t mind whenever someone pressed up against him. Someone else pressed another beer into his hands. He was sweating, the heat in the apartment still fighting the December cold even with a few dozen people packed into the cramped space. His jacket came off at some point, so he was only in his beer-stained t-shirt and jeans.

He could happily say he had nothing on his mind. He was just happy, done with school for the next month and surrounded by his favorite people in the world.

But not his favorite person in the world.

No, that person wasn’t here.

He stumbled to the bathroom at one point to piss, wobbling a little and struggling to aim. He washed his hands and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked much different than he had the previous night: he was flushed from the alcohol and dancing, for one, but he also felt lighter. Maybe it was the beer talking, but he felt good. He always liked life better when he wasn’t in school. And that message from George made him so, so happy.

Only a few more days.

George.

Just thinking about him made Dream smile.

He pulled out his phone just to look at the photo, which he’d screenshotted. They’d agreed they could save anything they sent each other except for nudes, which they had to get permission to keep. But innocent little messages like that one were free game. Dream was thankful for that, since it let him get a fix whenever he needed it. He found himself pulling out his phone to look at pictures of his camboy whenever he had a free moment to twiddle his thumbs.

He wrote a message to George, not really paying attention to what he said. Mainly he just wanted George to think of him while Dream was thinking of George. He sent the message and pocketed his phone. The music became unmuffled as he opened the bathroom door and someone immediately grabbed him and pulled him back into the fray.

Dream had… many regrets come morning.

Before he even opened his eyes, he knew how much of a doozy this hangover was. His head was pounding with the beat of his heart, his mouth felt packed with sand, and his stomach was turning. He felt like he needed to puke, but he was too numb to get up. Besides, he had a feeling he’d only end up dry heaving.

He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, debating going back to sleep. Something on the bed shifted next to him (much bigger than Patches), alerting him to the fact that he wasn’t alone.

After some coaxing, he squinted his eyes open and blinked against the scarce light peeking around the curtains—it wasn’t much light, but it was enough to make him want to die. He turned to see someone’s back facing him in the bed, a dude. Dream sent up a silent prayer of thanks that both the dude and Dream himself were fully clothed. He levered himself onto an elbow to see who was next to him. It was Skeppy, of all people, and he wasn't alone. Puffy was there too, curled up against Skeppy’s chest at the edge of the bed. Dream had no clue how neither of them had fallen off yet, so tightly wound together on the ledge. But they were there, snoozing happily.

Someone was snoring, but it wasn’t either of them. Dream sat up further and poked his head around to find Bad sprawled on the floor beside the bed. It seemed he’d wanted to get in with Skeppy and Puffy, but there hadn’t been enough room with Dream there as well. Skeppy’s hand was dangling off the side of the bed where Bad was; they must have fallen asleep holding hands. Despite his head and his stomach trying to remove themselves from his body, Dream smiled. They were all so sweet together.

He extracted himself from the bed slowly, not wanting to disturb them, and grabbed his phone charger from the power strip at his desk. He slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind himself carefully. His phone was dead in his pocket, so he plugged it in at the bathroom counter as he set about cleaning himself up. He contemplated trying to throw up but decided against it. It might only make him even more sick. He washed his face and brushed his teeth. He definitely needed a shower and a change of clothes, but he didn’t have the energy for it yet.

A soft ding told him his phone was back on. He dried off his hands and picked it up. He had a couple of missed notifications. Karl left one saying he was taking Sapnap back to his place because someone had already taken Sapnap’s room. There was one from his next-door neighbor asking him to turn the music down or they would call the cops. Dream assumed that was a bluff, considering he didn’t remember the cops showing up at any point.

The last notification caught his eye.

It was a Snapchat message from George, received around 3 a.m.

Dream, call me when you get this. I don’t think you meant to send that. I need to talk to you.

Dream’s heart sunk.

What had he sent George? Had he drunk texted him? What had he said?

Oh God, he hadn't told him anything... incriminating, right? Had he said anything about wanting to be more than a sugar daddy, a friend with benefits, a casual observer?

There wasn’t anything saved in their chats above George’s most recent messages. The last message before that was Dream’s response to George’s “good luck with finals” message.

Wait. No it wasn’t.

The time stamp was wrong.

Dream had sent George a picture around 2:30 last night, when he was several drinks deep. He remembered going to the bathroom and texting George, but he couldn’t remember what he’d said no matter how hard he’d tried. He thought it had been a typed message in chat, not a picture.

Maybe he’d sent a dick pic? He hoped not. He had been too drunk to get it up at that point. If that’s what it was, it had to be horribly unflattering. And if not a dick pic, what had he taken a picture of?

His blood ran cold.

He was hitting the “call” button before he could overthink it.

George answered a few rings later. “Dream?”

“What did I send?” His voice was rough. He was trying to keep quiet so he didn’t bother his guests, and his mouth was dry even after brushing his teeth. He sounded like shit.

George sounded uncomfortable when he spoke. “Dream, I’m sorry. I don’t think you meant to—“

“What did I send, George?”

He knew the answer in the silence before George spoke. His stomach dropped when he said it anyway. “You—you sent me a picture of your face.”

Dream hung his head. Perfect. Of course. He’d had grand plans to pick George up from the airport and reveal his face then, or he’d at least make it sexy over their video calls or something. He wanted to make it a spectacle. Instead he’d drunk texted him a selfie.

“It wasn’t bad,” George tried to reassure him. “I couldn’t see it too clearly anyway. It was in the mirror, and you were very drunk. You were a little blurry.”

“What was I doing?”

“You were, like, leaning on the counter. You were smiling. You had a, uh…”

Dream frowned harder. “I had a what?”

“You had—have—a hickey on your neck.”

“What?” Dream stood up straight and pulled the collar of his shirt. Sure enough, there was a dark red mark on his neck, barely hidden by his shirt. “Huh. How the hell did that get there?”

George snorted. “Sounds like you had a fun night.” There was something bitter in his tone.

Dream scrambled for a response that wouldn't put him in the metaphorical dog house. “I don’t—I didn’t sleep with anyone. I would know. It just—my friends are super touchy. One of them probably did it while we were dancing.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Dream,” George said softly. “I’m a big boy. I know I’m not the only person in your life.”

“I do have to explain myself, though.” Dream ran his hand through his hair. “I care what you think about me. I don’t want you to think I sleep around. I don’t. Not really. Not anymore, at least. And I wanted to surprise you when you saw my face. I wanted it to be a thing.”

“Dream, calm down.” There was something calming about the British man’s voice, especially when he used that tone, like he was soothing a spooked animal. Which, for all intents and purposes, Dream was. “It’s okay. I’m not upset. I was just worried about you. I know it’s a thing for you, people seeing your face.”

“Oh.” Dream’s heart was thundering in his chest. It was making his head throb harder, but he didn’t particularly care at that moment. “Thank you. That’s—you’re really considerate. And did you—I mean, did…”

“You’re very handsome, Dream.”

Dream was dumbfounded. That wasn’t what he was going to ask, but he’s glad George said it. He wasn’t really concerned about that particular aspect of this whole ordeal, but it was nice to know. “Oh. Thanks. That’s… you too. I mean, I think you’re—fuck.”

George’s laugh echoed across the line, settling Dream’s frazzled nerves. “I know, honey. You’ve told me before. But let's continue this conversation when you’re not so hungover, yeah?”

Dream hummed in agreement. “You can tell?”

“You were sloshed last night. I could tell just by looking at you. Partied hard, hmm?”

Dream snorted. “Just a little. I don't even want to see the state of my living room right now. And there’s, like, two-thirds of a thruple in my bed right now.”

“Oh?” Amusement and interest tinged the older man’s voice.

“No, not like that,” Dream laughed. “They passed out in there. Their third is on the floor. They’re good friends of mine. No clue when we all fell asleep though.”

“Sounds like you need to get started making coffee for everyone, then. Be a good host.”

“Probably. I thought about ordering pizza. I have no clue how many people stayed over though.”

“Celebrating the end of term, then?”

A yawn worked its way out of Dream. “Yeah,” he said. “We all finished up yesterday so we just bought a bunch of beer and invited folks over.”

“Sounds fun.”

“We’ll invite you next time,” Dream said, his tongue loose from his hangover. Oh well. “I think you’d like my friends. They’re all… absolutely insane. But they’re the coolest, nicest people you’ll ever meet.”

A soft laugh drifted over the line. “Are you still drunk, Dream?”

He hummed. “Maybe a little.”

“You’re a mess, Dream.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks for putting up with me.”

“Anytime, love.”

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#fanfic #dnf #dnf fanfic #dreamnotfound #dreamnotfound fanfic #camboy au #historians will say they were close friends #:)#very close friends #slow cherry #kayte overmoon

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sanakoreanlangblr · 4 years ago

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2021 Goals

Heyy! I’ve decided to put my goals for this year here, hoping that that might motivate me further, and maybe motivate someone else as well. Good luck everyone! And please take extra care of yourselves and your health, mental or otherwise! Everything else can wait.

This year has been difficult for all of us. As for me, even now, the upcoming semester is a big question mark. Currently I’m studying in France, and this semester I was supposed to go on an exchange to Taiwan buuuut that’s not happening anymore, as it has been cancelled. So per my school’s requirements I need to find an internship in the place of expatriation, which is a pain now. And that basically just means I have no idea where I’m going to be in the coming year or what I’m gonna be doing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Sorry, needed to complain for a bit, as I am going absolutely insane with the stress…

Anywayyyy, I still hope I will be able to uphold most of these goals, wherever I will end up. I tried to not make them overly big, so that I won’t get burned out too fast. But I have a whole year for those, some of these have dates for which I could expect to finish but I will not keep to them very strictly. Whatever happens, happens :))

Also, sorry if there are any mistakes, English is not my first language!

Korean (A2 -> B1)

1. Do 100 lessons of grammar from the HowToStudyKorean website.

I’ve started a few grammar books but in the end decided to settle on this website as I like its explanations best, and it provides the most example sentences when introducing each point. A nice touch is also the fact that it includes a list of a number of new words before each chapter, which gives me some new vocabulary to learn :)

So far I’ve divided the grammar points introduced in lessons into „to learn”, „to revise”, „already know”, and turns out I have:

66 „to learn”

35 „to revise”

32 „already know”

So if I did 3 points a week, I should be done around August.

2. Read 2 little stories per week from “Easy Korean Reading for Beginners”.

There is 30 stories in the first one (I already did 5), so I should be done by the middle of April.

3. Do one chapter per week from “My first hanja guide”.

I just got this book for Christmas and haven’t had the time to fully go through it so we will see how it goes.

4. Do Anki at least three times a week.

Every day would be preferable but I know that would last like a week at most.

5. Have iTalki lesson at least once a week.

That one is not a problem as I have been doing one or two per week for the last year, but I would just like to keep it up.

6. Try writing at least twice a month, and at least 2 pages.

Yeahhh that one is a bit of a bother, as writing still takes me a long time so we will leave it a twice a month and see how it goes.

7. Watch one youtube video per week on Korean grammar or vocabulary.

Generally I would say my goal is to use Korean more, as I know quite a lot but when I’m speaking I tend to go towards the easier words and grammar, which is why I am thinking that writing more could help me. And also I really want to focus on learning vocabulary as that’s always been a pain for me, I’m more of a grammar lover :))

French (A2 -> hoping for upper B1/ beginning of B2)

1. Finish the intermediate grammar book. I’m currently doing „Grammaire Progressive du Français” Intermediate edition, for A2/B1.

The problem is that my grammar knowledge of french is a mess , so going through this book is a bit of an annoyance, as most chapters I technically know but each time I find some nuance I wasn’t aware of... therefore I need to go through it, even the chapters I would have assumed I know :|

So I divided the chapters the same way I did Korean, into „to learn”, „to revise”, „already know”, and I ended up with:

14 „to learn”

34 „to revise”

4 „already know”

So technically if I did 2 points a week, I should be done in June.

2. Read the two french books I got for Christmas (“Les aventures d’Alice au pays des merveilles” and “Le tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours”).

3. Read at least two of the Harry Potter books in French.

I have started the first one this week, and I can tell it’s gonna be a very very slow process. It’s the first book I’m reading in french so it’s a bit difficult and frustrating but hopefully it’ll get better as I go along.

4. Watch at least 4 french movies, with french subtitles.

5. Learn a french song.

6. Read one story per week from „French Stories for Beginners”.

These are quite easy, but they are a nice practice for switching to books later on.

I don’t know if I’m gonna keep this one in, depends on how much my reading of actual books will progress.

7. Get to point 5 on the Duolingo tree.

I use Duolingo mostly as a revision tool, so I’m not really going to focus on it much, but still want to keep it up.

8. Watch one YouTube video per week (on any topic).

9. Listen to two podcasts per month.

10. At least one iTalki lesson per week.

11. Do Anki at least 3 times a week.

I really need to listen to french more, as I’m good at reading and I usually understand that pretty well, and I’m not the worst as speaking, but I am absolutely terrible at listening :| So that’s a priority.

Chinese (tbh I don’t know...end of HSK1/Beginning of HSK2 -> let’s say the goal is HSK3 for this year)

1. Finish the book „Integrated Chinese”

I’m having a tough time to pick a book from which to learn but I guess for now I’ll continue with that one.

Again, I divided the points in the book to „to learn”, „to revise”, „already know”, and ended up with:

47 „to learn”

11 „to revise”

15 „already know”

So doing 2 a week I should be done in July.

2. Learn 15 characters a day

I am way behind on learning characters.. I remember the words well but I didn’t put enough time to learn the characters at the start and now that’s gonna be a bit annoying to catch up on :|

3. Finish the drama „Go Ahead”.

4. Watch 3 Chinese movies, with both English and Chinese subtitles.

5. Have one Italki lesson per week.

6. Learn a children song in Chinese

7. Watch one youtube video per week on grammar.

8. Do Anki twice a week.

Generally focus more on characters. My speaking isn’t terrible (well besides the tones), but I need to work on the grammar a bit more as I seem to mess up the structures quite frequently. I need to put more work outside of my lessons. Since I found out I’m actually not going to Taiwan this semester my motivation has fallen a bit, but on the other hand I now have more time to prepare for fall, at which point I will hopefully be able to go!

Personal

Read 20 books.

I have always loved reading but in the past two years the amount of books I’ve read has gone down, which upsets me a bit… On the other hand the amount of fanfiction I’ve read is tremendous, so there’s that. However I would like to make more effort to read this year, especially since I’ve accumulated a huge pile of books over those few years.

2. Workout regularly.

Right now I’m at home, so that should be easy to do. I don’t really know what’s gonna happen this semester, so we’ll see what I’m going to do about that later.

3. Eat better.

Meaning: cut down on sugar, eat more veggies and fruit.

4. Get a bit closer to my ideal weight

I’m not necessarily focusing on that this year as the previous one has been hell and really managed to deteriorate my mental health back to high school levels... but still hopefully working out a bit and eating less sugar, more veggies, I will be able to lose a tiny bit of weight. But overall I just want to focus on being a bit healthier.

5. Clean out my wardrobe

Sorry that’s a silly one but I’ve been getting to it for half a year now and I’m just too lazy to do that... maybe once I put it here I will have some motivation

6. Take care of my face and hair

So my sensitive skin hates wearing masks and needs extra care these days I need to really focus on it and baby it, to not go back to the awful red mess it was two months ago

As for my hair, I have kind of 3a curls which I haven’t been taking care of properly and plus I damaged them with hair dye (still I refuse to give up ginger hair, I blame Merida). So now during lockdown and quarantine season I finally had some time to read up on hair care of curls, and honestly after a month I can already see the difference, and well I hope for the best :)))

7. Get a tattoo

It’s something I’ve always put off since I either didn’t have the money or time. And now again both are problematic, so I will wait for the decision until I know what my school semester is going to be like. Maybe this time I will find a good moment! (Although honestly saving up for travelling after all this is over is also a great idea :))) )

8. Don’t go to sleep at 5

Yeah so during lockdown and because of online classes my sleeping schedule got so messed up I don’t even know what to do about it anymore. And while my goal isn’t to switch it to 10 pm, cutting it to 2 am at max would be nice

9. Watch 25 movies

10. Sell/donate the things that I don’t need

I’ve accumulated a huge pile of books, movies, CDs, Xbox games, art products - that I need to get rid of - and I’ve been saying that for like three years now, about the same pile of things. I will try to do that one this year!

I hope everyone’s 2021 will be a ton better than 2020! Keep fighting!

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