#i especially like when people seem to enjoy how i do anatomy and stuff cause that was always like

[abimee]

sorry if this is sappy but i follow your twitter from a private account and have done for a while because i thoroughly enjoy your art and what you make. the piece thats always stood out the most to me is the one you did of hyth and the caterpillar and digestive tract, i have it saved to my phone so i can look at it when im experiencing emotions. your art feels so well lived in and loved (and i hope its not weird to say but it reminds me of l ike. a very hearty stew. like with potatoes and carrots), your anatomy feels so impactful and has a physicality and weight that i just adore it's like. (explosion sfx). have a lovely evening

i really like this ask cause whenever people describe my art in like positive and Warm tones i get this tingle in my arms cause i think for the lonest time my art used to not be considered these kind words, people often would tell me my art had a rather sad and upsetting feeling to it and nowadays I can see where they came from because both I Was Really Sad when making it, and i think even when i was trying to draw something Sweet it felt lacking in a way i didnt know how to bring forth. Because at that point in time I was just barely branching out into the idea of altering character's appearances and maybe going for something with thinner lines, but i'd flip flop between high and low effort art because being Sad and being told your art made other people Sad was sort of not very good for the productivity of your art and often made me put in as little effort as i could, since i didnt see a reason to really Do A Lot if people were just going to react negatively to it

amnd while i dont personally think my art is like, where it Could be for how long ive been drawing (12+ years now. ACK) whenever I hear that people actually like my art now and they see nice things in it and that it gives them positive funny emotions instead of negative ones, it really like makes me recognize that maybe I have developed and maybe whats best isn't to have the most like, ''developed'' style in terms of like, doing all the Cool Artist tricks like rendering and cool color palettes and these epic emotional comics with paneling that rival professional comic makers.

I think i can be happy with where I am now simply by knowing that i no longer have to hear the words ''your art is depressing'' as the highest compliment I can get, and instead hear things like this where my art has a positive influence on another person in some way. It's very small, but words like this really do mean above and beyond for me, and this response sort of rambled away from the topic but im saying all of this to say a big thank you anon for enjoying my work and for being very kind about it, your words will stick with me for a very long time

[the-insomniac-emporium]

RE8 Ladies + S/o with chronic pain HCs

Type/cause of chronic pain is kept ambiguous, but some of the hcs might seem geared towards migraines, since that's the main thing that I personally struggle with (and these are very definitely comfort hcs). Features Alcina, Bela, Cassandra, Daniela, Donna, Mother Miranda, and as a 'lil bonus Ava. Not particularly long, but the combined length of every character is enough to be put under a read-more (About 2,500 words in total).

Alcina:

It’s difficult for her to know that you are suffering, but be unable to deal directly with the source of the problem. Chasing off unwanted nuisances or hunting down threats to the castle was one thing, trying to solve complicated medical issues was another thing entirely. If only she could tear your condition asunder without tearing you asunder.

That being said, she’ll still support you endlessly, however she can. It doesn’t matter how expensive or hard-to-access possible treatments are. If there’s something you haven’t tried, and are interested in trying, she’ll find a way for you to get it.

The biggest, and arguably most helpful, thing that she does is set up a space for you within her office. She spends quite a lot of time there for her family’s business, but doesn’t want to leave you alone on bad days. So this was her idea of a nice compromise.

There’s a very comfortable sofa that folds out, a cabinet filled with the softest blankets, and several pillows of a few different sizes. Servants are instructed not to interrupt Alcina’s work without good reason, but she has a couple who ensure your snack cabinet is always well stocked.

If there are certain environmental factors to your condition, such as sensitivity to light and sound, she does her best to reduce their effects. Lights remain dimmed (or she’ll rely on candlelight), her music will be kept quiet enough to be soothing, and she’ll refrain from taking any calls while you are with her.

Bela:

To think that Daniela once tried to claim that Bela would “never need to know any of that (medical) stuff”! Sure, there haven’t been many people who have needed (and received) treatment from her, but that didn’t mean the skill was useless. Admittedly, she doesn’t know enough to replace one of your doctors, or try to create her own version of a cure, though no one really expected that much from her.

Still, she knows enough to help soothe your pain. Obviously there are different techniques for different kinds of pain, and she does research before trying anything specific. Bela’s also aware that you’ve been dealing with this for far longer than she has, meaning that you probably wouldn’t be pleased if she came in, acted like an expert, or assumed that you hadn’t really thought about the most popular remedies. So she’s tactful with how she approaches things, always checking if you’re familiar with a subject before she tries to explain anything.

Bela ends up surprising you with a lesser-known skill of hers: Massage. Studying anatomy has given her a decent idea of the body’s more sensitive spots, and the rest she’s figured out through her own, ahem, experiences. Regardless of where you’re in pain, your girlfriend can help reduce your suffering. Okay, well, if your pain is more internal than external, it’s a bit harder for her, but she can still help you relax.

One of her favorite things to do after giving you a massage is to just pull you in close for some cuddling. Preferably you’ll be in her lap, with her arms around your waist, her chin tucked on top of your shoulder. Then she’ll do her best to whisper you praises, reminding you how strong you are, and that she’s incredibly proud of you.

Cassandra:

She’s, uh, not great at this. At least not at first. Maybe she’ll never be more than good at it, though. But she’s definitely trying! And learning! By Jove, that’s something, right?

First things first, she’s always ready to try to distract you, primarily through kisses and gentle touches. Fingers softly trailing over your skin, lips tickling your neck, featherlight in all the right places… It’s not inherently sexual (though it can quickly go that route if you ask), just intimate. It’s harder for your brain to process pain when you’re also processing pleasure, so there is some science behind Cassandra’s methods, even if she herself isn’t entirely aware of that.

While she’s not great with words, there are certain things that she manages to articulate well enough. For one, she makes sure you know that you aren’t a burden. Taking care of you- no, helping you take care of yourself- is a labor of love, if a labor at all. More than that, she knows full well that you probably don’t like feeling pitied, or coddled. That, over time, being sick ends up being beyond frustrating. She never wants you to feel like your condition defines you, or like it puts any strain on your relationship.

That said, she’ll avoid telling her family any specifics unless you do first, and ensures that the staff know how to accommodate you (without telling them why, because it’s none of their fucking business, and she’s their boss, and for fuck’s sake it’s their job to do what she tells them. Maybe she gets a lil bit overzealous with it). At no point will she ever complain about helping you, or otherwise indicate that your needs are “troublesome”.

At the end of the day, the best comfort she brings you is her presence, simply being near you, endlessly loyal, tireless in her affections. Especially considering she gets clingier the worse your symptoms get.

Daniela:

Hope you enjoy cuddling. Seriously. There’s nothing Daniela loves more than curling up with you, and that goes double for bad pain days. Some adjustments will be made position-wise if you need, but she’ll still hold you as close as possible, for as long as you need. Although she might eventually fall asleep (because damn are you comfy), she’ll play with your hair or run her fingers along your scalp until she eventually dozes off.

If you want a little more from her than light snoring, or if she feels like going above and beyond, or honestly just if she’s thinking about how much she loves you (so all the effing time), she’ll do something she’s always loved in movies/books: Reading to you! She’ll pick special books that neither of you have read before, so you can experience them together on your sick(er) days. Which does, of course, mean that it might take months to finish even a single one. Surprisingly, Daniela won’t even briefly consider reading any without you. Even if the plot is really good.

But, uh, if you wanted her to read to you on a day where you aren’t bedridden? Hell yes, my friend, she’s absolutely down for that!

On days where she’s too busy to spend hours upon hours in bed with you, or days where her ADHD is just particularly bad, she tries her best to leave you with a “substitute”. AKA a massive fucking teddy bear, in a reddish brown color, with a green bowtie. Custom ordered (The Duke did not dare tease her for it). There’s a heart stitched onto the stuffed animal’s chest, which features your first initial alongside a D for Daniela.

Additionally, she has a blanket she only brings out for you, which she periodically sprays with her favorite perfume. That way you can hold it close when she’s not around, as if you were cuddling her. For her sake, though, don’t hold the teddy bear or blanket too tightly when she is around. Homegirl here will get jealous of inanimate objects, even ones that she gave you.

Donna:

“I think I have a tea for this…” Damn right she has a tea for this. Donna has a massive garden, with dozens if not hundreds of different plants, including a variety of herbs/spices. At least one of them has to be a little helpful for you. Whether it relieves pain, helps you nap off some of your misery, or just distracts you by tasting bloody-well delicious! Besides, few things make you feel quite as loved as holding a cup of freshly brewed tea in your hands, knowing your lover made it just for you. Like a hug in a mug, it is!

Similarly to Alcina, Donna will also try to create a comfortable space for you, but isn’t likely to put it downstairs with her workshop. Instead she’ll let you take over one of the larger guest rooms, customizing it to suit your specific needs. There will be some easy to care for plants for decoration (ones that won’t mind potentially missing out on natural sunlight), a couple relaxing paintings, and a shelf near the bed with things to help you pass the time, mainly books.

Furthermore, she’ll do her best to keep you company as often as possible. She’s naturally a fairly quiet person, so you won’t have to worry about sound if that’s something you’re sensitive to. While she prefers using a sewing machine, she’ll do things by hand while you’re in pain, just to reduce the chances of you getting irritated by the sound.

Speaking of potentially irritating sounds… by god can Angie be difficult to be around when you’re ill. Thankfully, Donna is perfectly understanding of this, and, as the only person Angie ever listens to, makes sure to give the doll a stern talking to about your health. To your immense surprise, it actually works. You’re not exactly sure what was said, but Angie certainly becomes a lot more compensating afterwards. She’ll keep her antics to herself, and usually even on another side of the house from where you rest, but only for as long as you’re tucked away in your room. As soon as you set foot outside, her restraints are metaphorically removed. All hell breaks loose (as is her universe-given right as the physical embodiment of both Chaos and Entropy).

Mother Miranda:

If the two of you weren’t lovers, there’s a decent chance you would completely misinterpret her actions. She might come off as irritated, like she has bigger concerns than your health, you fragile little human. After all, she is a goddess (well, practically). But the truth is that she’s aching inside every time you have a bad pain day, knowing that (for once) she cannot cure your ailment. Maybe if she had infinite subjects with the same condition as you…

But, at the end of the day, that’s the problem. There’s only one of you. One of her beloved, her little human darling, so dangerously fragile in comparison to the scale she works on. Even with all the time in the world, which she most certainly has, she cannot cure you without taking incredible risks. With your life at stake… It is a gamble she refuses to take. You are hers, and while she hates to see you suffer, the truth is that she’ll always be selfish enough to let you endure on your own.

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t help, though, just that she doesn't do a full-out experiment on you. Instead, she keeps notes. She’ll track your activities, bedtimes/when you get up, dietary habits, when you have pain, what you do to treat said pain, how effective the treatments are, etc, etc. All of this can be very useful in establishing patterns (a skill she’s gotten very good at, in her many decades of being a scientist), which can in turn lead to less pain days.

(For example, many people with migraines find that certain foods seem to trigger a migraine, or at least increase the chances of getting one. Though admittedly they don’t always end up cutting the food out of their diet. I mean, come on, you want me to give up chocolate? You want me to drink normal milk, like an adult? Kidding, kidding, I don’t have any food triggers. Nor do I particularly enjoy chocolate milk, nor do I dislike it.)

Moving on! While her work seemingly takes precedence over your condition, Miranda is not heartless, and she does do some things to lend you more direct comfort. Specifically, she tries to work in the same room as you when she can, normally while making electronic copies of physical documents, or while looking over the details of a finished experiment. She’s not always one for cuddling, so she won’t often get in bed with you during the daytime. But at night? Yes, fine, she will wrap her arms around you, maybe one of her wings too if you like how soft they are.

Just don’t think that she secretly loves every second. It’s not like she’ll spend half an hour whispering about how sweet and adorable you are as soon as you fall asleep, or anything like that. It’s twenty minutes at the most.

Bonus!Avaskian Caldwell:

“Oh, fuckin’ mood!” Followed by a solid thirty seconds of pure regret. Seriously, though, Ava has spent xer entire life (starting at age 10) dealing with chronic migraines. For a while xe also dealt with POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), which meant lots of chest pain, but that (thankfully) faded as xe grew into an adult, as is fairly common with the condition. If anyone in Castle Dimitrescu understands unrelenting, unexplainable pain, it’s xer.

That being said… Ava never really managed xer chronic pain, at least not when xe was at xer worst. Xe had to drop out of school because of it. Hell, xe didn’t have a “real” job until xe was almost 23! Didn’t have a chance until things just calmed down for xer. So xe gets anxious whenever you talk about your health, worried that things are (or will at some point be) as bad for you as they were for xer. Other than that, though, you might initially think that xe doesn’t care, or didn’t understand the conversation.

Truth is, xe knows how absolutely fucking ANNOYING it can be to have to explain your health to every new person you meet (like the dozen different doctors you’ve met over the years, possibly every nurse who takes your pulse and thinks it’s a little bit high). So xe did a shit ton of research on your condition, in order to reduce how much you need to explain. Sure, xe will still have questions, and there are always aspects that only you can tell xer, but it’s a nice gesture.

As for helping you destress, xe’s pretty much a mix of Bela and Miranda. You’ll get plenty of massages (because Ava has learned from personal experience what sort of touches help with which sorts of pain), but also some scientific insight on any noticeable patterns. Lots of holding you close and telling you that you’re the coolest person in the world, and that Ava feels beyond lucky to have you.

[fatui-gf]

*grabby hands* subby kaeya,, (would prefer if it was gender neutral with female anatomy)

sub!Kaeya x dom!gn!Reader (afab anatomy)

word count: 1670

this work includes: fingering (m receiving), oral (m giving), overstimulation, praise and kinda Kaeya confessing his feeling but that doesn't really need a warning, I'm just a sucker for romantic stuff, nsfw is under the cut as usual

Hi, thank you so much for your request! I’ve been wanting to write something for Kaeya because he’s one of my favourite characters and I’ve never even stopped using him. I hope you like this scenario, feel free to share your thoughts with me!! :D

Kaeya held the title of the most romantic and charming person in Mondstadt for quite a while now. His flirtatious nature obviously got a lot of people to dream of him at night, hoping to get him all for themselves.

You could consider yourself lucky as you were the one Kaeya had an eye on ever since you’ve stepped your feet in the city. From this way forward he has made it his goal to steal your heart. You’ve seen so much already, all the way from flirty lines to getting handed red roses.

It was definitely hard not to fall for him, especially when he was doing so much to get your attention, however it often got passed as his usual behaviour. That’s just how he was, right? It’s just in his blood, isn’t it? Who would have predicted that you’d get the cavalry captain all on his knees just for you?

“What?” you blurted out as the tension finally got unbearable.

Kaeya kept staring at you this whole day, his lilac hues following your every move, as if he was analyzing them. It was flattering, sure, but it got a little too flustering after a while.

“Huh? Am I not allowed to admire your beauty? It’s not everyday that I come across someone this cute” he winked at you, giving you his signature smile.

“You’re cheesy” you replied looking back to what you were previously doing, cleaning your weapon after today’s commission work that Kaeya of course helped you with.

The man was very clingy today, almost like he had done something and wanted to sway you so you wouldn’t get mad. He couldn’t help but just chuckle at your comment.

“Hey, I can help you with that-” his words got cut off as you faced him

“What’s with you today? Did something happen? You haven’t left my side since morning, are you that in love with me or what?” you asked with a smirk and was met with a silence

“Um… y/n, what if I told you that I am?” you stopped in your tracks. Was he serious?

“I don’t know, you seem to be flirty with everyone” you shrugged it off, not really hoping for him to reciprocate the feelings.

Then you felt a strong grip on your shoulders, Kaeya’s eyes staring deep inside yours. He was frustrated, he wanted you to believe him but he knew what his reputation was like, he knew everything. He breathed out and let his grip soften, there was no point in getting too much into it. Instead, he just leaned in leaving a small, surprisingly shy peck on lips. The man who never got embarrassed to flirt, so confident was now standing there, playing with his finger to ease his nervousness.

“Well, do you believe me now?” he asked, his cheeks showing a red tint

You felt a little guilty for not believing him right away but at the same time you didn’t mind that he proved his affection for you with a kiss. It was quite cute actually, what was cuter though was his troubled expression.

Face flushed, his lips slightly trembling, awaiting an answer from you. God, was he precious. You leaned in and got him into a deeper kiss, your hands tracing his back, wandering aimlessly caressing his body. It felt good to have something this genuine, this alluring. The captain's eyes gleamed with need as you pulled away, he had longed for this for such a long time, of course you can’t leave him hanging like this, right?

“I will never forget this feeling” Kaeya commented with a smile, he was so happy and it felt so good to know that you were the reason behind his joy.

You took his hand, squeezing it and giving him the little thumb rub that just made his heart go insane. It was beating so loudly, you could clearly hear it. You slowly led him to the bedroom, his nervousness growing more and more. He suddenly didn’t really know what to do, what to say, it overcame him, scared of screwing up, he looked up at you.

You brushed through his long blue hair with your hand and patted him on the head to reassure him that everything was going to be alright.

“I’ll make sure that all of the neighbours know my name” you teased Kaeya, something so rewarding in the way he covered the half of face to hide the blush.

“Hey, am I not allowed to admire your beauty?” you used his own line on him managing to get out a heartwarming chuckle from him.

You moved away his hand from his face, letting yourself see him more fully. Oh how much did you want to see waves of pleasure affect his expression, the thought of it alone was too much to handle. You quickly came to one of the drawers and pulled out a red, silky ribbon. Kaeya could feel his heart in his throat.

“First be a good boy and undress for me,” you said, sitting back to get a good view of your flustered boyfriend as he slowly got up from the bed.

He started to take off his clothes, trying to make himself look as good as possible, sticking out his butt and tracing his bare chest with his fingers.

As he stood there in his underwear, you couldn’t take it anymore and gently pushed him onto the bed, grabbing his wrists and wrapping them with the red ribbon, tying it into a cute bow. You used the other one to cover up his eyes, forcing him for his other senses to strengthen now that he had to let go of his sight.

You sat on top of him, showering his body in kisses and love bites, clearly marking your territory and listening to the little whimpers the captain would let out. His neck was the way to go, not only was it a visible place but it was also very sensitive for him. A mere breath near his neck made him squirm, having your lips all over it just made him produce louder sounds, more erotic sounds.

“I can tell my prince enjoys himself” you said, him blushing harder at the nickname you gave him. He wanted you to say it again and again and again. This man really has a praise kink.

“Y-yes, y/n…” he managed to say between his breaths.

He then inhaled even more sharply as he felt your wet tongue make your way with his nipples. His body started shaking a little, pulling on the ribbon tied to the bed frame, sweat already dripping down his forehead.

“You’re so good for me, I love hearing you squirm all for me”

He kept moaning, his hips rising, trying to rub himself on you, so desperate for your touch, so needy.

“What are you doing? Is my prince that desperate? Use your words, puppy” Kaeya could feel his need growing even more.

“Please fuck me, y/n, p-please, I need your touch…” he mumbled

“What was that? i didn’t hear it”

“I-I said, please fuck me, please, I want to feel you”

His words drove you off the edge, you removed his underwear completely, along with you garments. His dick was throbbing, you could easily tell how needy he was just from that. It rested against his stomach, he looked adorable.

To see the whole picture, you took off his blindfold. The light suddenly hit Kaeya’s eyes as he blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust to the brighter lighting in the room. You placed a few fingers inside of him, thrusting them, the tips of your fingers hitting his prostate. He wanted to cover his mouth to hide that he was practically drooling all over the place at this point, his eyes barely open, just slightly watching you rearrange his guts with a few fingers. It felt way better than when he would do it alone. You kept thrusting as he got closer and closer.

“Y-y/n, I think I’m going to cum, I-I think I might be close” he breathed heavily with you suddenly pulling out all of the fingers.

“H-hey, you’re cruel” he protested, trying to convince you with his puppy dog eyes.

“You have to earn it, sweetheart”

He knew exactly what to do when you found yourself quite literally above his face, his nose right at your entrance, it was hard to do it without being able to use his hands to hold you in place but he still did his best. It felt so loving and intimate as his tongue explored your insides, causing you to let out sounds of pleasure.

He was a very attentive lover, taking into account every sound you made, this way analyzing where it felt the best and how to do it. He wanted to please you as much as he could, finally driving you to an orgasm. He licked his lips and sent you a gentle wink.

“You’re definitely a really good boy, I’m so glad to have you. You did really well, I think you deserve a reward” Kaeya’s eyes gleamed as he heard the word “reward” just like a dog when you tell it that you’ll go for a walk.

You lifted his ass up a little bit, putting your fingers back inside it and using your other hand to stimulate his penis. He felt so much pleasure at once, he could swear he was going insane. You could hear the loudest moans escape his mouth as he came, his eyes half lidded, tears forming in the corners from the stimulation. You didn’t stop though.

“H-hey, I’m so sensitive righ-... F-fuck” he swore under his breath as you overstimulated him.

He bit his lips with his eyes closing completely, his moans sounded kind of like screams until he came again, breathing even harder. You leaned closer to him, placing a small kiss on his nose.

“You really are my good boy”

[jarofstyles]

SK8ER BOI II- Ollie

A/N: oooOOOO here we go! a little more development before the rollercoaster starts. The little angsty elements make it that much more exciting though. Enjoy! - n + d

send feedback and requests here

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: drug use (weed), cheating, smut, ass play

word count: 10.5k

The next day at school, it wasn’t hard to find Y/N. She stood with her friends as Harry skated past, waving at her as he went by. His black sweater and jeans were practical and normal wear. 

“Since when were you friends with him?” One of her friends asked with raised brows. “He’s not the most social of them all.” 

It was true. Harry tended to keep to himself and minded his own business, stayed with his group of friends and didn’t bother anyone. He hooked up at parties to be people’s bad boy fantasies and all that but he wasn’t much of a talker in social situations. Not a lot was known about him besides he smoked weed, drank, hooked up and was generally a nice guy. You could label him a stoner skater and it wouldn’t be wrong.

It was really nice to see Harry, Y/N thought it was cute that he waved when he skated past. It did bring a smile to her face. “Oh, we’re assigned partners for Mr. Beck’s anatomy class.” Y/N explained, “he’s actually really nice. Easy to work with.” She nodded and noticed Timmy looking at her with furrowed brows. “I’m going over again on Friday to work on it.” She let him know, wrapping her arm around his waist from behind and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You alright?” Of course Y/N just had to act as she would normally, she couldn’t let anyone know of her little secret. It wasn’t that hard keeping up with Timmy though, she did genuinely care about him and affection was her immediate way of interacting with him. Hugs, kisses, nothing had changed really. 

“Nothing, babe, was just curious.” Timothée smiled down at her and leaned down to peck her lips. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder and sighed, that spark really wasn’t there.

Even Harry noticed, there was no chemistry. Lighting up a cigarette, he leaned against the tree with Niall talking Zayn’s ear off, watching the couple. It looked like they were friendly but the guys’ arm stayed on her arm. The boy didn’t loop around her waist, didn’t hold her body closer— no. It was a very obvious thing to him now more than ever. 

“I’m positive he’s not into girls.” Harry said. “Nothing wrong with it but... Y/N’s hot. He’s literally not touching her at all.” He spoke lowly. His friends didn’t know he was hooking up with her and it was normal for him to have random outbursts like this so it was okay for him to say. 

“Ya think? He looks sickly whenever she kisses him.” Niall snickered. “It’s fine but, he shouldn’t string the poor girl along.” 

Harry agreed.

----

The rest of the week went by just fine but realistically Y/N was excited for Friday. Maybe it was bad of her to get all ready for him as if they were a thing, but she wanted to feel nice and look nice for him even if it was just someone she was hooking up with. Y/N had taken extra precautions, telling her mom she was working on a project with a friend but she might go to Timmy’s after to spend the night. Now. Y/N wasn’t sure how long she’d be staying, but just in case. She wanted to have as much time with Harry as she possibly could. So, she got dropped off at Harry’s around 5 after dinner, her heart beat picking up again. She had worn a set of underwear with little hearts on it, thinking it was cute. Y/N didn’t feel comfortable wearing overly sexy sets, they just weren’t her. Hopefully Harry would think they were cute. She wasn’t even sure if they were for real going to do stuff again, but she could only assume so.

He had kept an eye on Y/N and Timmy for the rest of the week and struggled to understand why Y/N was still with the dude. He didn’t pay her much attention. Sure, he would kiss her head or rub her arm but there was no physical affection. From what Harry has seen, Y/N thrived off of being touched. It must be really hard for her. He didn’t know why she went for that and stood for the treatment especially when she was barely getting anything out of the agreement. It confused the fuck out of him. Either way, he tried to stay out of it. the house was clean and Y/N was coming over and he had questions for her, so he would ask them later. He figured if it ran late enough he could order pizza and bring her home. Or whatever she was doing next. It was Friday. He was just planning on smoking and using his telescope.

Y/N texted him saying she was there and smiled up at him when he opened the door. Just as last time, the kitties came running over to greet her and she couldn’t help but smile, again dropping down to pet them all. 

“Hi my angels!! I missed you.” She giggled, letting one of them climb up onto her lap. She picked it up and nuzzled against it, pressing a kiss to its nose and hummed as it purred and went to kiss her nose. “Awe, thank you!” She cooed, setting it back down. She stood up when she heard Harry clear his throat, blushing a little. “Hi.” She giggled and brushed her skirt down. Y/N took her shoes off as usual and left them by the door before following him up the stairs to his bedroom. She’d noticed he had candles lit this time, had some fairy lights going too. Was he setting the mood? “It looks nice in here.” She complimented, taking a seat on his bed. “How was your week?” She asked, wanting to make some kind of conversation because she really didn’t want to just blurt out about how she’d been thinking about his dick the whole week.

“Thanks. M’gonna smoke a bit and look at my telescopes later so I made it cozy.” Harry shrugged. Also, it would be easier for her to be comfortable around him. A good atmosphere was important. “What about you?” He laid his laptop out on his bed. Today he was in comfortable clothes. A sweatshirt and joggers but— it was kind of hot. He had a tank top underneath, so he slid it off and let himself be clothed in just the tank. It showed off a nice amount of tattoos. His parents were cool like that. They let him get them as long as he did well. Said it was his body and his choice to regret it if he did one day. “Ah, Muffin likes you.” The orange kitty weaved around her legs, mewing to be picked up. It did indeed love Y/N and her good energy.

“Is that what you do most nights then?” Y/N asked curiously, wondering if astronomy was something he was majorly into. “Didn’t know you were into astronomy.... then again, I don’t know a lot about you so.” Y/N chuckled and blushed, swallowing thickly as she admired his tattoos. “Those are really nice by the way.” She spoke, nodding to his arm. Y/N knew she was awkward with making conversation, but hopefully he got the hint that she wanted to hear more about him if he let her. “I’m supposed to go to Timmy’s later.” She explained, knowing he probably wouldn’t like that. Truth be told, she’d rather stay here with Harry, but she hadn’t spent any time with her boyfriend this week and she felt bad. “Hi muffin.” She cooed down at the kitten in her lap, “you get as cozy as you’d like, okay?” She told the cat not expecting it to respond with a meow. Y/N looked at Harry with wide eyes when it happened, “oh my goodness!!”

He laughed under his breath. She was going to her boyfriends after getting her shit wrecked by Harry? Part of him liked it. She would go and think about how Harry was by far a better choice. There were no ifs ands or buts. He was annoyed on another part because he wasn’t sure why she kept giving the dude the tone of day, but apparently that wasn’t his business. A slight smile came on his face as he looked at her with the cat in her, astonished that she had talked back to her. 

“She likes you quite a bit.” He commented, bringing his computer to his lap. “But thanks, about the tattoos. I love em. And I love astronomy. The stars and all that stuff. My dad works at NASA, so I’d like to go there too.” He hummed. “Not an astronaut cause, I’d go crazy being trapped in a ship but... learning about it. It’s cool.”

Y/N was surprised to hear it, but her heart did swell. Something about men that loved the stars made her all gooey because they were naturally dreamers regardless if they saw it that way or not. She knew Harry was artsy, liked that he was in fact, it gave him a lot more depth. Fuck. She needed to stop thinking that way. 

“That’s so cool! You have to be really smart for that.” Y/N said, knowing he must have to be a genius to work for NASA. It was an extremely complicated job, lots of math involved, but Harry seemed to be somewhat offended at her question. “No, no— I didn’t mean it like that, I just.. sorry, I knew you were smart I just. I shouldn’t have assumed, I’m sorry.” She spoke, feeling herself blush. He was far smarter than her that’s for sure. She of course was just trying to be a teacher, well.. she didn’t quite know what she wanted to be yet. Y/N was often stuck in feeling like she didn’t really have a purpose.

“It’s cool, I get it. A miswording.” Harry chuckled as he saw her panic that she offended him. He was used to people putting him off as a lazy student because of his looks and calm demeanor. But she obviously didn’t mean it. “Yeah, it’s what I want to do. Lucky my dad is there but I’m not gonna get a job by slacking, so I make sure to get A’s. A lot of people don’t expect it of me but it’s fun. School is really easy for me.” He didn’t have to try. He was that lucky bitch. It came to him naturally. “But what about you? What do you want to do?” He was curious what she would be interested in. If she wanted to be something specific or if she was figuring it out. He could see her doing something artsy or with literature. She seemed to be a bit bookish when it came to that.

Y/N was happy to know he did well in school, glad he found it easy because she was often panicked with how difficult it could be whenever there was all too much going on. “I think that’s great though, it’s nice to have a passion.” She said, petting the kitty in her lap. “I um... I don’t really know yet. I thought I wanted to be a teacher, cause I really like little kids and I’d really like to help them learn.” Y/N explained, “but sometimes I wonder what else I could do? I second guess myself a lot.” It was a struggle for her internally but she knew she’d figure it out eventually. She did have lots of passions, writing being one of them, she just didn’t think it was worth the stress of money. She let out a deep breath, watching the cat jump out of her lap to get some attention from Harry. She went to work on the project wanting to get a lot done so that they could do stuff, if of course he wanted to. Again, she didn’t want to assume that it was a more than one time thing.

“It’s okay. It’s definitely hard. You don’t have to know now. I’m lucky cause my parents just let me find what I like and I was early on with what I liked. They put a pressure on us to know right now and we don’t have to.” Harry shrugged. “My whole side of my dad’s family is into space and engineering. It was funny when he married my mum because they’re kind of opposite? He’s practical in work but goofy as shit at home. My mom is like... the best. But she’s the one who makes sure my dad doesn’t just buy a Jeep for the fuck of it.” He laughed. Their careers and their personalities matched well though. It was easy to open up to Y/N because she genuinely seemed interested in what he had to say. Plus, it wasn’t classified information. “What do you like? You should try and look into stuff that’s like... that you’ll enjoy. No sense in working a job you hate forever.”

“Your parents seem really cool.” Y/N smiled brightly at him, genuinely happy that he had a good life. Harry didn’t deserve to feel hurt ever. No. He had a good head on his shoulders and a great support system. She felt like there was a spot for a nice girl in his life, but it seemed like he wasn’t actively searching for one? Maybe that was a sore subject. She let out a breath, “I really like writing, it’s fun for me to express myself in that way. But I don’t think I’d be a very good writer as a job or anything. That’s mainly why I said I’d be happy with teaching, cause I know I couldn’t ever be upset knowing I’m teaching little kids something... giving them a good example. Know how important it is to have good teachers that make you feel comfortable.” Y/N was really enjoying just getting to know Harry. It was easy talking to him, he was lovely, really. No judgement at all and of course he gave great advice. It was then that she got interrupted by a call. It was Timmy. 

“Hey... is everything alright?” She knew he wouldn’t call unless it was urgent.

“Hey, Uh... I don’t think we can do Tonight. We’re super busy with the committee and planning stuff and I wouldn’t be good company.” He said distractedly. He was very focused on being student body president again and he took it far too seriously. “We can go out one day next week? It’ll calm down after I get reelected!” No it wouldn’t. He was always coming up with excuses. “But— sorry, they got food and we’re working on a new slogan for the posters. I’ll talk to you later, sorry.” 

Harry could see her face fall and her lip start to tremble. He immediately felt concern, moving to sit up more on the bed and tilted his head as she let the phone fall on the bed. “Hey... what’s up?” He asked gently. Not sure what was going on but knowing that he probably should be concerned by the look on her face. “What happened?”

Of course. Excuses as usual. Y/N was trying, trying really hard to be a good girlfriend or whatever the fuck she was. God, she wanted to have a nice conversation with him today, ask him what had been up with him recently but he had been avoiding her like the plague. He didn’t like her even as a friend? Was that it? Even if he was gay, she could only hope he would tell her instead of stringing her along. Y/N wasn’t sure what to do because realistically it shouldn’t hurt her this much, but she had been with him for three whole years, been best friends before that. Course it hurts. Y/N swallowed thickly, tears starting to fall down her face as she looked at Harry. He’d think it was stupid. It was no secret that Harry didn’t like Timothée, at least to her at least. She didn’t want to look stupid. 

“Timmy he’s busy with the campaign is stuff... said we can’t hang out.” Y/N sniffled, wiping her eyes. She was crying more so cause she was embarrassed. She felt like everyone knew and she was just getting dragged along.

Anger welled in him. How many times was this asshole going to hurt her heart? How could he not see he was selfishly dragging this shit out and leading her on when she could be out of that relationship and be shown an actual thing or two about a man. 

“No... Y/N, don’t cry.” He whispered. Internally, he felt panicked but he moved over to where she sat and placed an arm around her. “It’s alright. He’s a loser for that. But I feel like there’s more to why you’re so upset about it.” He rubbed her back, trying to soothe her the best he possibly could. “Does he do this a lot?” He was curious, trying to understand her complete meltdown now from him not wanting to hang out. It had to be a common thing if she was this upset over it.

Hearing the words ‘dont cry’ only made her cry more, hiding her face in his chest. She didn’t trust her voice yet, a sob coming from her as she nodded her head to let him know it was a regular thing. 

“Sorry...” She sniffled, trying to catch her breath properly. “I’m just embarrassed...” Y/N explained, “cause he just— he’d rather do anything than hang out with me.... and you know, now I’m suspecting he might not be straight, but to his knowledge he still thinks I don’t know. So he’s just— I don’t want to pressure him into coming out if he isn’t ready either! What if he isn't?” She felt more tears fall, wiping them aggressively. “Feel really stupid for being upset cause I feel like everyone knows except for me, and he’s just dragging me along and isn’t even trying to fake it— just hurts cause you know, thought he’d want to at least hang out with me cause he thinks I’m cool or whatever but apparent not.” Y/N felt very hurt, her heart cracking because she felt like everything was falling apart quite quickly and she didn’t want to just dump it all on Harry like this.

“Woah... hold on there. He’s the idiot, bunny.” He left a pet name slip. “What type of person does that shit to someone else? You are very cool. Very pretty. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s a him issue. A hundred percent not a you thing, love.” He was positive about that. Y/N hadn’t done anything to deserve this, at all. It made him sad to think that she could possibly be feeling as though it’s genuinely her fault. “It’s not stupid to be upset either. It’s valid. Doesn’t matter if he's straight or not. He’s pushing and stringing you along and not giving you anything but a title for it. I watched you both this week a bit. Sorry If that’s creepy but... he doesn’t treat you right. Even as a friend.” He explained. It made him so sad to think that the boy was hurting her for no damn reason. “Can I tell you something? I was wicked excited to hang out with you today. I've been looking forward to it all week. I don’t like hanging with lame people so... you’re definitely very cool.”

Y/N chuckled at his comment, sniffling a bit. “Are you sure you weren’t excited because you knew you’d get some?” She asked, looking up at him with wide eyes. Y/N wasn’t assuming he was like that, but no part of her believed she was cool enough for Harry and her tone displayed that. Harry was being very sweet to her and he absolutely didn’t have to. She could have just excused herself and collected herself and carried on with the project but he was being insistent on calming her down. She let out shaky breaths, staying snuggled into his chest because she found it to be the most comfortable thing. “Sorry I’m crying all over your shirt.” Y/N chuckled and pulled back, looking up at him with her eyes all blown. She liked him. She liked him a lot but she knew that he wouldn’t want to be involved with someone like her. She was such a baby and was scared of everything. She didn’t do drugs, didn’t go to parties, she wasn’t sexy. She just minded her business and watched anime at home.

“Woah... no, that wasn’t why I was excited. I mean, I was hoping we would do something but I wasn’t gonna push it if it didn't feel right. You’re a genuinely cool girl, Y/N. I don’t have a ton of Friends so like... it’s cool to find someone I think I can be friends with.” He was sad she felt that perhaps that was her only worth to him. It wasn’t at all. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about the shirt, I don’t want you to be sad.” He continued rubbing her back gently. Poor Y/N. She was a mess in her mind. “But you’re a lot more than just a hookup. To anyone. You’ve got a ton of worth and you’re fun to be around regardless.” He didn’t like the thought of her being sad. “We can just hang out after we finish the part we’re working on. We’re already ahead. I’ll uh... I can show you some constellations if you wanted?”

It really did mean a lot to her to hear him say that. Y/N always felt that she was constantly in her boyfriend’s shadow, always being called ‘Timmy’s girlfriend’ and never by her name at times. Y/N wanted to be her own person, liked that that’s how Harry saw her. It made her feel all warm inside. Her eyes rested up again but she didn’t cry, a smile finding its way to her face before she practically jumped him with a hug. Y/N squeezed him tight, nuzzling her face into his neck. 

“Thank you.” She mumbled quietly against his shoulder, holding on to him tight for a while. 

“I’d really like that.. the constellations.” She told him quietly as she loosened her grip, but stayed hugging him closely. It felt really nice.

“Great. There’s a ladder I have— we can get up to the roof and look at ‘em. It’s safe.” He had been up there so much that there was a railing on the roof his dad hired someone to put up. Just in case. “In the meantime, I can order pizza or something while we work? By the time it gets here we’ll be done.” He suggested. Feeling the nod in his neck he smiled, grabbing his phone and calling his favorite pizza place. 

She had stayed in his lap while he ordered, his fingers going up and down her side as he got them a cheese and pepperoni as well as some of those cinnamon dessert sticks. She needed it after a hard day. Harry didn’t like physical touch all that much when it came to strangers but he already considered her a friend. 

----

Working went by rather quickly after her little cry, they’d both decided they had done a lot of work today so they started packing up and Y/N was getting more relaxed. She had put her stuff in her backpack and moved it off of his bed by the door so they had more space. He was getting ready to go outside, gathering some things. 

“Know you said you were going to smoke, you still can if you want, don’t want to ruin your night.” Y/N said softly, standing beside him as he opened the door to the roof. It was really cool how he had a place to look at all of the stars, his family must be extremely proud of him. 

Harry helped her climb up and gave her a blanket to lay out while he brought all of his stuff up. He seemed really excited to be doing all of this and that made her smile, she was excited to get to know him on this level, hear him talk about things he was passionate about. 

In Harry’s eyes, she couldn’t ruin his night. Not when she was excited to learn about the stars and things like that. She didn’t make fun. Instead she accepted his passion and was eager to have him explain. He grabbed some of his equipment, bringing it up so they could look at the planets visible if they wanted to. The door was closed so the cats didn’t follow them up there, Harry also bringing a sweatshirt for her to wear. It felt weird, giving a girl a piece of clothing to wear. Usually he hooked up and left. But Y/N deserved more respect than that. She was hurting. 

“Here— Uh, you can wear this cause it’s a bit chilly.” He murmured, handing it to her to put on as he put the telescope down and sat down next to her. She did, and he was happy because it was getting nippy out even though during the day it had been warm. “Let’s see... let’s look at constellations first and then I can show you my telescope and see other stuff.”

Y/N felt really cozy now that she was wrapped up in the warmth of Harry’s sweatshirt. She’d seen him wear it earlier, he also wore it to school. It was a big navy one that said, don’t trip. She knew that this didn’t mean anything though, he just didn’t want her to be cold is all. She pulled the sleeves up over her hands, pawing them up for optimum comfort and laid back on the blankets with him so it was easier to see. She scooted closer, looking up at the clear night sky. It was quite dark outside, but the moonlight illuminated everything just enough for them to be able to see what they were doing. Y/N was looking up at a bunch of stars, clearly, but she only knew a few constellations. 

“Alright then, educate me, Mr. Styles.” She said with a small hum, just joking around with him.

“Starting simple I suppose. So... up there.” Harry pointed, getting close to her so they would have similar lines of sight. “That’s the Little Dipper. And right over there? The big one.” He traced them outline with his finger. “When I was little I wanted to be a star. Everyone thought I meant like an actor or something but no. I literally meant I wanted to be one of the stars.” He chuckled. “I study them instead. But it gets a bit overwhelming sometimes.” He adjusted his body so theirs were pushed together for optimum warmth and accuracy. “Each of the stars that makes up the constellation is a different galaxy. Our sun is a star. Isn’t that wild? Like... we are the stars in other universes. We are in their sky.” He paused. “At least if you believe in that sort of things. I do.

Y/N moved so that she was laying on the inner part of his arm, closer to his chest. It was a lot easier to look at them this way. She gasped as he pointed out the two, smiling because it really was beautiful. “You know... I have freckles that look like a Little Dipper on my arm.” She was really proud of that, and felt like he would appreciate the little fact. “Aren’t some of them like... based on Greek myth and stuff?” She asked curiously, naturally nerdy about those types of things. Y/N liked all kinds of mythological stories, loved hearing about what they were meant to teach people. She didn’t necessarily believe, but sometimes she wanted to. 

Harry was very comfortable to lay on. They hadn’t exactly cuddled like this before, but she hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time they did this because she was much calmer now. She felt a lot more relaxed.

“Mhm. There’s Orion and his belt. The seven sisters. You can see them over there.” He pointed each one out. “The seven sisters is a star cluster that I particularly like. I always wonder what lies behind them. If it’s incredibly hot wherever it is because of the nearness of the stars.” He liked feeling her lay on him like this. It was relaxing. She was good to lay around with. “I suppose we’ll never know the absolute truth, unless a new technology comes out that allows us to go light years. Or aliens. Either way.” He was joking but also, not really. He believed in aliens. “Over there  is the Gemini constellation. The twins. Also an astrological sign. Leo, the lion. Pisces. Represents Aphrodite and Eros tying themselves together to escape typhon, the worst monster in mythology.” Harry murmured. “I sit for hours out here and just stare. I know it’s a bit weird but it’s comforting at the same time it’s scary.  That we’re so small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things but... our beings can mean the world to someone else.”

Y/N nodded along, listening intently as he spoke. The sound of his voice alone was soothing, but she found herself turning her head to look at him instead of the stars an awful lot. She thought he was beautiful, especially in the moonlight. She needed to cut it out though. He was a good friend to her, she shouldn’t be getting too ahead of herself when she had just found something good. 

“Think it’s really cool... always wondered about stuff like that. Space is really scary but very fascinating.” She said and let out a sigh, “if you ever want to talk about it more, we can...” Y/N blushed, genuinely wanting to hear random space facts if that was something he wanted to do. 

She was finding that the little crush she’d always had on him was for good reason. He was a really cool guy. Really really cool. He was so relaxed and laid back, the amount of calmness he displayed was incredible. Maybe hanging out with him more would teach her to relax better.

“Yeah? You’re cool, Y/N.” Harry smiled at her efforts. She was really trying. Really, really trying to be a good friend to him and god if it didn’t make him want to make out with her. “Did you want to smoke with me? If not, I can sit at the roof door and we can talk from a distance so you don’t get any of the smoke.” He questioned. Harry didn’t want to pressure her but he did feel like perhaps she would like it. “It’s not scary or anything.” He could see her internal debate. “You’ll probably cough a bit at first. Some people are different. You’ll also probably be hungry, and it does make you a bit more horny than normal.  At least it does for me, 100%.” He laughed. Y/N could benefit from it. “But I like it cause it makes me feel a lot more relaxed and loosened up. It feels nice to not worry about tests or the future for a bit.”

Y/N looked at him with a bashful but curious gaze, “I um... yeah, I’d like to.” She said with a nod. It seemed like a good idea, relaxing? being hungry and horny? Sign her up. She knew he wouldn’t put her up to anything that could endanger her, besides, he did it all the time and he was just fine. She sat up and watched as he took out a little box, pulling out a ziplock bag of green clusters and a circular object. Y/N watched as he broke about a green cluster and placed it into the object, twisting it to grind up the weed. He meticulously rolled up one perfectly packed joint, pulling out a lighter before setting the box to the side. She was a little nervous, but he made it look so easy. Y/N watched as he lit it and inhaled with ease, it looked simple enough. She just had to breathe in. He passed it to her with no rush and she brought it to her lips and inhaled. Y/N felt the smoke fill her lungs but she did start coughing, getting used to the sensation. 

“That was so weird.” She laughed a bit as she coughed but took another hit nonetheless, this time a bit more prepared.

“Yeah, it can be trippy when you first try and do it but it gets better.” Harry smiled at her attempts. It was admirable that she was so easily trying new things. It was something he liked about her. She didn’t judge much. They passed it back and forth and Harry had the bright idea to move everything inside before he was too lazy to, first bringing down the telescope and then helping her down the stairs. 

“Wait— look at this. Lay on the bed.” He grinned, watching her confused face. He turned the lights down and flicked on the star projector that filled the room with many star-like projections. It made his room look like space. Even better when high. He hopped next to her in his bed. “What do you think?”

Y/N knew that she’d feel all floaty when high, but this was really cool. Everything felt like it was in slow motion. She carefully maneuvered down from the roof with Harry’s help, pulling off the hoodie because she suddenly felt very warm. 

“Woah!” Y/N’s eyes went wide as she looked around the room. “You didn’t show me this last time!” She looked at him with a look of wonder. It was very much amusing. She laid back and closed her eyes a bit, just soaking in the moment and how much it smelled like him in his bed. “Feels really nice...” She said lazily to him, “can you come here please?” Y/N asked, her voice going all cute and soft. She just wanted to cuddle again. On the roof it was really nice and she thought it would be even nicer on a bed.

“Yeah, sure.” Harry liked her clingy. She was lovely this way. Being high made her ask for things she wanted, apparently and that was good for his sake. He immediately was met as a cuddly Y/N when he moved closer to her, letting her curl up next to him. Harry was feeling things out but he was curious to know what she liked. What she would want to do if they continued hanging out. 

“How do you feel? Both being high and hanging out with me?” He wanted to show her how it felt to have a true friend. Someone who treated her nicely. That oui oui baguette boy obviously didn’t treat her how she needed to be treated. “You want to be friends with me, right? Cause we could do this shit all the time. I smoke with Zayn and Niall but they’re like, suuuuuper obnoxious with it.”

Y/N happily swooped her leg over Harry’s hip, her arm moving around his waist while her head rested on his chest. She sighed feeling finally comfortable, letting out slow and relaxed breaths as he spoke. 

“I feel... floaty. Like, I have no thoughts yet somehow I can form sentences? It’s strange, but very cool.” Y/N giggled and shifted her head so she could breath in his scent a bit better. “I do want to be friends with you, you’re really nice.” Y/N spoke honestly, “if you would rather smoke with me or just hang out, we can hang out whenever you want...” Now that she was high she wasn’t really thinking about how things came out, she was sort of just saying them and hoping for the best. “I’m hungry.” She mumbled, “but I’m also comfy.” Y/N huffed, making it out to be the biggest dilemma in human history. She sat up though, remembered they had gotten pizza and smiled when she saw it sitting over on the coffee table. “Harry! You’re a genius!” She smiled and went to grab his cheeks. She kissed him once and got up to go grab the box to bring over to them.

He was surprised at how quickly she had kissed him, scurrying over time the pizza box and coming back to him. It was amazing. Y/N was sitting there looking all sorts of innocent when she had just kissed him and not even thought twice about it. She was munching happily on the pizza and he took a piece as well, letting her get comfy as they sat up on the bed to eat. 

“I’m glad you want to hang out with me. I’m a cool guy sometimes, I think.” He had been told many a time that he was cool by his friends but it felt good to know she wanted to be around. 

“I think you’ll like my friends. They’re idiots but they mean well.” He did love his friends even when they were stupid. They went to parties together and mooched off of the free alcohol. “But I definitely don’t kiss my friends like I do with you. Nothin’ against them, they’re attractive but, I’m not into beer breath.”

Y/N did a little happy dance while she munched on her pizza, focusing on getting as much as she could into her belly because it seemed like she could swallow the whole earth. “You are a cool guy. The coolest. Everyone at school wants to be friends with you.” She said honestly, knowing the hot gossip. “But I win.” She giggled, taking a sip of her water that she had laying next to her. Y/N felt herself getting full but then again she did just finish her third slice. The cinnamon sticks were her next victims, she let out a moan at the taste. “Really? Well, I don’t really kiss anyone like I kiss you anyway so....” Y/N shrugged, basically saying that he was the only person she kissed with passion and desire. Yeah she kissed Timothée but kissing him was more of a chore now that their relationship was falling apart.

“Yeah? That's a good stroke to my ego.” He did like knowing Y/N was happy with kissing him like that. He couldn’t help but be a bit proud of that. “You’re a great kisser. But if you keep moaning like that I’m gonna be tempted to bend you over.” His threat was lazy but he would happily play with her again. He wasn’t sure about fucking her. He didn’t want her to regret it. But she had the best ass and beautiful tits and he wanted to see her naked. “What? Don’t look shocked. You’re makin’ me hard with that moaning over food. You’ve got a sexy as fuck voice. I like Hearing it. Plus, I’m already attracted to you and know what your pussy tastes like so the weed isn’t helping my cock.”

“Well, I am a bit shocked.” Y/N chuckled, “Didn’t realize I was doing anything.” She blushed, putting the cinnamon sticks down because now they were getting into some serious talk. “I like when you talk like that..” Y/N told him, smoothing over her skirt a bit to try and distract herself but it definitely wasn’t working. The weed was definitely giving her a bit of confidence, mostly because her anxiety was shut off and she was just speaking freely. Of course, she still had that sweet innocence to her, that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard she tired. “Obviously haven’t done anything except for what we did the other day so... know I’m not exactly the sexiest.” She chuckled and looked up at him. She was aware of some of the different things you could do during sex but she wasn’t one to research. It made her feel gross watching other people, most because she didn’t find the men attractive and that was kind of the most important part.

“You’re sexy. Don’t say that about yourself cause you 100% are incredibly sexy.” Harry stopped that right away. He didn’t like her thinking that she was anything but a sexy little thing. “I love your innocence but... trust me. The used panties I came all over prove that you���re hot as fuck. You’ve got a dirty side. Just haven’t tapped into it yet.” He hummed. “I’m glad to know that you like me talking like that. You’ll be happy to know that I am willing to teach you or talk to you about anything you’d want to know, including sex. That much I am a very hands on teacher.” He wiggled his brows to make her laugh. “Do you wanna know somethin?” He asked. When he got the curious look he continued. “I couldn’t stop staring at your ass the other day. When you wore leggings. You stood right in front of the tree my friends and I stand outside of. You got excited and jumped a bit and your ass jiggled. When I tell you I was half hard the rest of the day...” He really was. “You’ve got the best ass. M’obsessed.”

“Really?” Y/N was intrigued. Did he really want to teach her about sex? Would he show her things and make her feel the way she felt the other day? It seemed like an offer she couldn’t pass up at all. “Not turned off by how I don’t know stuff?” She asked with furrowed brows, it was always something she was insecure about. “I know literally nothing though... I don’t really like watching porn it makes me feel gross.” His little story about her ass though? That made her rather excited. She had worn leggings because she had gym that day, thinking that her shirt would cover enough of her ass but clearly it didn’t. Not that she really cared because it was Harry who was looking. “Usually when I wear leggings I don’t wear underwear.” She said mindlessly as she took a sip of her water. “Is that something you like then? Are you like.. a butt guy?” She asked curiously, wanting to know more about what he liked. “I know you... you have a lot of sex, yeah?” Y/N asked with a blush, feeling like she’d get jealous if he answered.

“You weren’t wearing anything under them?” Harry felt his body want to explode. “Just walkin’ about with  no panties and.. fuck me.” That was unfair. Cruel, really. He didn’t have his hands on her that day, and he would think of it every day forward. “I am an ass guy. I love tits too, don’t get me wrong but... there’s something about ass I love. But— I mean, I don’t have a ton, no. It depends. S’like an itch. If I need to scratch it, I will.” He could tell she would be disgruntled if he told her about his sexual escapades. “I know enough to teach you stuff. Whatever you’d want to learn. I’m not too shy of a guy when it comes to that stuff so you can ask me whatever you want. As long as you don’t mind me being dirty mouthed when I talk.” Harry got off on words. So knowing she was interested in asking things? He loved that.

“How often do you have an itch?” Y/N asked, raising her brow at him. Y/N did want to know, part of her did even if she would get a bit pissy about it. She had no reason to be territorial, but she just wanted to be the only girl he went to when he did have an itch. Y/N liked whatever they did the other day, no one had ever made her feel like that. She felt so sexy and beautiful and good. “I don’t mind.” Y/N shrugged, moving closer to him to get comfortable again. “It’s hot in here.” She sighed, getting up off the bed so she could take off her little corduroy dress. It still wasn’t enough though so she simply stayed in her little white socks with a laced rim and her set of underwear that had the cute red hearts on it. She slid back down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, “okay so like.. what do you like to do most then? Obviously there’s the actual sex but like, describe your fantasy. Mine happened the other day so honestly everything’s sort of free game now.”

“I swear to god, you’re my wet dream.” Harry closed his eyes as he tried to center himself. “Jesus... look at you.” He muttered, rolling his eyes over her body. “Love this shit. You’re not trying to be sexy, you just are.” His finger ran over the waistband of the panties on her hip before pulling back. “I like.. well, I love anal. Of course I love pussy, specifically the idea of cumming in one. But I haven’t done that yet. M’not into the idea of knocking up someone random but. I can’t lie and say that it isn’t something that’s hot to me. The idea of like... owning someone like that. A part of me in them. It’s hot but a lot of girls would think I’m actually trying time get them pregnant.” He rolled his eyes. “But I love dirty talk. have a filthy mouth and I know you’re aware of it.” He laughed quietly, pinching his bottom lip. “But yeah, I like eating pussy. Obviously. I like dirty shit, but anal is definitely something I love. Think it’s cause it’s a bit wrong in some people’s eyes. And ass is tight as fuck.” His eyes took in her curves. Yeah. Her ass would be the tightest. It’s never been touched. “What do you mean... your fantasy was the other day?”

Y/N was pleased that he liked her little set, “I did wear it for you in all fairness.” She shrugged a bit and flipped over so she was laying on her stomach, looking over at him while she rested on her elbows. Definitely so she could have her ass up and her tits on display. That was a subconscious choice though. “Never even touched my butt in that way before.” Y/N spoke innocently, “does it feel good?” She asked, genuinely curious. Everyone has an ass so of course maybe he’d know how it felt. “Oh, I’ve like... I’ve thought about what happened the other day a lot. Like, sitting in your lap and having you touch me like that and stuff... really like your hands, I think about them a lot too. And your lips, they’re like perfectly plump.” Y/N didn’t realize he didn’t know she had a crush on him. Her high brain assumed she’d told him.

“It does, but you’ve got to work slowly if you’ve never done it before. Some people like pain so they don’t work themselves open before but I always say that you should... ya know, get fingered or licked out back there and make yourself relax.” He wasn’t surprised she hadn’t touched back there though. “I’m interested to know... you’ve thought about me before? I didn’t know this. I didn’t think you realized I existed much.” He raised a brow, eying her ass. He moved a hand down to rest it on her lower back, playing with her panties. “My hands? That’s interesting. I’m just shocked you knew me. Let alone had those thoughts about me. Wow... that’s fucking cute.” He grinned. “What else did you think about me doing to you?”

Y/N looked away from him bashfully, simply letting him touch her however he wanted to. She really liked his forwardness, it got her going. “Yeah... I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year.” Y/N admitted, playing with her hands. “Thought about you a lot, cause like... you’re what I wanted timmy to be like.” High Y/N clearly spoke freely. Y/N had to think about his next question because in all honesty, she didn’t really know. “I haven’t really thought about anything else like that, just the basic stuff... I don’t know about all of the other things, I know lots of people are into different things.” Kinks, she was talking about kinks. “Is there anything like that that you like? Like— stuff that when you think about it you get all gooey inside? Or sometimes it makes you feel really alert and squirmy?” Y/N asked, remembering how often she’d see him and get that way. “Always liked seeing you skate and stuff, like your jaw gets all clenched and you look kind of angry... liked how big and ruff your hands are... and your arms they’re nice too.”

“Yeah... I like some stuff.” Harry coughed. Fuck, he was gonna tell her too. He was liking the honesty between them as well, knowing she was happy to blurt out shit like how she liked his hands and arms and when he got angry. “Kinks... there’s a lot of things I like to try. I don’t think they count as kinks but I do enjoy spanking. Like, I’d kill to spank your ass. See my handprint on it. I like kinda rough stuff. Don’t let this scare you though cause— we don’t have to.” He warned her. It wasn’t intense stuff but he was aware she was a complete virgin. He didn’t want to scare her off. “Like... choking a little. Hair pulling. Spit exchange. I loved when you squirted on me, it was messy and hot and that shit gets me off. S’why I came so fast.” He murmured. “Also would love to try overstimulation on someone. Make ‘em cum as many times as they can take. Toys. I have a few I’d like to buy but I don’t have people who come round to fuck. I wouldn’t do it at home with a rando. so... you’re definitely special.” He laughed. His hand was sneaking lower. “Mm, I love a bit of power exchange. And I like to be called Daddy. Fuckin hot.”

Y/N was very intrigued, her pupils likely blown out by the idea of Harry doing all these things to her. If he liked that kind of stuff, she’d definitely try it, because the other day she felt so good. 

“The other day you made me cum like three times and it hurt but like.. it felt good?” She explained, “think I like pain though.” That would explain why she liked the concept of him spanking her so much. She liked the idea of being someone special for him. If he wanted to try stuff with her he could, she just wanted to be adored. It was then, when he told her he liked being called daddy that she felt herself whimper. She was getting really horny just talking about all of this stuff, but she was mostly curious about the ass stuff. So, she decided to be bold because the weed was giving her a new found confidence in her relaxed self. Y/N looked at him for a moment, feeling his hand resting on her ass. She moved it up against his hand and let out another little whine.

“Daddy? Can you play with my bum please?”’

Well, fuck. That was something. Something Harry really, really wanted to do. 

“Christ...yeah, I can do that.” He whispered, happy that she was as into this as he was. Because— he definitely was. He moved, rounding her body so he could get the perfect view, the perfect angle so he could touch. He groaned when she stuck it into the air for him, swaying back and forth. She was trying to tempt him, and it was working. He gripped her hips before pulling her towards him, letting out a breath as he took it in. “Fuck me. You've got... the perfect ass.” He whispered, running his hand over it. Pulling the panties up so they were right on her , shaking them a bit before letting them go. “You... are so much trouble, little thing. Aren’t you? Gonna drive me mad.. walkin’ round in leggings with no panties on. Daddy’s gonna have to grab you and play with you next time I see you in them to check.” He muttered, beginning to peel them down. “Fuck, you’re soaked again.” He could see the wetness still stringing to the panties and he used a finger to catch some of it, licking it clean.

It was becoming clear that Y/N was less shy when she was horny. It was the one this she wasn’t afraid of asking for, especially after having that whole conversation with him. She liked knowing what he liked, now she could bring it up if she ever wanted him to touch her. She let out a pleased squeal when he pulled her towards him by the hips, leaning down when her knees brand so her ass could be as high up as possible. Y/N pulled a pillow down so she could rest her head on it and look back at him. She moaned at the idea of him pulling her away at school to mess with her. 

“You always make me messy, daddy.” She told him, lifting her legs so he could pull her panties all the way off. Her cunt was needy, absolutely so, but she was intrigued by the idea of ass play. He seemed to be really into it too so she wanted to see him get all excited about it. “Can spank me if you want..” She gave him the go ahead, “Wanna try everything..”

He didn’t take a second chance. His hand came down, firmly on her ass. The panties off, he could see the skin jiggle under his hand and the pink mark begin to show, her squeal doing more to arouse him. Obviously she liked it, so he did it to the second cheek. 

“Naughty little girl. Hm. You like daddy’s hands spanking you.” Harry said with pleasure. “So gorgeous.” He rolled it in his hands, squeezing hard on the freshly spanked skin to watch her writhe a little bit. “So you’re dirty like me then.” He hummed, grabbing at her and gently pulling her legs apart. “Let’s see that pretty hole.” Of course it was pretty. Never been touched, small. He was going to wreck it. Even if it wasn’t today. “Fuck. M’gonna fuck this hole if it’s the last damn thing I do. Fuck me.” He leaned over and spit thickly on to it, thumb rubbing gently over it in circles. Letting her get a feel for it.

Y/N liked it. She liked it a lot and it scared her because she was unlocking something she wasn’t sure she was ready to face. That was a problem for sober and none feral Y/N to face, right now she was too busy loving every second of it. 

“Mmmmmmm” a long whine came from her as he rolled it in his hand, hands gripping at the pillow. Her legs spread with ease, her eyes closing as she relaxed the best she could. Y/N felt her cunt throb at his words, hearing him spit and feeling it drip down made her go absolutely insane. “Daaaaddyyyyy!” She whined, moving her ass back against his working thumb. Y/N was learning that she was also very impatient. Her cunt was in desperate need of attention and the thumb on her ass was only getting her more worked up. Thank god she’d showered before coming here and she was clean as a whistle.

“That sounds good coming from your mouth.” Harry whispered as his fingers ran over her ass. It was fine now to play with her. Y/N was a needy girl and he was finding this out day by day. “M’gonna play with you. Just lay and take it.” He settles and ran his tongue right on her hole. He knew she had never had this before so he wasn’t surprised when she jolted, but he simply spread her legs open again and took another lick. It was lovely. Not only because Harry genuinely liked eating ass but Y/N squealed, body squirming a bit with each lick. She was mouthy too, saying little babbles of how odd but good it felt.

Just lay and take it.

Oh my did Y/N like the sound of that. The feeling of him licking at her ass was different than when he ate her cunt. It was definitely pleasurable but not the same. Y/N didn’t think she could cum like this, but then again, he hasn’t exactly put his fingers in or anything. 

“Feels nice..” She hummed as she got used to it, hands tightening around the pillow. My god what was she doing? She had a boyfriend for fucks sake but this felt so damn good. Y/N couldn’t stop seeing Harry after this whole project thing ended. She needed to do this again, wanted to do this all again. It really couldn’t be anyone but him. He did say he was going to play with her, what else could be in store? “Ah! Daddy!” Y/N squeaked, feeling him poke his tongue inside. Tingles spread through her at the feeling, it did feel really good. It was then that she felt him press his thumb into her, her ass tightening around his finger. It was so unfamiliar, but she knew she just had to relax. 

“There we go. Not gonna do too much today work this. Gonna finger you and let you feel it, see the pleasure.” And then eat her out and cum on her ass. It sounded like a good plan. He slowly worked his thumb into her, moving down and licking from clit to her entrance. His thumb worked at her hole, giving her an abundance of sensations. “Hm. Maybe I’ll get a little vibrator and we can put it in your ass while I lick your little pussy. How’s that?” He asked. It was obvious that they weren’t going to stop doing this for a while. He was teaching her all about it now and he wasn’t going to stop. Not now. “Mm. Tastes so fucking good.” He took his thumb out, working in a longer finger. He wanted to fuck her ass with it while he licked at her pussy. “Feels nice too, hm? Havin’ me touch you everywhere?”

She whimpered at his offer, “please daddy..” Y/N pleaded all huffy and needy from the sensations. She was feeling him everywhere... it was making her go a bit crazy, especially because it seemed like an insane amount of teasing. It all felt really good, her whole body was feeling the waves of pleasure and all she could do was lay there and take it like he said. 

“Like it so much, daddy... I want to feel more of you..” Y/N knew he would only give her little bits of newness each time, but she really wanted to feel like one with him. She wanted to feel him properly, look him in the eyes and have him make her scream for him like he had before. Y/N was a whiny horny mess all over again, Harry having unlocked pleasures that she didn’t even know existed before today. “So good to me, make me feel so good..” She wished she could thank him in some way, help him out but he was insistent on showing her stuff.

He had made her cum 3 times again. They were even bigger than before and she had in fact squirted again but he loved it. After cleaning up, he had her lazy, fucked out and high body laying on him as he relaxed. 

“We’re gonna be good friends.” He hummed. Part of him was worried though. Because very quickly he was feeling a bit of a want for her. One where he could kiss her anytime he wanted but, she still was technically in a relationship. Regardless if he treated her shitty, it was still a title and he didn’t know how to ask her if she was going to break up with him. Did he even want a relationship? Would she want a relationship with him? Was he just a bad boy fantasy? 

Regardless, it didn’t matter. Y/N was going to be his friend.

She pressed soft kisses to his chest, relaxing he had yet to get shirtless or naked for her. It was always her. But maybe that’s just how he wanted to keep things. On a friend level. 

“Mhm...” Y/N hummed and again nuzzled her face into his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin. “Thank you again...” She spoke just below his ear. “You me feel special.” Y/N was positive he was an angel sent to her. He truly made her feel like she was some heavenly being, made her reach highs she’d never felt and helped her let go of all the things that have her anxiety. She didn’t know how she could possibly thank him for it, but she would somehow. It wasn’t going to be hard to keep this from Timmy considering he barely hung out with her anymore, but she was going on a date with him sometime next week like he promised. She needed to talk to him, ask him about them and how he felt about them and why they weren’t having sex. She needed to get to the bottom of it.

The weird thing was, Y/N made Harry feel special too. And that scared him a little bit. It was difficult to get Harry to the point where he felt a deep connection with someone because he did fear a betrayal. Granted, he was the one helping her with a betrayal of someone else but... it felt so different. With the girls he slept with before, it was clear cut that it was only one night and it didn’t mean anything besides scratching an itch. He couldn’t say that about Y/N. He cared about her. Even more so finding out she had had a crush on him. It would hurt her more if he was a dick. She was sensitive emotionally and Harry was mindful of that. But he didn’t want to get attached when she already seemed attached to Timmy. He would have broken up with him by now if he was in her position. He wondered why it was taking so long. But either way— he wasn’t going to sleep with her fully until she was single. Just in case.

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

[part 3]

A/N: the saga continues.... they really do get bold - n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

[mediocre-writerr]

betty [quinn fabray]

quinn fabray x fem reader

summary: the last part of my quinn fabray mini series! this takes place in the pov of quinn and her side of the story! enjoy : )

*not my gif*

“Quinny?” my mom poked her head through the door, “You got to get ready for school.” she says softly. 

I groaned as I shoved my head into a pillow. I didn’t want to go to school today or well ever for that matter. 

And you’re probably thinking: Quinn what teenager actually wants to go to school? 

i did...once. When I didn’t fuck up the best thing that ever happened to me. Meeting her at her locker, holding her hand down the hall, singing songs to her in glee club. All of it. But that’s all faded away like a moment in time. 

“Not today.” I mumble. 

“Quinn, honey, I let you miss so much school these past couple months. I need you to go just this once.” she whispers before closing the door. 

I let out another groan as I pulled the covers off my body. Stumbling my way into the bathroom. As I look in the mirror the pit that was in my stomach continued growing. 

I hated how I looked. I hated how I felt. I fucked up. It was all on me.

And it all started at junior prom.

“Love, dance with me!” Y/N yelled over the loud music that was playing, trying to pull me out of my seat at the table I was sitting at. 

I smiled widely at her enthusiasm before raising my eyebrows at her. She knows I hate the crowds. Sure, I was popular and wanted the attention.

But there’s a difference between walking down the hall like a bad ass than being trapped in a crowd of thousands, feeling like you’re suffocating and sweating.

“This is my favorite song.” she pouted when I gave her the look. 

I pulled the hand that she had in her hand closer to me. Giving it a sweet kiss, “Next dance, I promise.”

She pouts a little before running back off to the dance floor. I sat there drinking the spiked punch, letting the alcohol burn all the way down my throat and into my stomach. Leaving a warm sensation behind. 

I watched Y/N’s every move. She wasn’t very far away from where I was planted. Jumping up and down, doing crazy dance moves, with Sam. 

I love Sam with every bone in my body, but I was always jealous of the blonde boy. He was a nice guy, funny, good looking and super close to Y/N. 

“Looks like your girlfriend is having more fun with Sam, than she is with you.” Santana says, leaning against the chair I was sitting on.

“I don’t like the crowds. She knows that. She’s just trying to enjoy her prom.” I mumble, trying to ignore her snide remarks. 

Santana hums in response before taking a sip of her own punch, “Sure, let’s keep telling yourself that. And I’ll be the one saying ‘I told you so’ when she leaves you for him.” 

That was it. That’s what started my insecurities. 

Was I good enough for Y/N? Or will she find her own non-complicated love with Sam or Finn? Was Santana right?

After procrastinating for God knows how long, I finally made it to school. 

“Quinn!” Mercedes yelled getting my attention away from locker. 

I tried forcing on my best smile, “Hey what’s up?” 

“You’re coming to Y/N’s party tonight right? Everyone’s gonna be there! I don’t want you to miss it.” Mercedes said.

I shook my head looking down at my shoes, “No. I wasn’t planning on going. I don’t think she would want me there anyway.” I mumble.

Mercedes looked at me sympathetically, “Well I want you to come. Dig yourself out of the depressing hole you’re in and come hang out with people who care about you. Think about it, okay?” 

I nod before she goes running off to talk to Kurt. I open my locker and stare at the cardigan hanging off of one of the hooks. My eyes dart around my locker to see the pictures of the two of us hanging on the walls. 

I miss her.

The bell rings and I weave my way through the somewhat crowded walls and into my anatomy class for homeroom. I take my seat next to Jacob Ben Israel and sigh softly. 

“Alright class take your seats!” Mr. Barnson yells as he walks in the door, taking his bag off.

I look at the empty stool next to me. Y/N wasn’t in here today. She must’ve stayed home. I wish I could’ve, especially after what happened yesterday. 

“Jacob, you’re going to be Ms. Fabray’s new lab partner.” he says and I watch as Jacob’s eyes lighten up.

The afro-hair kid coming to sit next to me, “Can I smell your hair?” he asks, disturbingly. 

I shutter in disgust and raise my hand, “Yes Ms. Fabray?” 

“What happened to Y/N?” I ask.

“Ah, Ms. Y/L/N switched homerooms this morning.” he says nonchalantly while looking back at his list for attendance. 

Oh. 

The day went on and on, dragging like a bad movie that wouldn’t end. Until finally it did. 

I walked to school today. I’ve been walking to school the past couple months. It was a nice break to just clear my head and think about everything. Sometimes it hurt to do, but it was much needed. 

I didn’t want to go straight home today. I didn’t want to go home and just lock myself in my room, curling up into a ball of nothingness. So I walked around more. 

“Quinn? Do you need a ride?” I hear a voice ask.

I turn towards the voice to see Mike and Tina in his car, “No thanks. I think I’m just gonna walk.” 

“Okay. Well we’ll see you tonight, right? We all miss hanging out with you.” he suggests.

“I don’t know.” I say looking anywhere, but them.

“You should.” Tina says before the light turns green and they drive off with a wave. 

I continued walking until I found myself at the mall need Breadstix. I hate the mall. 

I used to love going there with Santana and Brittany back during sophomore year of high school. When I was dating Finn and head Cheerio, but now it just reminds me of everything that went wrong. 

When my insecurity was at its greatest peak. 

“Hello beautiful!” I say as I answer Y/N’s phone call, walking through the mall. 

“Hi love! I miss you so much.” she whispers and I smile softly.

I hear rustling coming from her side of the phone, another girl’s voice, “I miss you more.” I say softly, “Who are you with?”

“Oh I’m with my friend Lizzie. She’s also a intern here and we’re just having dinner! She’s really cool!” Y/N said excitedly.

The rest of the conversation was about her internship and the amazing stuff she was learning and the new people she was meeting. How much she was having.

I should have been happy for her, but all I could think about what was, how much her life is better without me? What a fun life she could have without me? 

I left the mall that I was once walking in and nothing seemed good enough to buy. I was getting closer to my house as I was walking on the broken cobblestone. Just thinking about her.

How much I just want her to come back home and into my arms. How much I want her to let me know that I’m the only one she wants and that I am good enough for her.

Someone’s car came by slowing down next to me as they rolled their window down, pulling me out of my thoughts. Santana was sitting in the driver’s seat with her sunglasses on. Her usual high pony was down which revealed her curly brunette hair. 

She looked like a figment of my worst intentions. Her lips stained with a dark red lipstick and the way she was eyeing me. It just sent shivers down my spine. 

“Quinn, get in, let’s drive.” 

And those four words was all it took. Well four words and a human full of loneliness. 

A car honks shaking me from that terrible terrible memory. Leaving me with a mind and head full of thoughts. 

Should I go to the party tonight? Will she want me there? Will I regret not going? 

There’s two ways me going would play out.

1.) I would get there and she would open the door and slam it on my face. Then she would open it again just to tell me to go fuck myself. 

I shutter at the thought of the most likely scenario. The sun was setting turning the sky into a cotton candy looking sky. What a beautiful sky for a stressful decision. 

Santana laid next to me on the grassy field of my backyard. It was a cotton candy color as the orange hue blended with the dreamy blue. 

I spent the week driving around with Santana. We would go exploring the small town in Lima or just drive around singing to random songs. 

We laid there in silence just staring up at the sky. She took my hand in hers intertwining them together. And in that moment I didn’t care. I wanted to feel something, anything. 

Anything besides this pit of loneliness. 

She turned her head towards mine. And in a beat her lips were on mine. It was soft at first yet passionate. Then the next thing I knew, clothes were flying off, and hands were roaming. 

2.) Y/N opens the door and sees me standing there. I apologize for everything, she leads me to our spot in the backyard. And kiss me in front of everyone. 

Yeah like that would ever fucking happen. 

I didn’t know what I was expecting when Y/N came back from Pennsylvania. After the many nights spent with Santana, I dropped her. Or well ghosted her I should say.

I didn’t answer her calls or her texts. I knew what I did was wrong and I decided to just end it before things could get any worse. 

Was it fucked up? 

Yes, but I did what I had to try and salvage what I had left in our relationship.

I thought I could get away with it too. Until the guilt started eating me alive. The pit in my stomach wasn’t loneliness, it was guilt. 

And then Santana told Brittany. Brittany told Artie. Artie told Tina. Tina told Mike. Mike told Puck. Puck told Mercedes. Mercedes told Kurt. Kurt told Blaine. Blaine told Rachel. Rachel told Finn. Finn told Sam. Then finally, Rachel told Y/N since no one else had the heart to. 

Y/N slammed my locker shut causing me to flinch back, “Tell me she’s lying.” she whispers, her voice breaking. 

“Who’s lying love? What happened?” I say attempting to take her in my arms, but she took a step back.

“Tell me that you didn’t hook up with Santana while I was gone. And that it’s some weird vendetta against you.” she whispers staring at me. 

I couldn’t lie to her anymore. It was killing me. I didn’t want to lie anymore. I just needed to tell her. 

I just stared at her desperately trying to find an explanation. Desperately trying to apologize and explain everything to her, but no words came out.

“Y/N-”

“You did didn’t you?” Y/N asked barely in a whisper.

I nodded sadly and a sob escaped her lips. 

“Y/N please let me-” I try to say and she shakes her head.

“No. We’re done Quinn!” she yells in between sobs running off. 

I looked up and found myself in front of Y/N’s house. 

I wasn’t trying to go here. I guess my feet just carried me here. The party was in full swing and through her window I could see her just sitting there, nursing a cup. 

Her favorite song was playing and she wasn’t dancing. She was just sitting there, trying to smile, but was struggling too. 

It hurt me, knowing that I’m the reason for her pain. 

I hesitantly knocked on the door and the door flung open. Y/N was standing there and she was shocked, but her eyes softened. But it didn’t matter anymore because she covered it up with a harder shell. 

She came out and stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind her.

“Happy birthday.” I whisper.

She mumbles, “Thanks.” 

“Can we talk please?” I ask.

She was thinking about it. I could tell. Her eyes were furrowed and she was biting her lip. She looked in deep thought before nodding and leading me to the backyard garden.

There was a bench swing hanging from the trees. And we took a seat on there together. 

This is the spot. Our spot. 

We had our first kiss here. I asked her to be my girlfriend here. Everything happened right here. 

“Y/N I’m sorry. And before you say anything I know. I know sorry means nothing and it has no excuse for what I did. But I am so deeply sorry. I don’t know much and I don’t have much to say because I wasn’t expecting to come tonight But I do know that I miss you and you were the best thing that has ever happened to me.” I whisper letting all of the tears spill. 

She lets out a shaky sigh, “I know. I forgive you.” 

I smile softly and I try to lean in to kiss her, but she immediately pulls back. Leaving me embarrassed and heartbroken.

“Just because I forgive you doesn’t mean that I want to get back together. I know you know that what you did was wrong. And I trust you when you say that it wasn’t anything special. But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I love you Quinn Fabray, but I just can’t do this right now.” she whispers back.

She begins to wipe away the tears from my cheeks. I took in a deep breath before embracing the feeling of her touch. Y/N closes her eyes and rests her forehead on top of mine. 

I cup her cheeks into my hands. My thumb trying to memorize all of the crevasse, cheek bones, every little feature. 

“I will always love you and maybe we’ll be together one day. Just not today.” she whispers pulling away and kissing my cheek softly, “Goodbye Quinn.” 

[serasvictoria]

So I guess I have an AU now?

Yeah. I have no idea either. It just kinda happened. I was talking to someone (you know who you are) about past fandoms and stuff that I wrote for it way back then, when a scene suddenly popped into my head that wouldn't let me go.

So here you go. Have a Medieval England Outlaw AU.

The closer he got to his home, the heavier the cloak around his shoulders seemed to get.

They were almost moving at a snail’s pace since he was in no real hurry to be reunited with his father, his sister or his betrothed, the latter of which had been dutifully waiting for his return. He brushed over the gaudy brooch that she had given him when he left from these lands a few years ago. Something to remember her by. The thing was hideous and he only wore it now because they would soon be reunited again and then they would probably be wed as soon as possible to unite their houses.

“Charles.”

“Hmm?” He looked up at the man in front of him, a big smile plastered all over his face. “What is it, Talbert?”

“Just wondering why we aren’t racing back home. You must be looking forward to seeing your lady after all.”

Charles shook his head when he heard someone snickering behind him. Joseph was endlessly amused by everything. He was skinny as a reed and because of his build one could be led to believe that he was a push over, but there were few men who were as good with a sword as he was. Talbert on the other hand was a champion at the joust and had unhorsed many a man during tourneys. Some even compared him to the likes of William Marshall, but he always waved those compliments away and joked that he could never compare to him.

“I’m in no rush,” Charles replied with a slight smile. His tunic suddenly felt like it was constricting him and was making it difficult to breathe. “We have been rushing from place to place for a few years now so can’t we take it slow. Just once?”

“Whatever you say,” Joseph said behind him. “But think of how happy Lady Beatrice must be to see you have returned safe and sound? And with hardly a scratch on you as well.”

“We saw to that!” Talbert chimed in cheerily. “Couldn’t have you return home with parts of your anatomy missing.”

“Almost happened too if I hadn’t…”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” The mood had been good as soon as they had set foot on English soil again, his friends happy to return home once more, so why did he feel so conflicted about it? “Yes, I am very happy that the two of you protected me a few times. Whatever would I do with you?”

Laughter rose on both sides of him and Charles couldn’t help but shudder. The things that they had seen out there. Especially at Acre. So many lives lost and for what? What did they have to show for it in the end? And even worse, on their way back home, the King had been captured in Austria and had since been handed over to the Holy Roman Emperor who had demanded a ransom for his safe return. Everything had ended in a complete shambles and it didn’t look like things would improve any time soon.

“Very quiet all of a sudden.”

It had been a fairly innocent remark and when Charles listened, he did indeed think that it was quiet. Too quiet. No birdsong, no wind rustling through the leaves, it was as if the world was collectively holding its breath for some odd reason. He could see Talbert turn in front of him to open his mouth again, when something flew out at him from the bushes and caused Talbert’s horse to rear up. Whatever it was, it had probably been meant to unhorse him, but he had plenty of experience in that area so it hadn’t worked. He calmed his horse down by putting his hand on the animal’s neck and whispering to it.

Then he heard a screech behind him and all of a sudden someone seemed to have materialised between him and Joseph, someone big who had taken the reins of his horse, and someone else was standing on the other side of his friend with a sword pointing right at his neck. Looking ahead of him, Talbert had maneuvered his horse sideways across the path, sword drawn and was pointing it at someone who was in front of him that Charles couldn’t see.

Before he had a chance to move himself, he could see something moving from the corner of his eye, the flash of a blade, and seconds later, he had fallen off his horse and was laying on his back by the side of the road. Whoever it had been, they had cut the cinch of his saddle and it had slid off the animal and taken him along with it. His hand was on the hilt of his sword, ready to strike if need be, but he felt someone press a boot against the back of his hand so he couldn’t get the sword out of its scabbard.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Looking up, he saw a lithe figure looming over him, the lower half of the face obscured by a scarf and the brow covered by a hood. The only thing he could make out of his assailant were their dark eyes. He tried to move his hand, but the person put more pressure on their boot and he could hear his bones crunch.

“Stop it.” There was something off about the voice that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but the pain in his hand was making it hard to focus. He pulled his hand away and flexed his fingers. “Wise choice.”

“Who are you?”

“Come on. Hooded figures surround you and your friends and you think we’ll just tell you who we are?”

“Fair enough.” He looked at Joseph first who shook his head and then at Talbert who was too preoccupied with keeping another person at bay. “What do you want?”

“Your money.” While he had made no motion to reach for a weapon, his assailant was taking no chances and placed the boot in the middle of his chest instead. “For safe passage through these woods.”

“These are my father’s lands. Didn’t think I had to pay for that.”

“Ah. FitzPatrick’s son.” So whoever it was, they were from around these parts otherwise they might not have known that this forest was part of his ancestral home. “Thought you might have died in the desert.”

“As you can see, I haven’t.”

“Clearly.” There was amusement in their voice, but if anything they just leaned more weight on their leg and pressed down on him harder. “Enjoy yourself in the Holy Land?”

“Not really, but I don’t see why it’s any of your business.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. It is my business.” The boot was removed quite suddenly and seconds later a knee replaced it and he could feel the cold blade of the dagger pressing against his throat. “While you were playing war games in the desert, the people were bled dry. I have seen people starve because of this war. And now they are raising taxes yet again, because the King has been captured. Do you think that’s fair? That we starve while your father hides behind his walls?”

“I haven’t been home in years. I didn’t know.”

“No. No, you didn’t.” The dagger was removed and he could feel it skim over his chest before moving to his belt where it cut away his purse. “I’ll be taking this. And tell your friends to hand over their money too if they don’t want any harm to come to them.”

“Talbert. Joseph. Give them what they want.”

“What? Are you serious!” From what Charles could hear, Joseph had already handed over his money, but naturally Talbert was opposing the decision. “I’m not giving them anything.”

“Just do it.”

“But I…”

“Do it or I kill your friend.” Those were very clear and uncertain terms and the person with his knee on his chest even held the knife up so Talbert could see it clear as day. “I will do it. Know that.”

His friend groaned loudly in reply, but he did as he was told. Charles would reimburse him for any money lost as soon as they got home. He would talk to his father about what had been going on in his absence afterwards. It seemed like things had changed dramatically in the years that he had been away. Not that they had been good before, but it didn’t bode well if there were outlaws living in the forest around his ancestral home.

“What’s this?” The tip of the blade was pointing at a ring around his finger. “That looks valuable.”

“I can’t let you have that.” His hand formed a fist to ensure that it could not be taken. “It was a gift from my late mother.” Despite his objections, his hand was pried open and the ring was slid from his finger. “Please don’t.”

It was held up to the light and studied closely. The sunlight glinting of the gold surface and on the crest of his mother’s family that he knew so well. The outlaw slipped it back on his finger gently to his surprise for he knew that the ring was valuable and would be able to fetch a good sum if someone might try to sell it.

“Worthless.” The sunlight that was filtering through the leaves above them reflected on the brooch and caught the outlaw’s attention. “And this?”

“Take it.” Charles removed the damned thing himself and held it up. “You can use it better than I can.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” It was looked at more closely and he could see their mouth twist underneath the hood in disgust. “This thing is hideous.”

“I know.”

“But I’ll take it. We could feed a lot of families with this.” The brooch disappeared into the purse. “No matter how ugly it is.” He heard amusement in the voice clear as day again and then there was a curious tilt to the outlaw’s head, eyes focused on his own once more. “And I want something else.”

“Anything.”

“A kiss.”

“Excuse me?” Charles wasn’t sure if this was a joke or not, but before he could protest to this sudden request the outlaw pulled the scarf down and his eyes widened when he saw that it had been a woman all along. That was why the voice had sounded so strange to him. “You’re a…”

“Yes.” She dipped her head down and smiled at him. Murmuring against his lips, she added, “I am.”

When their lips touched, he swore that he could feel her smiling against his mouth. Whoever she was, she was quite aggressive and had claimed his lips in a hungry kiss. He gave as good as he got, kissing her back with equal fervour until she finally pulled away to take in a deep breath of air. The scarf was pulled back up and she got up in one fluid movement. His purse disappeared underneath her tunic and she signalled at her fellow outlaws. She bowed deeply at him and he could hear her laugh right before they sprinted back into the forest and disappeared among the trees within seconds. They obviously knew this place like the back of their hand.

“Talbert.” His friend had been about to give chase and he stopped when Charles called out his name. “Leave it. Let them have it.”

“We can’t just…”

“Whatever money you lost, I will return it to you.” He got up off the ground and patted the dirt from his clothes. “I promise.”

“That’s not necessary.” Talbert jumped off his horse and looked at Charles’ saddle. “How are we going to fix that?”

“We’re close to home. I’ll think of something.” He picked the saddle up off the ground and put it back on his horse. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing at what had just taken place. Talbert and Joseph looked at each other as if he had just lost his mind. “Come on. We can make it to my home before nightfall if we go now.”

Taking the horse’s reins, he started guiding the animal along the path and walked alongside it. He had to make up some kind of story to tell Beatrice about why he didn’t have the brooch anymore. He’d much rather tell her that he had lost in the Holy Land than tell her that it had been taken from him so close to home.

“Who was that anyway?”

Charles turned to look at Joseph who had his eyebrows raised. Both of his friends had obviously seen the outlaw kissing him and now they were curious. It was a question that he had been asking himself as well.

“I have no idea.”

[klover-cafe]

SUMMARY +RANT (LONG!)

Killstagram (살인스타그렘) season 2 just came to an end so I’ll give a review!

I heard about it from a friend and it seems like one of the more popular Webtoons. It’s easy to see how it catches people’s attention, it is quite thrilling. There are however, a few loopholes that I noticed while reading that I haven’t noticed others mentioning. Is it just me? Lol

Here’s a brief summary, I’ll save spoilers for later:

There’s two seasons which aren’t really related and you don’t need to read S1 before S2, the common factor is both MCs are influencers on Instagram.

S1:

Do Remi (도레미🎶) is a young influencer, she’s always posting wherever she goes in real time with hashtags like #lunch #frontofhouse (yikes) and basically makes it way to easy for anyone to know where she is. Her friend warns her that there’s been a lot of stalkers targeting influencers and how she needs to be more careful, post after she’s left etc. This causes them to fight which DoRemi quickly regrets and invites her over the next day or so to make up. Little does she know it’s already too late and she indeed has a stalker. Her friend gets abducted and uses her phone in order to deceive Remi. A lot of stuff happens, she meets a boy who she quickly depends on for moral support, crazy looking man who says he’s going to kill her, and a twist that you may or may not see coming.

S2:

Cheon Sarang (천사랑 👼❤️) also a young influencer, is out shopping with a friend getting ready for a birthday party with a bunch of other influencers. At the party she gets a weird message about some ghost murder game telling her she’s now a participant. A ‘tutorial’ message appears and someone right in front of her is struck by a falling chandelier?! She wants nothing to do with it, in fact she avoids anything to bring any bad publicity because secretly she’s raising a daughter and can’t risk not having an income. It soon explains that everyday participants must vote on who they think the ghost is, that person will die, but if it turns out they’re not a ghost the game continues. After someone is votes on one participant is chosen at random and gets to chose how they die. After that comes the ‘ghost killing time’ where the ghost itself picks one participant and has a certain number of hours (maybe 4?) to kill them. This one gets even more intense with many turns.

Can I just say I love the names the author chose? Obviously Do Remi is the music notes but in case you’re not too familiar with Korean, 천사 means Angel, and 사랑 mean love, so her name could be interpreted as angle love (I’m still learning, there could be another meaning, but as I understand it it’s pretty cute)

Both seasons are action packed and waste no time to get into it. It’s thrilling, the art is eye catching and cute where it needs to be, creepy where it needs to be. From time to time there’s some inconsistencies when it comes to perspective and anatomy but overall not bad. If you’re looking for something scary that’s easy to get into you’ll probably enjoy it.

I did notice a lot of holes however, especially in S2. These WILL BE <<SPOILERS>> so decided if you want to reas ahead or not.

First of all she keeps talking about her daughter but she never tries calling her or anything. I could’ve gotten over this but there’s no mention of a babysitter and later on she mentions she has no other family. Did this not bother anyone else?

Next, that fight scene with pip squeak when we first realize how crazy she is. She hides in the closet, sitting with her feet up facing the door. Tell me HOW HER HOODIE GOT CAUGHT IN THE DOORS? I get she needed to be seen somehow but it’s just not possible with her sitting in that position. Should’ve made it her shoelaces. Then when she’s caught and going to be attacked she CUTS OFF THE GUY’S ARM WITH A KNIFE. THE KNIFE IS SHORTER THAN HIS FORARM IS WIDE?? Then on top of that, imagine how sharp that knife would have to be in order to cut through the middle a bone in one sweep. Dramatic? Yes. Accurate? No…

Then when Sarang is confronted with her, having to sneak around to get her cell back she throws her shoes as a distraction across the room…only to run to her cell while wearing those same shoes in the next panel?? Did I miss where an extra pair of shoes came from??

A little later on Sarang is caught and tied up, but she miraculously frees herself by burning through the rope with the lighter she previously swallowed and now threw up!…what? She was literally talking and couldn’t use her hands to get herself to vomit that up. Not to mention she’d be chocking if she swallowed that..???

Now onto Pig, AKA Harry(해리)?? Sorry if her name translated differently! Anyways, so she’s at this party, hands full of food, ready to jump the jerk who ran off after the one night stand, when she suddenly HAS HER BABY WITH HER? WHERE’D IT COME FROM? Also surprising sue decided to bring it to such a fancy party but I guess how else will she prove she had his baby. The after the jerk claims he had no idea who she is (sir, it wasn’t just a night together, you spent actual time together, how do you not remember women you’ve slept with????) SHE THROWS THE BABY AT HIM?? Lady, how have you not been arrested.

Now Taehyuk when he comes back. Sir. Where did you get that wedding dress? WHERE WERE YOU HIDING IT? He appeared in no time at all so I can’t imagine he had time to go shopping.

Now back to the daughter. We find out she (again, spoiler) was actually dead all along. I’m trying to understand when this happened? How long was she left in the apartment? I understand Sarang had a mental break down but again, if she was convinced her daughter was still alive then why did she never try to call her?

In the end the ghost murder game continues because children don’t grow up. I thought the end was fitting and though I just ranted quite a bit it did entertain me and the ghosts were creepy, especially that bug man 🤮 Anyways, not sure if you’ve read this far but I’d be interested to hear what others thought about the story!

[ktheist]

maybe, maybe

a series of coincidental meet-ups lead to an unlikely relationship between two people.

characters: smiley jeon jungkook word count. 4.8k genre: college au / slice of life au

It couldn’t have gotten any cornier than this.

A girl bawling her eyes out on the bench in the dark, letting out sobs that may or may not be the cause of the park being named ‘weeping willow’. There isn’t a willow tree and though Harry Potter is an evergreen series that lives on in every millennial, that is not the reason for the park to be named that. It’s a place where people - girls, boys and non-binaries alike - go to bawl their eyes out because assignments and exams are taking up college students’ time so much so most, if not all, doesn’t have the time to socialize.

Tonight, you are one of those weeping college students.

You don’t need to worry about it being weird. It’s an established fact that if anyone heard someone crying while passing the park, they would go on with their life. Not everyone likes to be comforted, especially not by a stranger and though yes it’s a good gesture but it really is unnecessary. Most people who came here just want to bawl their eyes out and trudge back to the library and continue their work.

So yes, you’re 99% sure no one was going to look at you as though you’re insane even though the bench you’re sitting on is right by the walkway. Nobody’s passed here for the last five minutes, you think you might be able to get another five in and be done with it.

But as it turns out, for a reason only known to the cosmos, someone asked, “Um, excuse me?”

At first, you think you’re imagining it but after thirty-seconds, you look up with puffy red eyes and possibly some snot running down your nose. You suck it back in.

“Y-yes?”

He’s quite good-looking but that may be because the closest lamp post is three feet away and it’s situated right behind him, hence the rather attractive shadow cast over his face. At the present though, you’re fuddled by him smiling at getting your attention as though help has come.

“Hi, I’m here to send some stuff to my sister but I’m a little lost, could you maybe point me in the right direction to Alpha Pie?”

“Phi. Alpha Phi.” You stare him dead in the eye, uninterested, as though you’ve been cut off just before a good orgasm because the guy didn’t know a girl’s anatomy.

He echoes the words correctly this time with a smile you didn’t think could get brighter but it did. Standing up and wiping the tears (and ugh, you really did have snot on your face) off, you gesture for him to follow you.

The campus is lit by the same kind of dim lamp post that accompanied you awhile back while you bawled away. Some students passed you by and you can somewhat understand the hollow look in their eyes and silently acknowledge the mutual feeling of being tired and wanting to go back and lay on your comfortable bed.

“So, you live on campus?” He breaks the silence with - now that you’re actually looking at him - a dimpled smile.

“Sometimes,” you answer shortly, not giving any indication to elaborate further - whoever his sister is, you can only hope she’s not crying her eyes out in her room because of assignment season.

Other times you spend your nights at McDonald's or some bar that opens till 6.

Silence sets in again and though it may not be wholly comfortable but it’s preferred - by you at least. But it’s short lived, it seems as you hear another question come from him.

“Any reason why you were crying just now?” The corners of his lips are curled cutely and he’s looking at you as though he’s asking to make small talk which he possibly is and don’t really care about the reason.

You don’t really mind either as you shrug, eyes still puffy but you’re halfway to looking like you didn’t just cry at the Weeping Willow.

“The usual. Assignments, datelines. We’re here.”

He seems to be satisfied with the answer and the both of you seem to have arrived in front of the sorority-looking building with the alphabets ‘Alpha Phi’ written proudly on top of the entrance.

“Thanks, I couldn’t have found it myself now I’m five minutes early from the time we bet I would show up.”

You don’t particularly care.

“No problem.”

And with that, you wave a hand as in to dismiss the fact that he’d taken up the 5 minutes you could have gotten to continue crying.

-

You almost forgot you helped a stranger find his way when you met the aforementioned stranger again as you walk out of the wooden doors of Alpha Phi. He’s donned in a crisp white button down with the cuffs of the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbow and his hands in his pockets.

“Hi, we meet again.”

It takes you half a minute to register who he is and you’re surprised he remembers your face what with the baggy clothes and unkempt hair the other day. Not to say that you’re looking any better today but your eyes are lined and winged and your lips are glossed - that’s as far as you’re willing to go to look presentable during the daylight.

“Yeah and I’m assuming you manage to find your way without bothering a crying soul this time - I hope.”

He laughs, the dimples more prominent in the light and you confirm your suspicions that he wasn’t good-looking because there was not much lighting that night - he really is, simply, good-looking.

“You live here.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement - an affirmation to his question from last time.

“Sometimes.” The corners of your own lips upturn as you repeat your previous answer.

“About the other day -”

You wave a dismissive hand, this time really meaning it when you say, “Don’t mention it.”

“No, I was about to ask you to coffee but you left so fast and I was worried I’d get lost again if I went after you and you happen to turn my advances down. Where else would I get a guide?”

That manages to make you smile wider. Alright so he’s chill.

“What makes you think I won’t turn you down right now?”

He shrugs and only then do you realize how his sleeves wrap around his arms nicely.

“Maybe in the light I look less like a creep?”

“Maybe.” You echo though he looked nothing like a creep then and he looks less than a creep now, “but I’m good.”

The tiniest stretch of his smile tells you he’s surprised but he keeps it on and nods.

“I understand. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

That day, you go to class with the same amount of concentration and determination to pass and graduate. You’re in your third year and third years either make you or break you - as what the people a year above you have said.

-

“I hardly think this is a coincidence anymore.” At this point you can recognize the playfulness in the tone and you whirl around to see the same man whose offer for coffee you turned down.

“I’m meeting a friend,” it all comes together quite easily and you wiggle your hand in front of him with the same level of playfulness in his tone, “Sooyoung is your sister.”

The second year isn’t as close to you as she is to your roommate, Seulgi, but on one fine night when you just got back and she was hanging around in your room, she had implored you to go to this coffee shop which chocolate chip cookies - as she claims - are to-die-for. It’s not as odd anymore why Seulgi had plans and couldn’t accompany her and she sent you the address instead of going with you since you’re both going the same direction from the same sorority.

He whisks past you and places an order before turning to you, inclining for you to place your own order. You do and it turns out the place doesn’t sell cookies and it’s actually famous for its muffins.

“I hope everything’s well.” Though his tone is light as the night you thought he was making small talks when he asked why you were crying alone, you realize now that it’s genuine concern.

He’s just that type of nice guy that gets his sister into getting her best friend’s roommate into go to a coffee shop just because he wants to make sure you’re okay.

“Really, when you saw me, I just had a lot and needed to let it out. It’s not that deep but I appreciate you checking up on me.”

His eyes twinkle a bit as he takes his first sip of Americano, “it’s not easy - it’s gonna take a lot of tears but you’ll get through it someday.”

Raising an eyebrow, you scrutinize him through your lashes with a twitch of your own, “I might be wrong but did you really not know your way or did you just not want me to be crying alone but also didn’t want to look sympathetic so you asked for directions.”

“I really was loss.”

Not that you care so much so you lean back against the chair and take your first bite out of chocolate chip muffin.

-

Jeon Jungkook. He told you his name and you subtly noted that Sooyoung’s family name rhymes with mark but they could be half-siblings or step-siblings. If the two occasions (including this one) of meeting him in button downs and black or navy blue pants didn’t tell you, then he’s telling you now that he’s working for a company. From the looks of it, he seems like he’s able to come and leave anytime he wants but you can’t.

It’s not disappointment that crosses his face but it’s the kind of smile that looks like he knows you’re going to up and leave, if not the moment you see him, then half an hour into enjoying your coffees.

“Student council, director of the magazine club. I understand.”

“What else did Sooyoung tell you about me?” You raise an eyebrow, this time genuinely curious about what a stranger - maybe he qualifies as an acquaintance now - knows about you that you haven’t told him.

“She didn’t tell me, I saw your picture on the board when I was heading to Prof. Kim’s office.”

Judging from where Prof. Kim’s office is and his possible connection to the aforementioned professor, you squint your eyes, curiosity piquing by the second.

“You went to Yonsei?”

The wink he gives is uncalled for and paired with that cute smile, is a deadly combination. You almost want to sit in this coffee shop longer with him just to know more - enough to satisfy the curious cat within you before you erase him from your memories because you really can’t afford to get distracted right now.

“I’ll tell you if you agree to go to dinner with me.”

Though he’s a tad more cute and a little bit interesting than the men you’ve been on coffee dates with - back in your freshman days, now you barely have time to sleep - the fascination ends here. If you were going to fall for dimples and smiles, you would have been with Professor Kim’s son, Namjoon by now.

“Some other time then.”

“Meaning never.”

You almost look like you’re caught off guard but you mimic his curled lips and wonder if all the smiles that got your heart melting each time was a facade but coming from a man who looked at you like you were a person instead of a wreck back at the park, you somehow believe that his smiles are sincere, though sometimes they look sad.

“Here’s my number.” You hand over the poorly scribbled handwriting of a napkin to him and for once, wrote the digits correctly without intentional amendments.

He takes it between his index and middle fingers, waving it in the air as though he’s saying he accepts the treaty.

On the way to the group meeting - the essential reason you couldn’t stay long - you curse yourself out for leaving with a ‘see you later’ instead of a - as he mentioned - ‘maybe never.’

-

“Someone’s calling.” Namjoon nudges your elbow and true enough, the screen lights up and vibrates with a sequence of unfamiliar numbers which may not be of grave importance at the moment unless if Namjoon brought it to your attention because it’s distracting him from studying.

You have a tendency to not pick up unknown calls which to this day have proven to be equally advantageous and disadvantageous but you never learn.

“I almost thought you gave me the wrong number.”

There’s this urge to smile at the playfulness of the voice.

“Why would I?”

He lets out a short laugh as though not believing it completely but whether he places his trust on you or not is not particularly your concern. His omission to answer clearly says he and you share the same understanding of why people give fake numbers but it’s pointless to talk about that.

“Where are you now?”

“Studying.”

As though he expected the generic answer or perhaps maybe it’s just a conversation starter to get to his next point, you will never know.

“Come out. I’m at the bench from that night.”

Though odd and rather unlikely for him to be there right at this moment, you tread down the walkway, more curious than excited if he’s telling the truth of his whereabouts.

You don’t know why you thought he was lying at the first place but it would be a lie if you say you’re not surprised to see that familiar flock of dark brown hair on the same bench you spent bawling your eyes out two weeks ago. He waves at you when he sees you and pulls out a paper bag that’s been on his side to sit between the two of you.

“What is this?” You ask even though you have a sneaky suspicion already.

“Stusket. Study basket. Except it’s in a bag.”

The pride in his eyes when he mentions the first word is overly adorable so you opt to pay more attention to the items inside the bag instead of that smile. The bag comes in two hot Americano, a muffin, a bundle of colored pens, energy bars and a neck pillow which surprisingly fits all that.

“I was buying one for Sooyoung but I figured I should get two. Another one for you.”

You’re a little disappointed that you’re just an add on but it’s only a given that his someone as familiar as family comes first. You don’t know when you even started caring.

“I appreciate this but are you setting me up to fail because there’s no way I can stay awake with this.” You laugh as you put on the neck pillow and note how it’s the softest suede you’ve ever touched and also the fluffiest.

He shrugs, the sleeves fitting as nicely as usual around his arms and you realize his pink lips turn into a skin-colored hue under the lamp post.

“But really, thank you.” You say and you really mean it.

He waves a hand in the air in a familiar fashion which is confirmed to be yours as he echoes the words you once said to him, “don’t mention it.”

-

“What’s that?” Namjoon eyes the bag with an arched brow, wondering how you went out with only a ringing phone in your hand and came back with a bag.

It doesn’t take much for him to know what’s in the bag and who it’s for.

“Someone gave me a stusket. Study basket. Except it’s in a bag.” You echo Jungkook’s exact words and recall the twinkle in his eyes.

“I never knew you got a boyfriend.” Namjoon emphasizes on the last word but there’s something in his tone that sounds like an insult - just because you were busy doesn’t mean you couldn’t find a potential love interest even though that is completely and 100% true. And Jungkook isn’t a boyfriend -

“He’s Sooyoung’s brother.” That somehow doesn’t sit right, “A friend.” 

Now, that doesn’t help at all and if there’s anything Kim Namjoon is good at, it’s reaffirming your words which more often than not manage to make it sound more ridiculous as you try to elaborate.

“You’re friends with your roommate’s best friend’s brother?”

This time, you really can’t say anything else because you are nowhere close to your roommate’s best friend let alone join any functions with her that would require for her brother to be there with her. But the facts are there and what are you if not friends?

“Yes.”

-

“____, my brother texted me to tell you he wants to see you.” Sooyoung bursts into your room at midnight in her yellow duckling pajamas and a sheet mask, you almost didn’t recognize her from the frequency of people walking around in sheet masks and printed pajamas if not for the mention of a certain brother.

“Why doesn’t he text me?” You check your phone, eyebrows almost knitted together at the absence of any text from him.

“There’s this thing called knocking.” Seulgi throws her alpaca plushie and Sooyoung surprisingly manages to catch it.

“I don’t know girl, but get your ass down there before one of the sis notices I’m up here in your room and not talking to my brother!” Are Sooyoung’s last words before she throws herself at Seulgi despite the latter’s desperate protest.

You slip a cardigan on before closing the door on the two girls who are starting a pillow fight on Seulgi’s bed with your pillow as Sooyoung’s weapon.

That dimpled almost has you skipping like a little girl.

You shoot him the same question you did with his sister as you gesture for him to follow you and away from the sorority. Before you get far, the hood covering part of your head pools at the back of your neck and a grinning Jungkook is standing just a few inches behind you, no doubt the culprit.

“Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”

“I just prefer to have my hood on.” 

He sees through your lies and chuckles - whether he knows the exact reason for you reluctance to be seen with the same man more than once on campus besides your usual set of friends, you’re not sure. 

Though you love the sisterhood you share between the girls of the sorority, you can’t deny that there are ears ready to eavesdrop and it’s never good when someone outside of your circle knows about anything especially if it concerns you and a boy. All this time, it’s established that you feel absolutely nothing for the male specimens that often become the talk of the house. If they knew - God help the overboard ‘support’ your sisters are more than willing to give you.

“How was your day?”

“Good.”

There’s a familiar silence that’s more comfortable than whatever it was the first time you walked him to the house. 

“I was scared to text you. You might not come.”

He says out of the blue and so out of character, you have to pause and look at him to make sure he even said anything in the first place. His gaze is already on you and you can’t help but take a moment to digest that someone as composed as Jungkook would have fears and because of you for that matter.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

This time, there’s no tricks or games. The answer might have been obvious but it isn’t for you and the corners of Jungkook’s lips curls as he nods to himself as though he’s coming to terms with himself and realizing there was nothing to be afraid of.

“I get nervous texting the girl I like.”

-

Jungkook has texted you three days later and asked you if you were free Thursday night and you have no choice but to turn him down. Not that you want to but most of your days are planned out and are subject to your timetable. Though, this type of ‘no’ hasn’t let you sit well through out the day.

If you would be a little be more honest, you daresay you want to see him.

“Why didn’t you say yes?!” Seulgi cries and you have to toss a pillow on her face to remind her to lower her voice in case anyone hears.

You thank the universe that Sooyoung likes to keep to herself which is why you get along with her even though you don’t share her passion for cute bras, cats and male phallus - a quirky combination but you’re not about to kink shame. Seulgi on the other hand knows what to say and what to keep from people’s business - the two of them together makes an unlikely friendship which if you look closer, seems just right.

“You know I’m too busy for boys.”

Seulgi throws you a look which warrants an eye roll. You already know what she’s about to say.

“He’s not a boy, he’s a man.”

You’re not going to admit the significant difference between the two categories because 1) you’re not going to give her any room for more innuendos and 2) you’re not ready to face Jungkook after nodding and responding ‘cool’ to his confession.

Then your phone vibrates.

For a solid 5 second, you and Seulgi are at a stare off before she leaps across the five feet gap between your bed and hers - and in an attempt to shield yourself from a human cannon ball, you try to roll off the bed but alas, the human crashes right into you.

You take a moment to register whether any bones have been dislocated before reaching for your phone which is too late by the way. The damage has been done and as you know it, the blue text on your part has already agreed for another day which is Saturday.

For a moment, you debated correcting your statement by telling him the truth but when his smile flashes at the back of your head, and you decide against cancelling the plan.

-

“You’re choosing a guy over finishing up a paper you need to submit two days from now.” Namjoon states in-a-matter-of-factly.

“Chill, I got like two days more.”

You almost squirm under his scrutiny because he’s the one person who’s been with you through your lowest, been your pillar of strength and sanity when you need a word of advice. The one week he wasn’t here, you almost lost your mind which was the reason you ended up breaking down at the park.

So if there’s anyone who knows you would be freaking out because the date line is nearing, it’s Kim Namjoon, your childhood friend slash study buddy who doesn’t even need to study but waved a dismissive hand at you when you told him he didn’t need to accompany you at the library till it closes almost every night.

“5 years from now, are you going to regret not going on a dinner with some guy or handing in a possibly imperfect paper which you could have perfected and bump your A to an A+ if you didn’t go to the dinner with the guy?”

The paper isn’t written yet but you’re halfway into your research and you can finish up with the important points later after dinner assuming it ends before 10 and your journey would only take about an hour or so to get back. Apparently, it’s transparent that you don’t want the dinner to end early which before you know it, you’ve already gotten the answer to Namjoon’s question.

He shakes his head and packs up his things. You thought he was disappointed at you enough to ignore your presence altogether but he looks at you again and you find yourself holding your breath.

But he doesn’t say anything and you watch as he leaves the library. In that moment, everything comes crashing in - your life plans, your college goals. None of them includes Jungkook but if his inclusion means the distraction of your goals, then, Jeon Jungkook is just an insignificant part of your life.

-

You stop in front of the diner so sure that you value your friendship with Namjoon more than a man you known within just two months. With that, you send Jungkook a text that you’re outside. He struts out in a matching navy blue tuxedo with a black button down underneath, that cute smile on full display. His eyebrows arch when he sees you in an over-sized sweater, shorts and this time, kept hair. You pride would be scarred if you showed up any less presentable than this but you’re here for one reason and that’s to properly tell him you’re not going to entertain him anymore.

“You’re here.” He comes to a stop in front of you but just when he was about to gesture for you to go inside, you speak first.

“Here is fine.”

He accepts your decision with a nod, hands pocketed as though ready for what you’re about to say.

“Did something happen along the way?”

“No, nothing happened.”

The look of relief on his face makes it harder to stand your ground. Showing up severely under dressed to a five star restaurant is already disrespectful as it is but he’s more worried that something might have happened to you that warrants you unable to don a suitable dress for a dinner.

“You must be hungry, let’s sit and talk. At least have some water.” He adds when you’re about to protest.

With the last part, you relent and the dimple smile carves its way to his lips as though your compliance is enough for him.

He places two identical orders and dismisses the other as his extra plate but it would be embarrassing to have two sets of servings for himself. When the food does come, he doesn’t even touch it. In fact, his eyes never left you as though your presence is more appealing than a medium rare steak prepared by a Michelin chef.

“How was your day?”

“Good.” You shrug.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

If the dimple wasn’t enough, you start to wonder if his eyes have always crinkled when he smiles.

“I can’t stay.”

“You never seem to be able to.”

For a split second, his lips are set in a thin line but then he smiles but it’s not the same smile you’ve been receiving until now. It’s the kind of smile that makes you want to take back your hostility and swallow your pride but you wouldn’t be you if you did that so instead you swallowed the water the waiter set aside for you.

“I have assignments to finish and exams to prepare for. I have to go.”

He stands up a second later than you, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“I’ll send you back, let me settle the bill first.”

The cosmos must have hated you from the moment since you were born and it’s all unraveling right now as you yearningly take a last look at the untouched steak and how much of a waste it was because the extra platter was just a facade because Jeon Jungkook was too nice to let you watch him eat or let you stand outside in the cold while you two talked.

“There’s really no need to send me back, I can walk. The campus is really close.”

He thwarts your last ditch attempt to leave with, “I have something to pass to Sooyoung too. My car’s in the workshop so I’ll walk with you.”

“You just said you were going to send me back which implies you have a car. So it just suddenly transferred itself to a workshop?” You eye him suspiciously and without any effort to hide it, he chuckles, head dropping.

“Yes, if you believe in magic.”

You don’t expect him to entertain questions to an obvious answer the way he always didn’t. It only adds to the feebleness of the whole situation. So you opt to walk in silence and struggle to either remain a step in front or behind from him. If he notices your diligence, he doesn’t mention it until you’re at the Weeping Willow and his fingers suddenly wrap around your wrist.

He takes a step closer and another until you’re only a hair’s breadth away. You’re staring at his eyes and he’s looking at your lips. Just before he kisses you, he pauses and meets your gaze but this time he catches your lingering stare on his lips.

“If you say no now, I’ll leave and I won’t ever show up in your life but if there’s a smidgen of chance that you’re acting like this because you’re not good with handling emotions -”

So you kiss him. 

You kiss him with all and every emotion that you have, the butterflies, the zoo, the anxiety, the fear and the excitement.

-

note: woooo so first fic after years of not writing, i’m a little rusty and i just finished this in one sitting. i have the most fun writing this, but my apologies for the errors and typos - i shamefully admit to not rereading this because i just want to quickly finish this and get it out there hahahah

credit goes to: before we get married drama (go watch, it tests your principles, and the characters all have their shortcomings which balances out the story line - but please for those who have watch the whole series don’t give spoilers i’m only on my 5th ep!)

and blackpink reference yooo :D

[halequeenjas]

New Pals || Remmy & Jasmine

TIMING: Before Remmy found out about Lydia PARTIES: @whatsin-yourhead & @halequeenjas SUMMARY: After chatting online, Jasmine invites Remmy out for some wine and jazz. 

As a self proclaimed woman of the people, Jasmine decided to make Remmy her new project. Something about the way they spoke just didn’t scream confidence and they had no reason to not be overflowing with self love from what she could discern. Surely, with a bit of her brand of uplifting, Remmy would be confident as hell in no time. It took a little coaxing, but she had convinced them to join her for an evening at her favorite lounge. It was a weeknight, so it would be pretty low key and they always did some nice smooth jazz on Wednesdays. Perfect for getting to know a new friend and for dawning the brand new burnt orange dress she got to put herself in the fall spirit. When she saw Remmy approach, she smiled brightly and greeted, “Remmy, hi!” She waved and indicated for them to join her at one of the lounge couches near the stage. “I didn’t order anything yet since I figured I’d get something we’d both enjoy. You prefer red, white, or rose?” 

Jasmine seemed like a nice woman, and Remmy had a hard time saying no. It didn’t take too much and Remmy had agreed to meet up with her, at least to have drinks. It wasn’t lost on them that it didn’t matter what they drank, but they weren’t going for that, anyway. Meeting new people was always a plus, so really, they had nothing to lose here. When they got there, they hesitated outside the doors a moment, running their should-have-been-sweaty hands down the front of the nicest pair of jeans they’d been able to find. The ones with no holes, at least. Morgan had let them borrow a nicer blouse, buttoned up to the neck, with a nice jacket over it. They almost looked normal like this. Fiddling with the zipper on the jacket, they finally went inside, hands digging deep holes into their pockets in an effort to stop the twitching. They scurried over when they saw Jasmine wave, only then taking out their hands to wave back. “H-hey!” they said, sitting quickly, “hi. S-sorry I was a little late, long walk from where I live. Um, I-- I don’t mind either way? I was never really a big wine drinker, so you can pick.” Or drinker at all, not that it mattered anymore.

It was almost endearing that Remmy seemed to have a certain hesitance about them when they spoke. Jasmine would work on that. Hell, they sure cleaned up nicely not that she really had much to go off. Compliments were a great way to boost self esteem which was part of her mission here, so she brightly said, “I love that outfit on you. That jacket really ties the whole look together. You look great!” She meant as much, it wasn’t like she was exactly great at lying when she did bother with it. She usually didn’t unless someone had asked her questions about the supernatural. It was much better to avoid being the town freak. She nodded and supposed she’d go with her favorite Hanzell Estate Pinot Noir. She flashed the waiter a wide smile as she asked for the bottle and two glasses. She decided to live a little tonight and go for the cheese platter, too. “Well, I went with a red. Even if you don’t love wine, this one is super smooth and has a bit of an oaky finish that I really enjoy.” As they waited for the wine, she opted to get to know Remmy a little bit better, “So how long have you lived here? I know we didn’t really do the whole get to know each other better chat online, but I much prefer these kinds of talk in person anyway.” 

“Oh, it’s, I--” Remmy stuttered. If they could flush, they would have, but zombie anatomy saved them the embarrassment of that this time. Clearing their throat, they smoother their hands down the front of their jeans and looked over at Jasmine. “Sounds perfect!” they said when she told them about the wine, though they really had no idea what any of that meant. Not that it mattered, they wouldn’t be able to taste it anyway. Their face fell at the thought-- they didn’t like lying to people, especially someone as nice as Jasmine. But would she even believe them if they tried to tell her? Swallowing, they tried to smile back over at her. “Here? Oh, um...almost a year. I moved here around November last year for a job. What, um, what about you?” A small nod. “No, yeah-- I, uh-- I prefer in person, too. It feels, you know...more real? N-not that online stuff isn’t real! I just mean like, it feels more-- nice? Like, it’s easier to read people in person and stuff. See their face and reactions.” 

As sweet as it was, Jasmine mentally noted they’d need to work on Remmy’s ability to accept a compliment. Maybe they just didn’t receive enough of them and needed to be a little desensitized. She supposed she’d have to figure it out over time. That was how this sort of thing usually worked. They seemed far more easy going than she was and was happy with whatever wine she ordered. When it came to wine, Jasmine always had an opinion. Actually, that was true of most things. “Perfect, well, this one is nice and one of my favorites.” There was something nicer about in person interactions. She’d always been what one would call a social butterfly and she loved the energy of being around people. “Oh, I totally agree! In person is way better. I get what you mean, you get a better feel for people in person and I for one, love hanging out with people.” Her smile was wide and bright as the wine arrived. With both their glasses poured, she raised hers up for a toast. “Cheers to new friends.” They were still getting to know each other, but she had the feeling she’d like Remmy. “So, tell me a little bit about yourself. Where’d you grow up? What do you love to do in your free time?” 

“If it’s one of your favorites, it’s probably good, then,” Remmy agreed with a smile. And while they’d never be able to taste the difference, they were sure the statement was true. Jasmine had an energy about her that made Remmy believe everything she said, and feel, perhaps, just a little bit lighter from her words. “Yeah, me too. I’ve always been social, even if I was a little uh-- nervous or awkward. I just...like people, I guess,” the agreed, rubbing the back of their head as if slightly embarrassed by the admission. When the drinks came, they took their glass gratefully and raised it up to Jasmine’s. “To new friends,” they agreed with an easy smile. Took a sip before setting it down. The wine made their tongue feel dry, but it was tasteless, just like everything else. “Uh, well-- I grew up in Rock Springs, Wyoming. It’s a small town than this, if you can believe it. Just a few hours outside of Cheynne. And mostly I um...just like making things. I uh, really like tinkering with mechanical stuff. And mechanical design. What um-- what about you?”

They may have only just met, but Jasmine smiled that Remmy could already tell she had good taste. It was something she prided herself on and she liked that it was apparent. Looking at her wardrobe alone was typically enough to indicate good taste. It was nice that Remmy was able to see this in her. She swirled her wine around her glass and looked to them. “Oh, I totally understand that,” she said with a waving hand motion as her hand fell back to her lap, “I’ve always loved being social, too. I don’t see anything wrong with nerves or feeling awkward, hell, even I feel awkward sometimes. It’s nice that you like people. More people could use that sort of energy in their life and be nicer if you ask me.” The subtle differences in their body languages really highlighted their differing levels of confidence. Where Remmy rubbed the back of their neck, Jasmine sat tall with one hand comfortably at her side and another holding her wine glass. It was cute in its own way, but she wanted her new friend to feel comfortable in her presence. They’d get there. She listened as Remmy spoke, leaning forward to indicate her interest in what Remmy had to say. “Wyoming, huh? I’ve never been myself. I grew up here. Mechanical stuff? You must be smart then. That kind of stuff goes over my head. I tend to enjoy interior design as far as productive hobbies go. Makes for nicely staged homes for real estate purposes, too. Outside of that I enjoy fashion, fine dining, and wine a lot. Any form of pampering is also nice.” 

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Remmy grinned with a soft chuckle. They weren’t always the most observative, but they could tell Jasmine’s genuine interest in the things they were saying, and it helped them relax a bit more. Leaning forward as well, hands tight in their lap still, they gave a shrug. “It’s uh-- not that worth visiting. At least, not where I grew up. Lotta people like to go there to see Yellowstone, cause that’s really all there is there.” They smiled again, taking another sip of the wine. They wondered what it actually tasted like. “And uh, yeah. Mechanical stuff. I um-- really wanna design airplanes. I don’t know why, I just think they’re...so cool, you know? That someone actually figured out how to make something fly. I wanna do that, too.” They listened to Jasmine’s descriptions of what she liked and found them at almost opposite ends of the spectrum, and yet, they felt as if they already liked her enough to take interest in them. “Real estate? Do you work in that field? I don’t know much about any of that at all. Hell, I don't think I’ve ever even been to a spa or fine dining place…”

It was good to see that Remmy seemed to be relaxing a bit around her. Jasmine prided herself on being a natural social butterfly who could turn any social situation into a positive one and she believed it was working well with Remmy. They seemed to be enjoying themselves which was important. “I’ll admit, Yellowstone doesn’t sound quite like my normal vacation destinations. I’m not too big on the great outdoors. I like a nice view as much as anyone else, but prefer it from like a deck or rooftop or something.” The thought of not being able to wear her best pair of Louboutins on vacation was simply atrocious and she doubted she’d ever make it  to Wyoming. She listened intently as Remmy spoke of mechanical engineering. It was all a little over her head, but she enjoyed flying and people needed to make said planes work. She took another sip of her wine before nodding along. “Huh, that’s pretty cool. Totally way over my head, but I do love airplanes… more from like the business class perspective, but still love them. Is this something you’re going to school for? I’ve heard pretty good things about UMWC.” Pursuing interests was definitely something that gave people purpose and confidence. Jasmine was almost positive it would help them and lead to a very fulfilled life for them. So she’d encourage it and pull some strings where she could. She smiled brightly and answered them, “Yes, I work in real estate. Best realtor in town depending on who you’re asking. I’ve been working in the field since I was 19, so I know the town and my stuff. If you’re ever looking for a home, I’m your girl. Wait, you’ve never been to a spa or had fine dining? We’re so changing that. I have to take you to The Artesian!” 

“That’s fair,” Remmy nodded, giving a short smile, “it’s not for everyone. I don’t mind the outdoors, it always felt comforting, you know? Not as much noise. I never really did good with...crowds.” They looked around before settling back on Jasmine, listening to her talk. “Oh, yeah, it’s um-- I did send in an application, but I’m not sure if I made it in yet. I think they send out letters in late October, though,” they answered, a bit shyly. “We’ll see if I get in.” They fussed with the stem of the glass, tracing the bottom rim of it. “Real estate is a cool job, I’ve heard. I definitely could never be a realtor, though. I’m really bad at talking to people and convincing them to do stuff. Or, you know...drop hundreds of thousands of dollars on a house. But, uh-- thanks, but I’ve got a really nice place right now with someone. Well...I live with her. She’s a good woman.” They said, smiling fondly at the thought of Lydia and the home they’d made together. “What? Oh-- oh, n-no, that’s okay! You don’t have to do that for me! R-really. I just...it’s just not ever something I’ve done, but it’s fine, really!”

“Less noise, but more bugs… which really really aren’t my thing,” Jasmine said with a laugh, “But I get liking the quiet. I just prefer my quiet in a hot bath with a glass of wine and a good book.” She missed the days when said books were trashy romance novels and not books on ghosts, ancient languages, or other equally as terrifying crap. All of which was necessary if she wanted to live to see another bubble bath that allowed her some more leisurely reading time. Her face lit up with excitement as Remmy mentioned they had recently put in an application at the University. “That’s amazing,” she exclaimed happily, “I, for one, am totally rooting for you and think a toast for good luck is basically required.” She lifted her glass again. “To following your dreams!” There was nothing she loved more than a good toast. She was mentally already preparing a toast for Remmy’s inevitable graduation. Somehow Remmy was going after this big brain-y ambition and they were praising her work. She laughed a bit and said, “And I could never successfully tinker with things. I pay people to do that. Everyone has their thing. Yours just happens to be more brains than charm. Real estate is more about finding people who are looking for homes or selling their homes and steering them in the right direction. Clearly, the right direction is me because I know my stuff and I’m a great sales woman. I am glad to hear your living situation is great.” It was easy to smile as she leaned back into her seat and watched as Remmy spoke. “I know I don’t have to. I just want to. You seem like a good person and I like being good to good people.” 

“Oh, see, there’s like...zero bugs in Wyoming. It gets to cold for most of them most of the year,” Remmy said with a little sideways grin. “Even up in Yellowstone.” They would have blushed were they able to when Jasmine exclaimed her excitement for them. They barely knew each other, but she was so genuinely happy. It was nice to meet someone like this again. Remmy felt like they’d just been running into shit person after shit person lately, letting them take advantage of their kindness, their heart. But Jasmine felt light and happy. They grinned, clinking glasses. “Th-thanks. I um...I’ve always liked tinkering with things like that. And like, drawing them out. It took me a bit to figure out I could really do something with it, though. A lot of my friends here have sort of um...encouraged me to find my path.” They rubbed their hands together between their legs again. “It’s, um...I mean, really...I-I don’t really know how to like...accept that. Just for, nothing. So, really, it’s okay! You don’t have to.

“You know, that I can actually be down with. Except for maybe the too cold part. As cute as my winter clothes are, I’m definitely more of a summer girl,” Jasmine said enthusiastically, “Although hot tubs in the winter paired with some bubbly are a great time.” There was something about Remmy that Jasmine found intriguing. They were about as different as two people could be and lived in almost entirely different worlds outside the fact they were both in the crazy town that was White Crest. Still, there was a certain genuine nature that Remmy possessed and she found she enjoyed it. It was different from her own brand of blunt honesty, but was still refreshing. It made her that much more inclined to be supportive of their dream. “Everyone figures out things in their own time. It’s great that you’re going after what you love. I, for one, am very eager to see where it gets you and am glad you have encouragement.” It went a long way. Without her aunt, she wasn’t sure she would have ever found her path after disconnecting with her parents. Their body language still seemed a bit nervous so she opted to tone down the enthusiasm just a bit. Instead, she shrugged lightly and said, “Well, if you say so. I’d still like to hang out again some time. Your pick next time.” Hopefully it wouldn’t involve anything too strenuous like hiking though her hiking outfit was pretty adorable. Either way, Jasmine was happy to make a new friend who was seemingly normal and good in a town that was anything but.

[saundraswriting]

S.C. Books Chapter 2

Summary: Eren and Levi spend more time together. Levi begins to see what Hange meant the other day about the shitty hand Eren had been dealt. Eren gets overwhelmed and heads to his comfort place.

Warnings: A graphic depiction of a nightmare and panic attacks

Notes: Hey guys! I hope you still are enjoying this fic. I am trying my best, and I hope that is enough. I have a very rough outline that I am not staying with so this is kinda rough and on the fly! This story references my high school career which ended in 2013 and my college career which ended in 2014.

Read on Ao3

Previous // Next // Series Masterlist

Anime Masterlist // My Ao3 //

Eren took detailed notes as the professor lectured on large muscle groups. The class only had 5 hours a week for roughly 12 weeks to go over all the semester's information. The human anatomy and physiology 1 class was often broken into a lecture and lab portion, roughly two hours long. The discussion today was muscle groups and tendons and ligaments. The class moved quickly, causing Eren to over do his notes and readings to prevent confusion. It helped a bit that he had some art background, he knew groupings, and that he dad (was)is a doctor. Eren knew that even though he was taking good notes and paying attention he wasn't retaining a sliver of information. It was too much too fast but that is why for this class he blocked off extras study hours.

"Okay. That is enough for now. Let's take a quick 15. We still have a lab I want to get through. and it can be a doozy." Professor Nanaba clapped to get everyone's attention and the relief was palpable. Eren and a few others decided a short walk wouldn't be amiss. The science hall was quiet this late at night. There were a couple offices with lights on but not much else. Eren was walking on the second floor while reading and noting his two short stories for the next essay for his English class. The 15 minutes of literature and scrawled first impressions helped shake his mind of the fog that had been creeping in since the beginning of his A&P class.

The lab portion was helpful in reaffirming his knowledge of the muscular and skeletal systems of a human. His art background helped a bit too, he was able to make detailed drawings in his notes. When the lab was finished a short test was given, Eren loved and hated only have one class a week for this subject. It was the advanced class for a reason, meaning the pretty much did a speed-run of a week's worth of learning in a handful of short hours. The pace forced him to pay attention but anxiety sometimes caused him to fixate on the subject leading him to crunch other classes.

Once released Eren headed to the home he shared with Armin and Mikasa. The three of them had pitched together money from each of their inheritances from passed relatives-Armin from a wealthy grandfather and Mikasa and Eren from their parents-to buy a small cheap house not to far from the university. It wasn't anything special, came mostly furnished and they were able to thrift for the rest. It was home and that was enough. All three of them had more than enough to live on, especially with school being completely covered by scholarships, but they had decided in their junior year that life would be better together and better in the future. So they made do now to prepare for a better tomorrow. Eren walked the familiar route home, trying to remember if he had anything to do before getting to bed. He had gotten a lot done at the shop that day, Levi's small unprecedented visit helping a lot with his productivity.

Eren got home and quietly came through the door, trying to minimize any noise he made. 'Why did he pick today of all days to sit with me? What made today special?'Eren thought. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to relax the scrunch he knew he was making. 'Maybe he wanted to be nice? Maybe it was a trick? No, he seemed to genuine to be messing with me. He doesn't often work the counter, maybe he was just checking on me?'Eren thought. A tidbit of the conversation he had with Hange crept into his thoughts. '"I will say, I haven't seen him sit down and enjoy a conversation like today in a very long time. So treasure the fact that you are important to Levi Ackerman, for that is no small feat."' Eren blinked at his reflection in the mirror, shaking his head. There was no way, Levi Ackerman was interested in him. Levi was so smart and witty and intriguing. Eren was a bratty child who lost both his parents in a fit of mental anguish and is only getting by. Eren finished getting ready for bed, feeling uneasy about the direction of his thoughts. He knew he needed to sleep, he hadn't slept well the last few days. He couldn't do it again. Tomorrow was at least a shorter day. He had class solid from 11 to 4 then he was done. Maybe he could sleep in a bit and try to forget that Levi even look twice at him.

Eren didn't remember his dreams, on the days he dreamed that is. Other days he would wake with a burning throat and the sensation of viscous liquid creeping over him, the brownish red color of dried blood all he could see, screams ringing in his ears. Those days he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, the fear and anxiety and guilt forcing him to stay awake and try to not break down. He would sit counting his fingers and breaths for what seemed hours, hands gripping his hair, trying to resist pulling, sometimes he spent the early dawn hours in his and Armin's shared bathroom the shower too hot or too cold or hugging the toilet in-between vomiting episodes. He would sit silently, pushing it deeper and deeper down, until the acid in his stomach could dissolve it into nothingness. The was no trigger that he could find that set of the nightmares, he refused to tell anyone about them or the following panic attacks. He just waved off the rough nights as insomnia and stress from school. Eren knew he wasn't fooling many of his friends, if any, but he knew it was more trouble explaining it then it was worth. Today he was Lucky, he woke up in his bed to his alarm, violently. He was covered in sweat and was shaking, tears on his cheeks and throat sore. It wasn't a good night but Eren had worse ones.

The house empty, typical for a Thursday. Eren went down the stairs to see a message on the board about taking out the garbage, his class last night and breakfast being in the microwave. Eren puttered around the house, doing chores and eating his breakfast and getting ready for class. When it was time to leave Eren made sure he had all of his stuff and headed off to his classes.

He spent the hours he had in class diligently taking notes and meticulously planning his due dates. He didn't have the luxury of slacking for a second, if he missed one thing, he would be scrambling to catch up. He was in his last class of the day, his mind drifting to thoughts of S.C. Books and the hot owner. He was trying to just get through until he could get off campus, the panic attack he had in the morning was lingering in his trembling fingers and jumpiness. He just had to get through his last class. Eren's reputation in his friend group was the hot head that liked to pile on the pressure. He was smart and hard working but didn't know when to quit. He had a tendency to snap on a hair trigger and not much brought him back down. Most of his friends from high school went to Trost on scholarships, a few making the 50% cut instead of the 100%.

Class had just let out, he was the first to the door, blowing off everyone's calls to slow down or watch it, he didn't even snark back at Jean's remark for running into him. He was on a mission, it looked like a million ghosts were on his tail. Jean was known for priming Eren's trigger out of a sick sense of friendship, he seemed to be able to tell when Eren needed to blow off some steam, but he had never seen him look like that. 'Something is up with the dumbass, and I want to know.' Jean sent a text to his boyfriend Marco and made to follow Eren. He only got as far as the quad before he lost him in the crowd so he made his way to his next class.

Eren had blanked as soon as class was dismissed. He needed a quiet place. He couldn't go home Armin and Mikasa would only hover and make him feel worse. Campus was too noisy, he didn't want to risk anyone finding him. There was only one place to go, He could practically smell the tea and coffee and see Levi standing in front of him, small and compact and worried.

"Hey, brat. You okay? You look terrible." Levi's voice cut through the beginnings of him panic. Eren blinked. He was at S.C. Books, he had ran all the way there.

"Levi? How-When. I. What?" Eren could only gasp and stutter. He could feel his focus and awareness fading and brightening as he stood there. He looked around and saw people staring at him, causing him to shake more.

"You two good? I'll handle the brat." Levi didn't look away from Eren who was obviously not fully there. He came around the corner, slow and careful, it set Eren's teeth on edge.

"I am not made of glass. I am fine. Just give me a minute." He snapped. He took a couple deep breaths but could still felt like he was forgetting something.

"Okay. You're fine. That is why you came racing in here like the hounds of Baskerville were on your tail and also why you look like you are a million miles away, cause you're fine." Levi said. He took a few more steps closer. "I don't know what is wrong, but I want to help. You come in here looking like this or like the weight of the world is on your shoulders too much. I want to help you. What do you need?" Levi asked him quietly. The shop was slowly losing interest in their going-ons. Eren relaxed more they stopped paying attention.

"I'm fine. I had a bad dream this morning and it lingered. I got through class and just needed to come here. Sorry for making you worry." Eren rubbed the back of his head embarrassed.

Levi looked at Eren, lightly shaking, eyes glassy and unable to focus, breathing a little too fast, complexion just a shade too pale. 'This kid. He needs someone to take care of him.' Levi sighed, eyeing the way he slouched and curled in on himself trying to be smaller. ' I want to be the one to do it.' He blinked and shook that idea out of his head. "You table is open. If you want to sit down. I can join you if you like. If not, we can sit in my office for a bit. You look like you could use the space." Levi felt his eyebrows furrow. 'The fuck? I never let anyone in my office. What am I thinking' Levi looked at Eren for an answer.

"I would like to say your office, but your face is begging me to refuse that option. I very much appreciate the offer though. I do. I think I'll sit down for a bit and study. Maybe that will help soothe my nerves." Eren shuffled his bag a bit, seeming to hesitate. "Think you could join me? I could use the quiet company." Eren looked shy, like he expected to get rejected.

"Yeah. We can do that. Give me a minute. I'll get us some tea. and a few pastries, you could use with a little more weight on your bones." Levi nodded his head to Eren's usual table. Eren nodded a few times too many, still not completely aware. He flashed a shaky smile at the employees working, Petra and Molbit. Eren sunk down ungracefully into his chair, trying to ignore the gazes of the other patrons, he could feel them on his skin causing his breath to hitch. He began running his hand over the scar on his arm, up and down trying to use the motion to soothe himself.

"Eren, you with me, brat?" Levi asked from several steps away. He knew the kid was not having a good day and did not want to be what made it worse.

Eren looked up, eyes wide and shining, he looked a mix of grateful and pleased that Levi came back. He didn't even look at the two plates and mugs Levi was carrying until he placed them on the table and Levi wasn't sure what to make of that expression that was for him and only him. "Levi, thank you. I am sorry I caused such trouble. I have been coming here for a while, it was the only placed I could think of. I have been dealing with this just fine until now, so I don't know why all of a sudden, it was too much." Eren said, Levi could hear the confusion and frustration in his voice.

"Eren, I am honored that you think of my shop as a safe space. That means a lot. Now, why don't you eat and drink your tea. You need to take a breather and then we can crack open your books or we can talk for a while. How does that sound?" Levi nudged the plates and the tea he had the other day closer. Levi pulled out an iPad and continued working on some orders that he needed to finalize before the end of day. Levi looked over the top of his iPad to see Eren fire off one quick text and then turn his phone off.

Eren cradled the mug like it was the only source of warmth he ever had, it did help ease the trembling in his hands. Eren did as asked, sat silent and still, letting the tension drip off of him like water. After he cleaned his hands-with a small smirk to Levi who pretended to be distracted-Eren broke a few pastries in half, nibbling on some here or there. 'Can't this kid just accept the handouts, like why does he have to share?' Levi wondered.

A few more minutes and Eren looked less like he was going to pass out or be sick, so Levi decided it was time to move on. "Brat, you done?"" After Eren nodded he took away the dishes, paying no attention to his employees. "Do you want to talk or work?" Levi asked. He was fine with either one but couldn't deny he wanted to hear what spooked Eren.

"I have a tendency to panic or freak out when I am struggling, I can even be completely apathetic. Sometimes, I can't sleep. Some days it takes everything I have in me to breathe and some days I am fine. I have gotten better with learning coping skills and keeping busy is a big help but so has finding a place that hasn't been touched by the things that make my bad days even worse. Some times, school or home or my friends or my sister is enough to make a day turn sour. That isn't helped by my nightmares that lead into panic attacks at any given time of the night. Last night was more of the same, and when I got to school it was a little more then I could bear and soon I found myself sprinting to the only place I knew could make me feel better." Eren said. He spoke matter-of-factly, not wanting to Levi to think he was whining over his situation. Eren had come to accept that his life was better than some but not as good as others, but he was surviving. Levi's lack of response made it easier to talk.

"I think one of my friends tried to follow me here, they all worry over my mood swings and weight fluctuations. I don't have it in me to explain everything. I can barely gather the nerve to tell you this much. You've been so good to me for so long, letting me stay late or come in early. You treat me so kindly and don't badger me even though I know you and the others here are concerned. I really can't thank you enough. I don't know if I would be here without you Levi. So many days I have come in here, ready to end it all and then you call me a brat or make your not-jokes with the others and I am reminded all over again that I have everything to lose if I give up now." Eren reached over pinching Levi's sleeve between two fingers. He waited until Levi looked up, eyes shining wetly. "Levi, thank you so much. You are very important to me."

Levi let out the breath he had been holding the entire time Eren was speaking, his whole body softening. Levi hadn't softened for anyone in years, people pissed him off with their selfishness, and germs, and rudeness, and lack of gratitude. But here was this brat of a kid, trying to thank Levi for things he did all the time unconsciously. He could feel the warmth of Eren's gaze and appreciation fill him like the sun. "You're pretty important to me too, brat. Not many people just go along with my shitty humor or terrible honesty or overwhelming idiosyncrasies. I could thank you too. You don't remind me what to live for per se but that it is okay to live." Levi said. Eren blinked at him in surprise, mouth gaping. "Anyway, let's move on. You had class today, and you were pretty checked out earlier, why not get to work. Pick something light and go from there. I'll stick around for a bit. The quiet will do you some good." Levi suggested.

"Yeah. You're right. Today was practically useless, I can't afford to get behind." Eren pulled out his planner, muttering under his breath as he looked through it. Levi settled down in his seat, to wait out the kid who had been dealt a shitty hand. And if sometimes while he was working Levi took exaggerated breaths to help Eren pace his or Eren lightly pressed his fingers to Levi's wrist to measure his pulse, no one was around to comment on it.

[windmilltothestars]

Another (less) short piece for @mynameisremyiamadumbass - who suggested the other day be “Grantaire Appreciation Day” - right before I had to my tutoring job.  I thought of this idea WHILE I was tutoring, when I supposed to be thinking of eighth grade math!!  Anyway, it ended up being more of ensemble piece, and (of course) longer than planned, but Grantaire does get appreciated!  Enjoy a very ridiculous story, my friend!

-

Combeferre, Feuilly and Enjolras were all hunched over the table in the back room of the Café Musain, in serious consultation of the wording of their latest manifesto to be taken to the printers’.  Enjolras was grinning faintly – out all of his friends, these two were the least likely to let women or booze or even artistic excitement or personal problems interfere with their focus on the cause, and today’s progress had been swift and efficient.  

Suddenly, the thudding of urgent, ungainly footsteps approached, and they all tensed and raised their eyes to the door in anticipation.  The sound had been so loud and forceful that they were all surprised when it was Jehan who appeared in the doorway, pale-faced, clinging to the doorframe, and gasping for breath.

“Jehan?  What is it?” wondered Feuilly, approaching him in concern.

“I was – just – talking to –” Jehan panted, leaning over and bracing his hands on his knees.

“Catch your breath first,” Combeferre advised, laying a calming hand on his shoulder.  Jehan nodded vaguely and held them all in suspense as he inhaled.

“To an inspector!” he said at last, straightening up.  “He seemed – suspicious – heard some rumor!  He was asking – questions – about our organization – ‘What is the aim and purpose of the Friends of the ABC?’  I told him – we teach poor children – teach them to read!  ABCs, you know!  Then he asked – where?  Where we met – and did our teaching!  And – I – I panicked, I thought – I’d better not say here – so I said – the Café Corinthe!  And he’s going there – now!  And I’m – I’m sorry,” his contrite eyes were more on Enjolras than the others, “I didn’t know what to say – I panicked.”

They all glanced at each other anxiously.

“Is anyone there now?” Combeferre wondered.

“It’s too late for breakfast –”

“They might all be in class –”

“Though it’s possible – Bahorel or Grantaire –”

“But if he questions the staff, poor old Mère Hucheloup – might not know what to say,” Feuilly concluded uneasily.

“I’m sorry,” Jehan repeated, ducking his eyes.

“It’s alright,” Enjolras told him firmly, “you did nothing wrong.  We’ve just got to go there now – and pray God we can get him off the scent.”

This was all the incentive they needed to be on their way.  They even sprung for a carriage ride just to get them there faster and stand a better chance of catching the inspector and minimizing the possible damage to their cause – not to mention their lives.

With terror hammering in each of their hearts to varying degrees, the four of them poured through the door and came upon a surprising sight.

Grantaire, fists raised in front of his face, was mock-sparring – the blows connecting but ever-so-lightly – with a scrawny, ragged young boy who sometimes delivered messages for them, whilst the inspector, tall, imposing, and in full uniform, stood to the side and watched the proceedings with a puzzled expression.  There was a faint blush to Grantaire’s cheeks that someone who didn’t know him might have taken for exertion or embarrassment, but he seemed, on the whole, but minimally impaired; he had the presence of mind to subtly roll his hastily-hidden wine bottle further behind the counter with his foot as he passed. He allowed the boy to get a good mock-hit on face, before tumbling dramatically to the floor in response as the boy cheered his victory, and then straightening up and smiling pleasantly to the inspector.

“So you see,” he panted, “how he’s improving in his self-defense lessons!  Now, I may be biased, Monsieur Inspector, but to my mind, self-defense is one of the most important skills for our students to learn!  Though the others –” his eyes turned upon his four friends at last, and his grin widened – “are sure to correct me!  Monsieur, might I introduce our afternoon teachers?”

The inspector turned to look at the four of them.  Combeferre faintly raised a hand in greeting, and Grantaire therefore honed in on him as the calmest and most ready to convincingly play his part.

“This is Monsieur Combeferre,” he said, indicating him.  “He teaches anatomy and other sciences.  Fantastically gruesome stuff! Talking for hours about blood and bones!”

“Pleased to meet you, sir,” Combeferre greeted the inspector, shaking his hand.  He turned pleasantly to the raggedy boy. “Can you tell the inspector what you call the bones in your fingers?”

“Knuckles!” the boy shot back.

“He prefers boxing to science,” Combeferre informed the inspector ruefully.  “We’re working on it.  Though it’s a testament to my honored colleague Monsieur Grantaire’s skill, I’m sure.  He also teaches art.”

“Art and science?” the inspector wondered, tilting his head.  “And self-defense?  I was given to believe you were teaching them to read!”

“We here of the Friends of ABC believe in a balanced education,” Feuilly put in.  He, too, held out his hand to shake the inspector’s. “In started with just literacy, but we’ve since expanded our aims.  I’m Monsieur Feuilly; I teach woodworking and handicrafts.  And here, you’ve met Monsieur Prouvaire.  He helps our advanced readers to reach a higher understanding of literature and poetry; sometimes they write their own!”

“And he teaches the Bible in Hebrew and Greek!  Quite a polymath, our Monsieur Prouvaire,” Grantaire added fondly, causing Jehan to hastily withdraw the hand he was extending to the inspector and use it to quickly hide his furiously-blushing face.

“And this,” Grantaire went on as his eyes fell with their regular glowing admiration on Enjolras, who had been standing like a statue watching the proceedings, “is the chief and foundation of our whole enterprise, Monsieur Enjolras!”

Enjolras gave him a slight nod and shook his hand mechanically, but said nothing.

“And – what do you teach, Monsieur Enjolras?” the inspector asked, his expression unreadable.

“History,” he replied swiftly.  “French history – especially of the last century – is my specialty, and quite enough to fill a whole course, I daresay, but Monsieur Feuilly has persuaded me to expand the area of study across centuries and continents – to have a more whole and complete picture of the world.”

“The way he tells those stories,” Jehan put in shyly, “why, he puts you there, in the shoes one living in that moment!  To listen to them is to be enthralled by some fey creature!  His is the magic to transport one across time and space!”

“I can see why he teaches poetry,” the inspector muttered.

“Monsieur Prouvaire is right,” the boy added suddenly, dashing over to Enjolras and clinging to his leg.  “Monsieur Enjolras’s stories are amazing!  His class is my favorite – after boxing, of course!”  Enjolras awkwardly patted the boy’s shoulder.

“It’s true,” added Mère Hucheloup, ducking her head out of the kitchen, “Even I get distracted in my serving by dear Monsieur Enjolras’s history lessons!”

The boy faced down the inspector and continued. “I was one of the first students to learn with the Friends the ABC!  Back when it was just Monsiers Enjolras and Combeferre teaching reading!  Monsieur Enjolras taught me my ABCs – right at that table over there!”

There was a silence as they all gazed intently at the inspector’s impassive face – even Mère Hucheloup had paused in laying out oysters – and collectively willed him to believe their elaborate castle of lies and half-truths.  He gazed from face to face and seemed to be reading for nerves or lies in each of them.  They each internally trembled for Jehan’s exceptionally timid manners and propensity for blushing.  But his inner valor upheld him, and his face stayed pale, and he did not duck his eyes.

At last, the inspector completed his sweep, he gave a soft breath of satisfaction, and slightly smiled. Five pairs of tensed shoulders relaxed.

“Is there anything else, Inspector?” Combeferre said.  “Only our afternoon students will be arriving in twenty minutes, and we really must prepare!”

“And the sort of children we teach,” Feuilly made bold to add, “are sometimes afraid of the police! They might not show up today if they see you here!”

“Er – yes, alright,” the inspector agreed awkwardly.  “I’ll be going, and I’ll tell them at the precinct that we’ve nothing to fear from the Friends of the ABC, that they’re but a lot of harmless dreamers – who in my opinion,” he added, casting a dubious glance at the ragged boy now holding Enjolras’s hand, “are wasting considerable talent on this sort of riffraff!”

Enjolras’s outrage at this comment managed to confine itself to tightening his grip on the boy’s hand and clenching his fist; but Feuilly’s expression darkened dangerously.

“Now, see here, Inspector,” he said, stepping up two paces closer to the man. “To educate is to deliver a soul out of darkness, and to offer a chance at a life of use and light and joy and purpose!  Do you say we should condemn every poor man’s child to darkness?  Dismiss this whole class of people, as not worth consideration?”

“It is our philosophy,” Combeferre added, “that education – the illumination of all minds into greater truth and understanding – will bring light and progress to all the peoples of the world; thus, starting in childhood, and not excluding any class of child, is vital for the progress of the human race.”

The inspector gave a sort of snort, his mouth upturned in a somewhat derisive smile.  “What did I say?” he shrugged, “Dreamers!  Harmless dreamers!”  And without another word, he turned on his heel and left the café.

Jehan immediately sunk down into a chair.  The urchin ran to window and stuck his tongue out at the inspector’s departing back. Combeferre and Enjolras confined themselves to sighs of relief.  Grantaire, also sitting, said, “I need a drink.”

“You and me both, brother,” Feuilly said fervently, clapping him on the back and going to pick up his hidden wine bottle.  “I think perhaps we all do. Mère Hucheloup, some more cups, if you please!”

“Do you know,” Combeferre said softly to Enjolras as they watched Feuilly accepting the cups and pouring out the wine, “I rather liked the idea – all of us as teachers!  Molding young minds!  I had myself half-convinced!”

“In the new world – in the Republic,” Enjolras promised him, “that will be the way.  When that day comes, I freely pass my torch to you – in your hands, the light of illumination!”

Jehan, during this exchange, had risen to his feet and gone to the window to join the boy.  “You saved us,” he told him earnestly. “The Friends of the ABC will forever be in your debt!  Here,” he added, reaching into his pocket and handing the boy an entire five-franc coin, “get yourself something nice!”  The boy excitedly rushed to the counter to buy himself a pastry.

“And he’s not the only who saved us!” Feuilly added as he passed the cups into each of their hands. “Without Grantaire’s being here, his quick thinking and adaptability, we’d be lost!”

“Certainly, we would!” agreed Jehan, smiling warmly at him.

“Oh – oh, really,” Grantaire dismissed, ducking his own head and trying not to look too pleased by this praise, “it was nothing, my friends – nothing, really!”

“It was far from nothing,” Feuilly assured him heartily.  “Gentlemen, let’s raise our glasses – to Grantaire!”

“To Grantaire!” they all echoed, smiling at him.

Grantaire’s face was rather blank as he observed his friends – it was, like the inspector’s scanning over each one as if to ascertain this was real.  As they knew it would, it settled last of all on the fair countenance of Enjolras, a desperate question in his eyes.  To reassure him, Enjolras raised his glass a fraction of an inch again, widened his smile gave him a little nod. At last, Grantaire’s face relaxed and reflected his smile, and they all drank deep.

Next second, Bahorel burst into the shop, greeting them with a shout of, “Afternoon, my friends! ARE WE ALL READY TO SMASH THE GOVERNMENT?!?”

Jehan choked on his wine, and fell out of his chair.

[dance-with-sum1]

Mayhem Go Round | Nessa & Nadia

TIMING & LOCATION: The Carnival

PARTIES: @humanmoodring & @dance-with-sum1

SUMMARY: The Not-So-Merry Go Round throws some people around.

TW: None

Nessa just found the Carnival so darn intoxicating! She was usually drawn to places of excitement and reverie, but this was something else! The mimes, though a bit unsettling at first, were a blast. The ferris wheel, you could ride it forever! Not to mention the food and the games! She wondered how many of White Crest’s citizens knew who they were really playing games with, but honestly, she didn’t really care. What the squishers didn’t know would only benefit the fae running the booths. Twirling a bit and inhaling the sweet scent of fatty fried foods, Nessa pondered where to go next.

“You’re up, little lady!” A booming voice rang out behind her and a pair or rough hands pushed her up the small, metal stairs. “W-what? Oh! No, I’m not in line-” Nessa’s eyes went wide when she realized she’d inadvertently entered the line for the Merry Go Round, probably the only ride in the entire place she’d steered clear of. Hooves. Way too many hooves. But they were just plastic! It was fine, she told herself as she shuffled over next to a dark haired woman. “You er- you’d think there would be an age limit for these guys, right?” She chuckled nervously, an out of place look of apprehension written plainly across her face.

The carnival, Nadia had decided, would be a damn good place to do a bit of pickpocketing. Crowds of people were always bumping into each other, getting jostled, and, damn it all, sometimes people just lost their wallets in the process. Really, if she thought about it long enough, Nadia was doing them a favor. These people were just going to waste their money on some cheap carnival ride. They were gonna lose it anyway; she was just making sure the money went towards something worthwhile, like new motorcycle parts or bullets or fine liquor. She’d picked two hundred dollars in cash, three credit cards, and five relatively nice wallets in the few hours she’d been at the carnival. The last time she’d been in a place like this had been in Texas about three years ago, so she bought some cotton candy for old times’ sake. Somehow, as she was walking around, she ended up in line for the Merry Go Round. Not her first choice; she liked thrill rides, things that got her blood pumping. But she was in line, so she figured she might as well stick around. The woman maneuvering beside her, her apprehension both visible on her face and coming off her in waves, didn’t startle Nadia too much, and she smiled at the question. “You’d think,” she said, taking a bite of the cotton candy. “This is kind of kids stuff, but maybe it’s a slow day for the carousel. Looks like we’re the only two people they managed to rope in for a while.” One of the workers motioned them forward.

Nessa took a cautious step forward towards one of the less menacing looking mounts, a small purple donkey. Donkeys were at least a tiny but smaller than horses, but just as strong and just as terrifying. She wondered how humans let their children ride these things without fear, but that was only one of the many mysteries of the squishers. “Yeah! Hah! I guess we get the thing to ourselves!” Yayyyy, she thought. At least only one person would be witness to her sour mood. “I bet it’s a short ride anyway. Kids don’t like sitting in one place for long, right?” Speaking more to herself than the other woman, Nessa clenched her teeth and swung a leg over, settling herself into the saddle. “Sorry you got roped into this with me, but it’s nice to have a riding partner!” Nessa hoped her small joke didn’t fall too flat. Oi, was she out of her element.

Oh. Fuck. Nadia didn’t realize she was supposed to actually get on one of the fake animals. Where were the little seats for parents that these things were supposed to have? That was where she wanted to sit and eat her cotton candy and wait for the ride to end so that she could get back to work. She picked a red horse not too far from her new acquaintance’s donkey. Damn, these fuckers were lifelike. The horse was the size of a real one. It was almost like it was breathing at times. Nadia blinked that thought away, she needed to get some glasses. “Nah, kids don’t like sitting still much. Can’t say I blame them.” She did enjoy the small reprieve, though. Even after six years of getting used to it, emotions were overwhelming, and carnivals were full of just as many negative emotions as they were positive ones. The woman next to her, for instance, though muted (probably not human), was feeling more than a little uncomfortable in their predicament. “No need to apologize, babe,” Nadia said with a smile and a wink. “You seem like pretty good company.”

Nessa squirmed in the saddle, trying to force out one of her signature smiles. “Under normal circumstances I might agree with ya,” she chuckled. Nessa had never ridden any sort of animal before. It simply wasn’t something glaistigs did. Not only was it mildly offensive to ride something that had such similarity to her own anatomy, but the beasts were just terrifying. They were huge, they had weird teeth, they had no regard for clothing or manners. Not to mention they could kill you with one kick if they wanted! But these were fine...they were plaster and fake and just a ride. “Sorry, I’m just not a huge fan of horses...or goats. Or donkeys, as it were,” she nodded down to the obscene creature she was straddling. “Hold on to yer horses, lassies!” The worker yelled in an over-exaggerated southern accent as he slammed the ride into motion. Only it didn’t seem to be working right. The main part of the carousel wasn’t moving, however something was lurching forward.

Damn. This girl really was uncomfortable, wasn’t she? Nadia almost felt bad for her. “Hey, don’t sweat it. At least they’re not real, right?” Merry go rounds were kind of child’s play; nothing really intimidating about a couple of shittily painted animals going around in a circle to carnival music playing in the background. But fears weren’t exactly logical. And this merry go round was pretty fucking weird. Nadia’s horse almost felt like it was breathing. That was… odd, to say the least. And when the worker started the ride. “What the fuck?” Nadia yelped as the horse sprung into action, not the ride. She attempted to grab onto something, but… it wasn’t a real horse. She’d ridden a horse for the first time several years ago, after splurging a bit of money to get the Wild West experience. This machinery underneath her seemed to breathe and move like a real animal, but there was nothing for her to hold onto. She jerked forward and gripped the creature’s neck as tightly as she could. “What the fuck!”

A loud bleat escaped Nessa as she doubled forward, attempting to grasp anything to keep her from falling off and being pummeled by the creature’s plaster hooves. “WHY ARE THEY MOVING IS THIS NORMAL??” She screamed and clenched her eyes shut as if that would erase the horror from happening. Judging by the other woman’s reaction no, this was not how merry go rounds usually worked. “Make it stop!” She squealed at the carnival worker who simply laughed in return. At least the things weren’t running off through the rest of the fair, but it was bad enough just galloping along in circles. “How- do you- stay on?!” Nessa looked desperately at her riding companion who seemed so cool and collected only a few moments before.

Gritting her teeth, Nadia attempted to hold on to the make believe horse for dear life. “They’re, uh, not supposed to move like this, girlie,” she forced out as she scanned the beast quickly. Without a mane or bridle to grasp onto, she simply wrapped her arms around the creature’s plastic neck, feeling its muscles twitch under her hands. She felt dizzy, in a way that wasn’t just from the motions of the merry go round. She felt too light. For a moment, terror gripped her as she thought she was being forced from her body, but the pounding of her heart grounded her. She slumped forward a bit before she tried to fight through whatever fatigue was overcoming her. “Just hold on,” she told her companion, focusing on the other woman’s fear and desperation. She turned her head in time to lock eyes with the carnival worker, memorizing his face, his laugh, his smugness. Something in her eye caused his smile to dim.

Nessa clutched her mount for dear life, her claws protruding slightly as she struggled to stay attached. “That’s the plan!!” The beast below her jumped and jostled and Nessa wondered why on earth anyone in their right mind ever rode these things EVER, and especially why anyone would make a children’s ride out of the terrifying creatures. Though she supposed if this ride was a normal one and not bewitched by some sort of magical nonsense it might be a bit safer and more fun. “Turn this off RIGHT NOW SIR!” She screamed, her high pitched voice not exactly embodying a tone of authority. “This can’t go on forever, can it??” Though the ferris wheel sure had lasted quite a long time...Nessa’s stomach began to turn at the thought of being stuck on this thing for hours. “Oh I think I’m gonna hurl…”

This wasn’t anywhere close to riding a real horse, but Nadia managed to hold on. She felt impossibly weak, like she didn’t have a body again, and she kept feeling herself slip a bit as she tried to stay on the ride. “Why are we moving so fucking fast?” she snarled out. “This is a fucking kids’ ride.” A kids’ ride that was moving far too fast and with machinery that obviously wasn’t normal. This had to be some kind of fae fuckery. Or maybe it was just regular, run of the mill supernatural fuckery. But it was a load of fuckery, this much Nadia was sure of. “Can’t last too long,” she said loudly to her companion. Ugh, her head was spinning faster than the ride. At least her pounding heart was a stabilizer. As long as she could feel it, she knew she was alive. She managed to laugh a bit, higher in pitch than normal and a little hysterical. “If you’re gonna hurl, make sure not to do it in my direction, babe. I don’t wanna join you.”

Nessa groaned and threw the woman a look of desperation. “If I can aim, you got it, love!” The glaistig slammed her head against the plastic neck of the donkey and she let out a small, pained bleat. It was like the damned thing was trying to make this whole ordeal as painful as possible. “This- isn’t- supposed to be- a thrill ride!” Nessa LOVED thrill rides. But she usually knew she was going on one before it happened. After what felt like EONS, the beast below her began to lose steam – or so she thought. Loosening her grip for a millisecond, Nessa unclenched her eyes and looked up at the other woman. “I- I think it’s stopping!” As if on cue, the plastic creature gave a final lurch before screeching to a halt, suddenly devoid of all sense of life and motion. The unexpected standstill threw Nessa forward, over the head of the donkey and flat on her ass in the middle of the ride. Huffing a piece of hair out of her eyes, she could have sworn she heard the beast chuckle at her. “Why I oughta-” she warned at the inanimate object.

One thing was certain: someone was gonna have hell to pay when Nadia got off that ride. “Well, it’s certainly,” she said, her breathing harsh, “thrilling.” It felt like she was clinging to the plastic horse for hours, dizziness frequently causing gaps in her memory. She almost fell off two more times, her grip too weak to hold on. When the horse jerked to a stop, Nadia slammed forward. Still holding on, she managed to slide off the plastic horse. She groaned and placed her head between her knees, trying to stop the spinning and ward off the nausea. “Fuck. I need a minute.” Just a minute, and she was going to get up and kick that fucker who was controlling the damn ride in the ass. And maybe the teeth. Guy was gonna be in some major pain before she was done, though. She looked over to her new friend, who was threatening the purple donkey she’d been held captive by. Nadia laughed a bit. “I think you scared him stiff.” None of the animals were moving, anymore. It was as if they’d never moved in the first place.

Stretching and testing her limbs to make sure no damage was done, Nessa tried to glare at the woman’s joke, but she just couldn’t. A smile slowly spread across her lips and she shook her head, pushing herself up to her feet. “Good. Serves him right!!” She chastised the plaster donkey once more, giving it a final slap for good measure before flinching, just in case it decided to retaliate. “I’m Nessa, by the way. Here,” she offered a steadying hand, leading them quickly over to the exit. This had been by far her least favorite experience with the carnival and she didn’t want to remember the night on such a down note. “I can say with extreme certainty that I will not ever be doing that ride again.” Nessa glared at the carnival worker, keeping his face burned in her memory for a later date. Perhaps a week’s worth of fae pranks would change his tune a bit.

Nadia allowed the other woman to lead her off the ride, her head still spinning and her body feeling a bit too heavy. “I’m Nadia,” she said. Laughing, she added, “Nice to meet you. Wish it was under less stressful circumstances.” She took the time to look at the carnival worker, not unlike Nessa. However, where Nessa had glared, Nadia smiled. Soft, gentle, charming with a little something else. She knew how to read emotions and present emotions adequately through facial expressions and body language while still being unreadable. In animals, the baring of teeth meant danger. The worker’s thoughts were filled with snarling dogs as he looked at her, and his smugness was tinted with a bit of fear. Good. He should be afraid. Nadia looked back at Nessa. “I can safely say that I’ve never been on a carousel like that one, but I don’t think I’m gonna risk anything like that again.” Nessa seemed like a nice person. Cute, bubbly. It wouldn’t hurt Nadia to keep her around. She allowed concern to color her voice as she asked, “You doing alright after all that?”

Nessa took a deep breath and raised her arms in a yoga-like pose, centering herself. The plaster donkey couldn’t hurt her anymore. Or anyone else, if she could get back to it when no one was around. She’d be sure of that. She smiled, the expression flooding every inch of her tiny body. “Yes, I think I’m alright. Now that my feet are firmly on the ground,” she specified. The fae wasn’t adverse to being in the air, but she much preferred to have her hooves connected to the earth. Not only was it safer, it helped her feel truly connected to herself. Oblivious to the viciously sweet smile Nadia gave the worker, Nessa threw her arms around the other woman and trapped her in a quick bear hug. “Thank you so much for not making fun of my stupid little fear. I just- I don’t even like riding real horses.” Her eyes flitted back to the purple monstrosity. “Or half horses, at that.”

Hugs weren’t really Nadia’s thing, but she allowed the other woman to give her one, even offering Nessa a pat or two on the back before she stepped away. “Hey, yeah, don’t sweat it. Lots of people don’t like riding big animals.” She, too, glanced at the ride. “And, after that load of bullshit, I don’t fucking blame them. That’s actually right on up there in my top worst experiences in this town.” She gave Nessa a soft smirk. “The company’s the only thing that made it alright.” That, and the amount of money she’d picked up before getting on the damned contraption. See, Nadia wasn’t aching for money. The opposite, really. But she liked having a surplus, and then a surplus on top of that surplus. And she kind of liked picking pockets. It was an enjoyable pastime, and the risk of getting caught added to it. So, despite the fact that she was going to come back and bust the worker’s head open, she was still in a pretty good mood, if a little lightheaded. “Wanna grab a bite to eat? The ride’s around here seem a little touch and go, but carnival food always kicks some major ass.”

Nessa’s face lit up and she bounced up and down, almost as if she hadn’t just been holding onto the neck of a sentient purple donkey for dear life just a few minutes before. “I’d love to! Have you tried anything in the carnival yet?? I’m a pretty big fan of the funnel cakes, especially if you have them add some of those syrupy strawberries on top! And extra sugar! Oh- and the corndogs! I swear, they’re magical. ” Nessa reached out and snaked her arm through Nadia’s. “It may have been hellish, but it’ll be one hell of a story,” she winked, leading them off towards one of her favorite food booths in the fair.

[villlainarc]

To Fall in Love

Through the Lonely Nights That Fall

Summary: In which Roman is incredibly gay and may be coming on just a bit too strong.

Pairing: Logince

Warnings: unresolved argument, the angst train keeps on rolling, unhappy ending (so it doesn’t sneak up on you later)

Word Count: 2178

More A/N: this is a secret santa gift for @ari-the-anxious-ace and as such, is already completed (and can be found at this very moment on ao3). but so as not to spam you, chapters will be posted every three days.

special thanks to @cringeless for beta reading :)

masterlist || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6

read on ao3 or below the cut

find other stuff i’ve written under #writings from the stars

Roman has become nearly nocturnal over the past few weeks, ever since the first night he’d met Logan. He’s stayed awake all through the night, both singing and talking with Logan, who seems to only be awake at night. Not that he’s going to complain—seeing Logan at all is more than he would ever have dreamed possible—but it has caused him to adjust his sleep schedule a fair bit. Being fully awake when the stars are all out is a new experience, and Roman has found that he enjoys it very much.

Especially if it means getting to see Logan.

Logan, the enchanting mermaid with scales that shimmer and are shockingly smooth to the touch, with a singing voice like silk and a speaking voice that’s charmingly human. Logan, with those blue eyes more brilliant and beautiful than anything human could hope to be, with that hair that dries into dark waves that Roman can barely stop himself from running his fingers through. Logan, with his moonlit skin and shy smile. Logan.

“Roman?” Logan asks, and Roman feels himself blush as he pushes his thoughts aside.

“Yes, right, sorry, were you saying something?”

Logan smiles fondly at him, and Roman feels himself start to melt just a bit. “I was merely asking why, when you mentioned your reasons for sailing here yesterday, you said it was to follow your heart. I’m not fully educated on the anatomy of humans, but as far as I’m aware, you need your hearts to survive, correct?”

Roman can’t help the rather unattractive snort he lets out. “Lo, that’s a figure of speech. If our hearts left our bodies then yeah, we’d definitely die.”

“Ah. Then… why do you use that expression? If you’d die without your hearts, why do you talk about following them in order to… to… I’m sorry, it seems to have slipped my mind, what does this expression mean again?”

“It’s…” Roman trails off, thinking of the best way to word his explanation. It’s surprisingly difficult to describe concepts to other people when the knowledge seems so natural. He’d learned this the hard way after explaining things to Logan that he’d thought everyone knew about on several different occasions. “It’s… sort of like following your dreams? Or letting your emotions lead?”

Logan frowns. “Why would you ever do that?”

Roman laughs. Logan’s expression doesn’t change. “Oh. You’re being serious.”

“Of course I am. What gave you the impression I would be otherwise?” Logan tilts his head to the side in curiosity, and Roman shrugs, letting him continue. “Is ‘following your heart’ something humans do often?” He doesn’t lift his hands to put finger quotes around the phrase “following your heart,” but Roman can hear them implied in his voice.

“Yes, I think? It depends on the person, but it isn’t exactly a rare occurrence. Sometimes you have to, in order to find true happiness.”

“Fascinating,” Logan says, watching Roman with curious eyes. “And it was ‘following your heart’ that brought you here?”

Roman feels himself brighten. “It was! Your singing lured me here—not in a bad way though,” he assures Logan upon seeing his face scrunch up uncomfortably, “because it gave me the courage to follow my heart when I wouldn’t have otherwise.”

“That was… me?”

“Yeah. Without your song, I would have stayed—” he hesitates, not sure how much he should tell Logan.

“Stayed where?” Logan asks, fixing him with those blue eyes and making Roman’s decision for him.

“At the palace.”

“The palace? Roman, why would you—” Logan’s voice turns soft. “You were a prince, weren’t you? And you still left?”

“I didn’t want to be there, Logan. You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t wish to.”

“But you still left your kingdom. What about your family? And… you weren’t the heir, right?”

Roman winces upon hearing the veiled guilt in Logan’s voice. He almost thinks about lying, but he knows he can’t do that to Logan. “I was.” Logan looks stricken now, and Roman stumbles through his own words in a rush to fix the damage he’s done. “But Logan, I have five brothers. One of them can lead, the kingdom will be fine, I promise, and you haven’t hurt anyone, you could never hurt anyone, Logan this isn’t—”

“It is my fault.”

“But it’s not. Logan, you didn’t know and no one’s hurt and it was my choice to leave. It’s not your fault.” Logan still doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t directly argue with Roman. Spurred on by his silence, Roman adds softly, “You helped me, if anything. And meeting you was worth it.”

Logan’s face, normally as pale and unblemished as porcelain, turns a brilliant shade of red. Roman smiles, and, encouraged by Logan’s flustered state, becomes bolder. “Seeing you blush was worth it,” he whispers, lifting a hand to brush against Logan’s cheek.

Logan freezes at the contact, scarcely breathing. He watches as Roman moves closer, slowly enough that he can pull away. He doesn’t. He doesn’t move at all, fixing Roman with wide, unblinking eyes.

“You’re my dream come true, Logan.”

Immediately, Logan recoils, leaving Roman’s hand hovering in the air where his face had been. “I’m not,” he says, the vulnerable look he’d had on his face vanishing in an instant. “I’m not,” he repeats, and his expression is cold. So cold.

Had Roman said something wrong? What else could have caused Logan to shut down so quickly? “I’m not lying,” Roman tries. “I mean, why do you think I sailed here?” He doesn’t reach out to Logan again, but the mermaid still leans farther away.

“Not for me.”

“Logan,” Roman begins gently, “I was following my heart, my dream. What do you think that led me to?”

“Adventure? Freedom?” Logan tries, looking desperate.

“Love,” Roman replies, attempting a smile.

“No,” Logan insists. “No, you’re wrong.”

“Lo, I’m pretty sure I know my dream better than you do. It’s… a human thing, this is something we just know.” Roman frowns then, wondering if Logan’s so staunchly against this because he’s coming on too strong. That’s probably it, the poor mermaid hasn’t had anyone to love him before. Roman can wait if that’s the case. He’ll wait for as long as it takes.

But if Logan’s response is any indication, that doesn’t seem to be the case. “When you say dream, you do mean dreams, correct?” His voice comes out unusually shrill, his body language reminiscent of a cornered animal. “Humans have more than one, don’t they?” He asks the question as though he knows the answer. As if he knows the answer, and he’s afraid of it.

“No?” Logan tenses up at that, so Roman backtracks quickly. “I mean, kind of. It’s… it’s a philosophy thing, where some people believe that we all have a specific purpose—or calling, even—in life, and that’s our one dream. All other actions stem from that, so do all other dreams. So we do have more than one, in that sense.”

“But you have only one true dream,” Logan says, slowly unfurling as the tension in him falls away, giving way to resigned acceptance. “And you think that your one dream is me.”

It’s a statement, not a question, but Roman answers it anyway. “I think so, at least. I don’t know if your call would have reached me otherwise.”

Logan opens his mouth to argue, but then seems to think the better of it. “But you don’t know that for sure.” His terrified expression has reverted back to the cold, calculating one he’d had in place before. While it’s probably better than flat out fear, Roman isn’t sure by how much.

“Well, no, but—”

“Then I’m not your dream, Roman. I can’t be.”

“Why not?” Roman tries to keep the anger from his voice, but that’s proving to be rather difficult. What doesn’t Logan understand about this?

“That’s— I can’t tell you that. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Not telling me is also hurting me.”

“Then I guess I can’t really win, can I?” Logan gives him a rueful smile.

“Logan—”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Logan interrupts. “I don’t want you to leave in the morning feeling negatively about this situation.”

Roman nods, accepting the change of subject without complaint. The two talk back and forth for another half hour full of laughter and smiles, both trying equally as hard to erase the conversation that had caused far too much hurt from their minds.

It almost works.

At the very least, Roman leaves with a smile on his face when the sun rises, the promise that he’ll return tonight still on his lips. As he leaves, he follows that promise with one whispered to himself that he’ll make sure that everything is okay, whatever it takes.

🌊

Still, when Roman returns to the ship, he can’t get Logan’s words out of his head. They feel important, and he can’t quite place why. It’s on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t remember what it could be for the life of him. Had he read something about dreams on the way over here? Is there even a book about them on the ship?

He can’t help but think that what he’s just barely remembering is important, so instead of going right to sleep when he reaches the boat again, Roman descends into the captain’s quarters, stationing himself in front of the bookshelf that only just qualifies as a library.

Completing a quick scan of the titles, he’s disappointed to find that nothing catches his eye. He’ll have to do this the old fashioned way, then.

Roman runs his right hand over the spines, frowning in concentration as he determines which books could even potentially mention dreams, motivation, hope… anything. Nothing having to do with geography, he thinks, ruling out the first few titles. Probably not physics or chemistry either. Psychology…? Maybe. He pulls out the two books on that topic, just in case. On to the next row.

Definitely not sailing guides. Not anything to do with biology or cooking, nor mathematics. Why would pirates have books on mathematics, anyway? Or psychology, chemistry, physics, or biology, for that matter? The pirates who had previously owned this ship must have been very well-read.

He shakes his head to clear it of the distraction, crouching as he moves his hand down to the third shelf. Mythology? Maybe. He takes the three large tomes full of myths and legends off the shelf. The rest of the books are a blend of messily handwritten journals that Roman has yet to bring himself decipher and books in languages from other kingdoms that he isn’t quite fluent enough in to understand. Just psychology and mythology, then. Hopefully, that’s enough.

Roman stands up from his crouch to light a candle and walk over to the desk. He knows should get some rest as it’s now morning, but he has a feeling this is more important. The nagging in his mind is only getting stronger, even as his exhaustion grows.

Sitting down on the chair in front of the desk, Roman sets down his stack of five books. He flips open the cover of each, looking through the table of contents in them. He’s quickly able to rule out both psychology books when he finds no mention of dreams, motivation, hope, or anything remotely promising in any of their chapters. He feels safe enough putting them aside in favor of concentrating on the other three; he has more than enough information to work with as it is.

He yawns, slowly roving his eyes over the title of each chapter, reading and rereading each word to be sure he’s not missing anything. Roman’s eyelids feel heavy, but he forces himself to keep them open. This is important.

Yawning again, he realizes that he hasn’t processed a single word on the page he’s been staring at. With a sigh, Roman returns his eyes to the top of the page, running them down the page for a second time.

Another yawn. Another sigh as he notices he’s stopped paying attention to the words on the page again. Another return to the top of the page.

Another yawn, another sigh, and his eyelids slip shut. This time he doesn’t resist their pull as he lets his head fall onto the book he’d been trying to read. He can sleep now. Reading can come later, no matter how important. He won’t be able to understand the words written on the pages if he can barely concentrate enough to keep his eyes open. Besides, how important could this really be? Yes, reading these books can wait.

Roman allows himself to drift off, content in the knowledge that when he wakes up, it will only be a few more hours until he can see Logan again and somehow assure them both that everything is going to be okay.

[bangtan-gal]

Ghost of a Memory

Kim Woojin x Fem!Reader

Telepathy + Necromancy

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, some awkward parts, a lot of point of view changing, woojin’s character is debatable, dubious consent? Some lies and suspicious stuff

Word count: 9k

Woojin x Fem! Reader Powers!AU

X = Woojin’s POV

+ = Y/N’s POV

A/N: So I decided to split his story into parts, because it is a little longer and I’m struggling a little bit with some plots. I’m not gonna put a specific part for part two, but hopefully in a week or two

Mother nature was truly cruel. The sun was high in the sky, not a single cloud in sight. A light breeze ruffled the long dress around your legs and it smelled of fresh rain. Your grandmother’s favorite weather that she hadn’t gotten to enjoy in the last six months of her life.

The long black dress you wore was heavy and itchy, and a sweat started to drip down the back of your neck. You stood beside your grandfather, a bouquet of lilies and baby breath clutched in your hands. He was stone, his mind somewhere else, completely unaware of what was happening.

You watched in silence as the men threw dirt onto her coffin, the perfect promise that it was completely over. Your body heaved as you let out a sigh. You loved your grandmother; she had practically raised you because her daughter was too incompetent to do so, but for some reason you couldn’t find it in yourself to cry. But your heart ached and the emotions that swirled inside you were far from bright.

“Y/N, do you have any final words?” Your uncle called to you. You blinked, glancing up at him and then towards where the simple black wood case was disappearing. There was nothing that came to mind, just a terrifying blankness. Another sigh left you and you shook your head.

   You were always positive, even in the darkest of times. So even now, with your favorite person gone, there wasn’t very much negatives. You knew that you would be able to smile easily in a couple of days.

   Your uncle ended the funeral with a soft prayer and then everyone stepped forward to place their flowers down. You waited till everyone else had gone and then slowly made your way towards the gravestone.

Y/GM/N Y/L/N

August 19th 2002-May 31st 2080

A lasting memory that we shall forever cherish

   You bent down, leaning the bouquet against the stone. You ran a hand over the stone, a nervous string of words escaping you. Your mind decided that now was a good time to crash, to not allow you to have a proper string of thoughts. You wanted to say something to send your grandmother on her way—but what was there to say?    The breeze picked up around you, sending debris flying and your hair whipped around your face. A soft scream whistled between the trees and you stood up, backing away. You wandered a ways off and leaned back against a tree, closing your eyes and trying to collect your thoughts.  

   It wasn’t just today that your brain was completely scrambled. It was almost always messed up, struggling to connect memories and words together, sometimes completely shutting down all together. Something had happened, that everyone else around you seemed to know except you. There had been pitying stares, nervous glances, and quiet murmurs for the past few months—and along with that your mind has been a mess. There were some good days and you were hoping that today would be one, but it decided against it.

You turned back around, gaze wandering over the few people that were still there. A flash of blue caught your attention and someone that you’d never seen before, but you swear you knew, stood there. He was tall and well-built. Just like everyone, he wore all black, but his purply-blue stuck out like a sore thumb. He stood alone, staring bitterly at the grave.

You didn’t know why, but something, something inside you refused to leave him alone. Who was this guy? Why was he here? Did he know your grandparents? You fumbled over the uneven ground, holding your dress up and making sure you didn’t step on a grave. He didn’t notice you approach, his eyes glazed over as emotions whirled over his face.

“Excuse me?”

He blinked and shook his head, glancing over at you. His eyes widen—which had the strangest lavender hue to them—and dark eyebrows raise. He coughed and when he looked back at you, his face was completely indifferent. You tilted your head, having to lean back to look up at him.

You smiled, hoping to look more welcoming. “I’ve never seen you before… how do you know my grandmother?” “My parents used to live next to them a couple years back. They’d come over for dinner a lot,” he said softly. “My parents couldn’t make it so I’m going in their place.”

You nodded, your smile brightening. “You’re the Kims’ son?”

He laughed, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Woojin,” he murmured, reaching out a hand. You accepted the handshake, struggling to meet his gaze as his eyes looked everywhere except you. Suddenly, there was a flash of black and a spray of water. You stumbled a little and blinked rapidly, confused where the image came from. When you glanced around, everything was the same and no one else seemed to notice it.

A memory?

“Y/N.”

   The two of you stood in silence, both of you disappearing into your own worlds. There was a soft caress at the back of your head and you absentmindedly scratched at it. It didn’t go away, but you chose to ignore it. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Woojin staring at you. Choosing to ignore it, you stretched out your arms and let out a quiet yawn.

“Have we met before?” You asked out of the blue, the question bothering you. Woojin stiffened beside you, refusing to meet your gaze as he shook his head. You frowned. “Are you sure? I mean—maybe you just look like your parents, but even then I only met your parents once—but you just… you’re not a new person.”

The man shrugged, ruffling his dyed-hair. Then he shook his head again, something like a snort escaping him. You frowned, watching as Woojin played with his jacket and then his gaze looked up towards the cloudless sky. Sunlight ran along his face, showing off his tan skin and sharp jawline.

“We’ve never met before.” His tone was stern as he said the words, but his eyes refused to meet yours. Then he reached into his pocket, pulling out a red envelope and handing it to you. “This is for your grandfather.”

   He nodded his goodbye as he turned around and walked away. You stared, mouth open as he sauntered away. The envelope was heavy in your hands and you glanced down at it, running your hand over the rectangle. The wind still as you stood there, watching the mysterious, blue-haired man disappear.

++++++

   It took several weeks, but you eventually forgot about the stranger at your grandmother’s funeral. You forced yourself back into the way of life, working at shelters, volunteering at schools, and helping out around the house.

   The sun had just rose and the sky still had a pink hue to it as you sat at the table. You stared at the newspaper in dismay, fingers running along the text. Another school had been burned down three days ago and for the first time, it wasn’t an act from Miroh. There had been no drawing of a tiger anywhere on the building and the way it was performed showed that it clearly wasn’t by a “professional.”

   You and a couple of your friends had arranged a fundraiser in order to get education to the kids that went there and hopefully get a school back up in a year. The clock read 6:54 AM and you sighed, getting up to make yourself a pot of coffee. The tile was cold on your bare feet and there was a glistening of frost on the windows.

   Cold crept up your body and with a grumble, you pulled your jacket tighter around you. One of the aftermath effects from The Collapse had caused the weather to constantly change. One day it could be sunny and blazing hot, the next a frigid, cloud-filled day. It made it nearly impossible to naturally grow produce and most were either chemically made or grown in rows of greenhouses.

   The coffee finished brewing and you happily poured yourself a cup before you pulled on your socks and slipped into your boots. You were met by a brisk wind when you stepped outside and you groaned as you watched a cluster of leaves roll across your lawn. All you wanted was a couple of warm days, especially for an event like this. How were you expected to make any money if no one would want to even leave their house?    You hopped onto your bike and ducked your head down as you went against the harsh breeze. You called hello to your neighbor, Mr. Kinyong, stopped for a moment to give your old newspapers to an older lady who needed them to burn for warmth, and promised to help a young kid with her guitar later on.

   The bike ride took you thirty minutes, since you lived on the far outskirts of District 9. You had grown up in JYP district, but when your father passed away and your mother decided that raising you was no longer worth it, you moved in with your grandparents. You had to say that 9 was much different from JYP—you typically got the second-hand crops that were grown in the bigger districts and you didn’t get to enjoy the luxury of meat or milk as much as you used to. You didn’t realize how much trouble the people were living in until you joined them. It had taken you several months to get used to the harshness of the area, the food rationing, and the sicknesses that filled the air.

You turned into the park, your hair whipping around your face. The stage and banners were already set up and your friends moved around, shouting orders at one another and struggling to get tables and chairs in place. You lurched to a stop and hopped off, pulling your jacket tighter to yourself as you made your way towards Chan-ri.

“Y/N!” She chirped, waving you over. “You’re late!”

You rolled your eyes and flicked her forehead.

“I apologize that I don’t have a car,” you grumbled, rubbing at your arms. You questioned how you were supposed to sing if it was nearly impossible to talk properly. Cold burned your anatomy and heavy jacket and gloves you wore did nothing to help. She giggled, pinching your cheek, and then turning to the two boys who were helping her set up the speakers.

“Don’t worry, all we have to do is a soundcheck and then you perform at ten,” she replied. “Hey! You idiots, don’t put it on the slanted grass! Put it on the cement!”

   Her screech had you flinching. She exhaled and covered her face for a moment while she collected herself. You shoved your hands into your pockets and glanced around. The park was still empty, but the event didn’t start until nine. You pulled your hair up and then turned to Chan-ri with a grin, forcing yourself into the right mindset, because today couldn't go wrong.

You were pleasantly surprised by the amount of people that showed up. People milled about, checking out the small shops you had set up. You stood beside the stage, holding a guitar tightly in your hands. Nerves zinged through your body and you felt your confidence starting to crumble at the idea of having to perform that in front of everyone.

Chan-ri and Lucas both shot you a thumbs up from where they stood, the two looking like proud parents as they grinned at you. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at them, even though a small smile tugged at your lips. They announced your performance and you slowly made your way up the stairs.

You introduced yourself, smiling nervous to see a hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at you. You pulled the guitar strap over your shoulder and quickly started plucking a few chords. You glanced up one more time before closing your eyes and letting yourself fall into your own world. The words were easy to recite—they’d been something you’d been singing since you were a young teen.

With each song, with each round of applause, your heart started to feel lighter. By the time you were on your last word, you were able to smile throughout the song and actually meet the gazes of the few people in the crowd. As you strummed the last chord, your eyes landed on a familiar floof of blue hair.

You stood up really fast, sending the chair behind you skittering. You ignored it as you hurried off the stage, shoving the guitar at Lucas as he came to congratulate. No () way that this guy was here. You shoved past people, your heart racing as you hurried to find him. It was impossible for you to explain why you were so desperate to see him, but so many questions filled your mind and you couldn’t leave it alone.

“Woojin!” You shouted when you saw his back moving away from you.

   The man froze, his shoulders hunching as he turned around to glance at you. Disbelief ran over his face as you marched towards him, a semi-grin on your face and hands clutched at your sides as you tried to fight off the cold. You stopped in front of him, tilting your head back to stare at him. A dry chuckle left him.

“Of course you’re here.”

You grimaced.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You mumbled, crossing your arms. Cold continued to pick along your skin and you really wanted your gloves back in that moment.

He shrugged. “I guess it’s just unfortunate that we ran into each other again.”

Your mouth dropped open and you flubbered for a moment, trying to find something to say. Woojin started to turn around again and you quickly reached out, trying to grab for his jacket sleeve, but instead your hand grasped his. For a small moment, you were only able to note how perfectly your small hand fit in his large one. Then you blinked, a blush spreading along your face as you awkwardly took your hand away.

Woojin’s eyes were wide for a millisecond before he managed to cool his expression. He cleared his throat, eyes darting everywhere, and you noticed the red that started to color his ears. You held your hands tightly together and shivered, glancing down at your feet.

“Well, for one,” you started. “That was rude, and number two, could you like… not run from me?”

He searched your face with a sigh and then his gaze landed on your red hands. Woojin licked his lips and then reached out, clasping your hands in his and rubbing them together. If your face was red before, it was probably sparking now. You let him vigorously rub your hands together and graciously accepted the warmth that spread through your body because of it. You tried to ignore how he didn’t let go of your hands after rubbing them and met his gaze, your teeth digging into your lip as you awaited his response.

“I’m not a coward—I don’t run from people,” he stated, narrowing his eyes at you. You grinned, the memory of your “grumpy” teddy bear from your childhood coming to mind. Woojin frowned and you coughed in a weak attempt to cover up your laugh.

“You kind of ran from me that day. I mean, you offered no explanation and then just ran away like someone was chasing you with a torch,” you commented.

Silence stretched out between the two of you. Woojin finally seemed to notice that he was still holding your hands and quickly took his hands back, pressing them to his chest. You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and glanced around. People milled about around you, some sending questioning stares your way.

Then you squared your shoulders and looked back at him.

“Fine, if you’re really not a coward, you’ll go to coffee with me after this,” you said, raising your chin. Woojin tilted his head and then smiled and a flutter filled your chest.

“Fine,” he agreed.

“Fine.”

“Fine.

“Okay then!”

“Okay.”

“Awesome.”

“Fantastic.”

“Lovely.” “Wonderful.” You pouted.

“Magical.”

“Majestic.”

“Cool.”

“Chill.”

“Great.” “Good.”

“Y/N, can you come help me with the painting station, please?” Lucas called. You glanced over your shoulder and then back at Woojin. You pointed a somewhat threatening finger at him. “This isn’t over and you better come find me after this, because if you don’t: you’re clearly a chicken!” You threatened and then ran off to help Lucas.

“Got yourself a date?” The boy teased, poking at your cheek. You swatted him away, sending a glare his way and then made your way towards the paint-stand, where Marie stood, covered in paint.

   You sighed and then couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up when you saw her absolutely furious look. Marie was a short girl, with skinny arms and legs, and always had the brightest smile on her face. Seeing the way her fists clenched at her sides and her eyebrows lowered was absolutely hilarious.

   You grabbed a rag and helped her wipe off her face and struggled to get the paint out of her hair. She complained the whole time that she shouldn’t have been left there alone, because most thirteen-year-old boys are too rambunctious for their own good and taller than her. Marie was an easy target and teenagers would make a mess out of anything they didn’t have to clean up.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered. “Chan-ri will find them and give them a scolding they’ll never forget.”

   You glanced over your shoulder, eyes searching through the crowd for a shock of blue hair. There was none. Something bitter burned in your stomach and you exhaled, making your way back towards the stage to grab your gloves and jacket. You pulled them on and zipped the jacket up to your chin.

   You spent the rest of the afternoon helping people who wished to donate and then cleaning up the stands and putting away equipment. As people started to leave and the groups dwindled, you looked around once more, only to come up short-handed. Your shoulders drooped and you back to struggling with the speakers. Eventually a couple of the boys—the ones that actually knew what they were doing—ushered you away and took it down.

The others invited you out to dinner, but you declined and bid them goodbye as you swung your leg onto the bike. The bitter weather bit at your skin the whole ride home and by the time you stepped inside, your cheeks and nose were completely red. You threw off your jacket and slid from your boots, sighing at the warmth of the house.

You were greeted by your grandfather who sat at the dining table, reading over the daily news. His eyes were brighter than usual and when he looked up to you, his smile wasn’t hesitant or confused. The nurse was clinking away in the kitchen and you saw a flash of blonde hair as you glanced around the corner.

“Hi Pops… are you feeling better?” You greeted, bowing your head. He nodded and then glanced down at the paper. He rubbed at his gray eyebrow, blue eyes narrowing as he stared at the page.

“How’d the fundraiser go?” “We made just enough,” you sighed and sat down across from him. You drummed your fingers on the table, glancing around the empty dining room. “I think it’s so weird how not many people donated… I mean, you’d think they’d want to revive one of the only schools we have?”    The old man nodded in agreement and then yawned. He set the paper aside and then glanced up at you. His lips quirked to one side and then he shrugged. You pursed your lips and leaned back, already prepared for the answer that he would give you.

“With all these gangs starting territory fights and deciding that schools are the best way to show their superiority, people are much too scared to send their precious little ones there, even if it means it will better them off in the future. Most people won’t even leave their house nowadays and I can’t blame them. None of those gangs have a stable mind and they do whatever they wish,” he remarked, glancing towards the kitchen. Tina stepped out with two cups of tea, setting them down. You stared down at the light brown liquid and then looked up to watch the steam disappear into the air. “You think people really want to put their money into something that could only cause more danger and lives and for it to probably be destroyed once more in the future? The majority of the community now believes they’re better off putting their money into a bunker or into transport passes. They hear all about the huge, grand districts that are far safer and have better education, food, clothing, and other materials.

“They aren’t thinking of their future here; they’re thinking of their future elsewhere.”

   The room went quiet as your grandfather reached for his tea and took a quiet sip. If he was off put by the lack of honey, milk, or sugar, he didn’t show it. Of course, he hadn’t grown up like you had—with the luxuries of products like that. You could never drink tea plain, no matter how hard you tried, because at the end of the day: tea was just dead leaves soaked in water. If there were leaves on the ground outside, all you’d have to do is crunch them up, and just fucking dump them into some hot water.

You opened your mouth and then grit your teeth, loudly breathing out. You thanked Tina for the tea as you picked up the cup and disappeared to your room. The second you closed the door, you dumped the liquid into your plant and then sat down on your bed. Whenever your grandparents brought up any of the big districts, you always felt like they were mocking you for the life you used to lead. But did they expect you to just dump your childhood down the faucet? It was fifteen years of your life that you spent with ease—you loved your parents, your friends, your lifestyle—and although you loved your grandparents now, it would never be quite the same.

Your gaze flitted towards the rectangular mirror that leaned up against the white, chipped walls. You scrunched up your nose and then forced yourself to smile. It looked crazy. You dropped back, staring at the ceiling and thinking of how much better this day could’ve gone. The fundraiser could’ve made hundreds of thousands more dollars, enough to not only rebuild the school, but put actual security in it.

Woojin could’ve stayed and you could’ve avoided this depressing place for a little while longer.

You shook the thought from your head and then grabbed your notebook. The paper was thick and rough beneath your fingers as you continued to flip through all the used pages. There were a million images and phrases among the lines, revealing the fragments of memories and nightmares that were burned into your mind’s eye.  You spent the rest of the night in your room, absentmindedly sketching images in the book and you didn’t realize that you’d drawn Woojin’s face before you fell asleep.

+++++++    You woke up late the next morning, groaning as you lift your head from you arm. There was a kink in your neck from the weird angle you slept in and your legs hurt since you slept in your jeans. Your arms stretched above your head as you yawned.

   You took a quick shower and changed. When you got downstairs, you found that your grandfather had gone out to play bingo and that Tina got the day off. You threw the note in the trash can and went to make yourself a cup of coffee. Exhaustion pulled at you and when you had looked at yourself in the mirror, there were noticeably dark circles under your eyes.

No coffee.

“Dammit,” you grumbled, running a hand through your hair. A part of you—the logical part—knew that you shouldn’t be tired because you got more than enough sleep. But the part of you that always craved the morning drink, with or without milk, refused to take no as an answer.

   You bit your thumb nail and then decided that you may as well go grab a cup of coffee and then meet up with a couple of friends. It was as if yesterday hadn’t happened; there wasn’t a cloud in sight and when you stepped out, the sweater you wore was too much. You quickly ran inside to change, grabbed a pair of sunglasses, and headed out.

   Deciding against taking your bike, you started your stroll down the sidewalk. Mr. Kinyong was already out, watering his wife’s plants. You smiled, thinking of just how loyal and dedicated the man was—his wife was in the hospital with cancer and he had promised her that when she came back, all her plants would be top-notch, no matter what the weather decides to do.

As you got closer to town and the houses turned into condos, you were stopped by a car rolling up beside you. Your shoulders stiffened and you glanced at the car—a sleek, black sports car—eyes narrowing at the tinted windows. The passenger’s side rolled down and you were met by lavender ish eyes and a teddy-bear-like face. His hair was gelled back, his shoulders accented by a fitted leather jacket, and you could’ve sworn his cheeks were contoured.

“I promised you coffee”—somebody behind him honked— “so here I am to fulfill that.”

You crossed your arms, silently questioning how the man had found you. But then all the questions you had, the vague memories, the oddity of him showing up out of the blue, and the familiarity of him came back. Who cared if he was a stalker? Maybe you could get all your answers before he took you to his spooky lair and slaughtered you like some sacrificial lamb.

So, with a careless shrug, you opened the door and slid in. If the car looked nice from the outside, then it looked amazing on the inside. The seats were a custom white leather, along with the steering wheel, and everything was smooth and shiny. There were a million different buttons and dials on the dashboard and you didn’t even know how to use half of them. It reminded you of your late father’s car, although his hadn’t been that nice.

You expected him to drive straight towards the coffee shop you were heading towards, but instead he took a sharp left and started deeper into the city. You didn’t question him, instead you leaned your head back against the window, studying him. From his hair that was a mix of light blue, soft gray, and a deepish-purple to his sharp-jawline and puffy lips. What was it about him that was so familiar? In truth, he looked nothing like either of his parents (or at least what you could remember of his parents) his face was too unique to just see on anyone. It also didn’t explain the gut feeling that this man could help solve whatever happened a couple of months ago. Whatever had left your memory and was sending bits and pieces of something ominous.

You finally glanced out the window and saw that you were in the real city—with all the expensive stores and nice restaurants. Or at least the very few that District 9 had. He pulled up against the sidewalk and you watched, mesmerized, as he stepped out and ran a hand through his hair. The sun hit him just right and gave his face a sharp look.

You slid out of the car and followed behind him as he led you into a coffee shop. You expected to be blown away by the smell of coffee like your usual coffee shop, but instead there was a mix of breads, sweets, and the smallest, perfect tinge of coffee. It wasn’t anything like the worn down brick building and instead was fresh and bright. Potted plants line the windows, the floor was a shining gray, the tables white and blue, and overall had a very welcoming feel to it.

“Wow,” you praised as the two of you made your way towards the register. Woojin ordered a mocha of some sort along with a pasty and then turned to you. You finally looked up at the menu and your mouth dropped open. “Um”—you licked your lips—“isn’t this a little expensive?”

“Are you paying?” He observed.

You opened your mouth and then shook your head. You ended up ordering an iced americano along with a muffin and then awkwardly followed Woojin to a table. You mindlessly played with the napkin on the table, trying to arrange the questions you had. There were so many and part of you didn’t know where to start.

The silence was fixed when the girl came by with your orders and set them down. She sent the both of you nervous smiles before she hurried back to the register. You quickly took a sip of the coffee, not realizing the breathy moan you let out at the taste until you glanced up. Woojin stared at you, not a single expression in sight, but you could almost sense the shock.

“Sorry, this is just… it just reminds me of what I used to drink a while back,” you remarked.

Then he sighed.

“Let’s just get this over with, all right? I know you have questions and I’ll answer them as best as I can,” he murmured, eyes meeting yours over his cup, “but I can’t make any promises, because based on what you’ve asked already—I can’t really help you.”

You took another sip from your coffee, deciding to enjoy it before this conversation took a perilous turn.

“Who are you?”

Woojin bit on his finger, his gaze drifting towards the window. You glanced that way too, watching as cars zoomed past and as people strut past, wearing clothes that you could never imagine wearing. You bit your lip and glanced back towards Woojin, watching as he absentmindedly played with the loose strands of his hair. What was it about him?

“I told you, Kim Woojin. My parents were your grandparents neighbors a couple years ago. What else do you want to know? I’m a psychology major, my best friend is named Chris, I live with eight other boys in the Deep City, I’m twenty-two, and I drive a sports car,” Woojin stated. He tilted his head at you, still playing with his hair as he talked. You pursed your lips, getting a weird sense that he was hiding something.

“No—why? Why go to the funeral in your parents’ place at all? You never once met my grandparents—I would know because I went to every dinner that we had with the Kims—and even then, my grandparents and your parents weren’t that close. Actually, you wanna know something? I know every single person that was invited and there were no ‘Kims’ at all on the list. We didn’t even inform them; so how the hell did you find out?

“Oh, and that red envelope? Yeah, I’m a nosy person, but I’m still respectful. I didn’t open it, but it felt too heavy to just be some card. Personally, I don’t believe you’re their son, but I didn’t look into it.

“But all of that leads to just one questions: why the hell were you there?” You finished your rant with a huff and leaned back in your chair. You took a slow sip from you drink, letting the straw fall from your lips with a ‘pop!’.

   The man stopped playing with his hair, his lips parting as he blinked at you. You could see the questions and worries that ran through his eyes. You rested your elbow on the table and leaned your face against the hand. The lost look on his face was too adorable.

“Look, I know I seem innocent and gullible, but there’s something not right with you,” you hummed, “and personally, when someone I recognize but can’t put a name to shows up after that incident, especially on my grandma’s funeral with a suspicious card, I can’t help but wonder if you have something to do with my recent mind problems. Actually—I know you do, because your eyes haunt my dreams. You’re the only person that I’ve ever met with those eyes: they’re too unique to belong to more than one person.”

You sighed, picking a chocolate chip from your muffin and tossing it in your mouth. You couldn’t meet his stare, so instead you watching the way his jaw ticked. A mental clock was ticking in your head as you awaited for something to blow up.  Luck was on your side so far, your brain was actually keeping up and allowed you to keep your thoughts in order.

As an afterthought, you added: “unless, of course, those are contacts.”

Woojin let out a loud breath.

“Look, no, we weren’t invited to the funeral. But, my aunt worked at the hospital your grandma was in before she passed. It was mentioned during our family reunion last week and my parents wanted to come, but couldn’t. They figured the best way to give their condolences and get the letter to your family was to send me,” he claimed, no longer playing with his hands as he steadily met your gaze. “I suck at socializing, not gonna lie, but I am truly sorry for your loss Y/N. As for ‘seeing my eyes in your dreams’... that’s creepy and you’re probably just experiencing deja vu. You wanna know how many people have said that about my eyes? A lot—it’s typically unique things that we think we’ve seen before instead of common things.”

You opened your mouth but he held up a finger.

“I don’t know why you recognize me and I don’t know what happened to you, but I can’t help with whatever it was. I’m really sorry Y/N… but we have no past life together.”

Woojin stood up, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on. You opened your mouth in shock and then shut it. With a groan, you stood up and followed him out.

The ride back to your home was silently nerve-wracking. Neither of you said a single word and you just stared out the window the whole time. He dropped you off on the same corner he found you and when you got out, you turned around to just stare at him. You really wished that he was lying in the coffee shop, but you didn’t feel like he was. He wasn’t nervous when he said anything and he looked into your eyes with such… sincerity.

“Thanks for the ride.”

He nodded and the second you closed the door, Woojin zoomed away.

xxxxxxxx

   He couldn’t stop his heart from racing as he hurried up the stairs. How could you know? How the hell did you even remotely remember? Woojin knew he did a good job, he’d picked through every last part of your mind and covered each part carefully. No one before you had been able to break past it—so why you of all people?

He stumbled into the living room, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. Chan lay on the couch, arm draped over his eyes and his hair a mess. Woojin sighed and then made his way to stand in front of his leader.

“Chan”—he threw a pillow at the man—“I need to talk to you about something.”

He removed his arm, raising a lazy eyebrow at him. Dark circles were still under his eyes and his skin was extremely pale. Woojin frowned, not having to read the man’s mind to know exactly what he was doing last night. Chan groaned, grabbing the pillow that was thrown at him and chucking it at Woojin’s head.

“What?” He huffed, struggling to sit up.

“She remembers me Chan—”

“Shit.”

“—which means memories of that time might come back and she’ll remember all of us. She might remember what she saw and then…” Woojin trailed off, burying his head in hands. How could he have let this happen? Maybe if he just never showed up at the funeral that day, this wouldn’t have happened. For all he know, him seeing you was the trigger. He would be so screwed if the rest of the dust was blown away, because you would have too much information.

“You just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

Woojin glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing at Minho as the boy stepped in. Hyunjin followed in after him, hands shoved in his pockets and new scratches and bruises covering his body. Woojin glanced back at Chan, shrugging in apology. He… he couldn’t just not check up on you—you were technically his problem ever since that incident.

Woojin watched as Chan’s eyes darted past him, to Hyunjin. He hated the fact that he even looked to the younger boy, because he knew exactly what was running through his leader’s head. Woojin shook his head desperately, trying to think of some other solution than to send their hellhound after you.‘Chan, please don’t—that won’t solve any problems.’ The man glanced up at him, his tongue running over his lips as he closed his eyes.

“Woojin, we can’t do much else,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Plus, it’s not like we haven’t used this solution before. There’s been several times where you were the one who ordered it; hasn’t there?”

Woojin winced.

“Chan, please don’t,” he murmured, “let me try to fix it before you send him after her.”

A quiet blanket settled over the four of them. Woojin refused to let his eyes wander from Chan, despite feeling Minho’s harsh glare on him and the loud sounds of Hyunjin’s thoughts pulling at his ability. Y/N was his mission and he couldn’t let it fail just because the girl had some weird one in a million moment. He didn’t know why the memory loss trick was failing, but he was sure that he could fix it if Chan just gave him time.

Time was all he needed.

“Fine, Woojin: a month. I’ll give you a month and if it’s not fixed, she’ll never be seen again.”

He pulled up in front of the house, hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel. The majority of the lights were turned off, minus the kitchen and the porch. Woojin groaned and let his head fall forward for a small moment, questioning exactly what he was supposed to do, but his answer was handed to him moments later.

Somebody rapped on the window of the passenger seat. He glanced up, quickly recognizing Y/N’s grandfather. The window rolled down and the old man leaned forward, bushy eyebrows lowering as he stared at the younger man before him. Woojin blinked, pressing his lips together as he tried to think of an excuse.

“Why are you back here boy?” The man’s voice was raspy and sent chills down his back. There was always something off about the Y/L/N family and he could never pick up on it. He wondered if there was a reason that Y/N managed to push past the brain fog.

“Sir… you remember our agreement, right?”

All he got was a nod.

“You see here… the exercise I performed on her is wearing off and I need to put it back in place, permanently this time. You… you know what will happen if she remembers any of it,” he mumbled. His eyes darted downwards, something cold washing through his body.

The man sighed, scratching at the side of his nose. “Boy—damn—well you may as well come in. She’s sleeping.”

Woojin stepped out of the car, quickly adjusting his jacket. Walking into the house was weird because of everything that had been covered up. Splotches of red flashed before his eyes and he could hear the distant screams in the back of his mind. The memories were shoved back and he let Y/GF/N lead him to your room.

You were fast asleep when he stepped inside, soft snores escaping you. You slept on your stomach, face buried into your arm, and blankets wrapped tightly around your body. The peace there was almost ironic considering the situation. Your room was the same as he remembered—everything still in place and the white slowly peeling from the walls. Small and simple.

Woojin knelt down beside Y/N, brushing his hand down your arm. You didn’t stir. Then he sighed, painfully closing his eyes as he pressed his fingers to your head. There was a moment of stillness—of pure nothing—before the world bounced and he felt your thoughts drift into his mind. He saw glimpses of your dream; nothing too crazy, just simple images floating around.

He pushed past it all, aiming for the chains and locks that were over boxes. He glanced over them, expecting to see cracks of some sort: expecting there to be some sign as to why you were remembering everything, but there was… nothing? All six boxes were still secure, no cracks, no broken chains, and locks tight. How were the glimpses getting out? Was your mind somehow able to pry them open and peek inside? Was that why you could vaguely recognize him and were aware that something was missing?

Woojin pulled back, glancing around. He was always fascinated by people’s minds, he could never control the imagery of how thoughts and memories were stored, it was always by the person. Your mind was simple—the same layout he’d seen multiple times in plenty other minds. Doors and boxes, some shut tightly, others peeked open, and some wide open.

He searched through the ones he could get to, trying to see if he could find those fragments. Woojin wasn’t sure what to do if the boxes were still secure. Could he try to paint a person in your mind to explain his eyes? Put fake memories in to fill the void? He breathed out and was prepared to leave when something stopped him. Your dream started to fill his mind and though he tried to push back against it, it was too strong.

Woojin stood there, watching curiously. There you stood, in a field, surrounded by flowers and long grass. There was nothing in sight for miles and you looked into the wind, your Y/H/C hair flowing behind you. A soft smile was painted on your face and your eyes were focused on something.

Him.

   Shock rippled through him as he watched his own self approach you. He looked the same… yet different. Happier maybe. The two stood side by side, shoulders brushing and fingers knocking against one another. His dream self reached out, intertwining their fingers and pulled Y/N closer to him. A soft giggle escaped the girl and you buried your face in his chest.

“I love you,” he spoke, his voice—well, it was exactly his.

You ran your hands along his shoulder.

“I love you, too.”

Woojin blinked and gasped, stumbling back from you in real life. He stared at your sleeping form, watching as you stretched out and then rolled onto your side. A blush was spreading over your cheeks. How-why-what?

He quickly got up and left the room, cheeks and ears bright red from the confession.  Your grandfather greeted him, eyebrows raised. Woojin pursed his lips and nodded, trying to pretend like everything was fine. Something skeptical ran over the older man’s face and then he shrugged, deciding that it wasn’t worth the argument. Woojin silently bid him goodbye and then hurried over, sitting in the car for a moment.

His heart raced and his hands were sweaty and his face: why was his face so warm? Why was he smiling so much? It was just a dream, for all he knew, you didn’t really feel that why. But for some reason, it still got to him and his heart.

++++++++    Sometimes you truly wondered how cruel life could be. You sat on the stone cold bench, hands buried in your hair, hiccups and sobs falling from you. You stared at the ground, watching as your tears fell and sparkled along the cement. Goosebumps ran along your skin and the sun was slowly sinking in the horizon.

   First the universe had taken your grandmother, then it figured it may as well take your grandfather. You pinched your eyes shut, sobs wracking your body. You remembered it all so clearly: you’d been the one to find him, convulsing on the floor, the whites of his eyes visible, and spittle dripping from his mouth. You’d raced to the phone, sobbing as you tried to explain the situation to the man on the phone and just begging them to get there soon.

   And so, you’d sat there, hand wrapped tightly around his and repeatedly telling him that he’d be okay. Then you saw the light die from his eyes, your tears momentarily stopping and breath freezing. He’d stopped moving and the house went dead silent: but it was only for a few seconds. Your screams had filled the house as you’d backed up against the wall, tears running down your face and eyes pinched shut. Your nails had dug crescents into your arms and the paramedics had dragged you from the house when they arrived.

   You weren’t sure if they gave you a sedative or if you’d just passed out, but you woke up in your own bed hours later. Tina had been there, sitting at the kitchen table, dried tears on her face. Out of pure rage and fresh misery, you’d lunged at her, screaming about how it was her fault. How if she’d been there, he still could’ve been alive because she knew what she was doing.

   She’d called the authorities and they’d arrived, restraining you as you cussed her out and threw threats her way. Eventually, you’d tired out and you went back to your room. You’d spent several days there, just staring at the wall and questioning why the universe let that happen. Lucas, Marie, and Chan-ri had stopped by, trying to get you to eat and talking softly to you until you begged them to leave.

   Today was the first day you finally managed to leave the house. You were pale, your hair was a mess, and people didn’t have to look closely to see the dark circles under your eyes. You’d left the second the funeral was over and had wandered aimlessly until you found a secluded bench to just let yourself out.

   The wind was harsh as you sat there, forcing yourself to calm down. You sniffled into your sleeve and then wiped at your eyes. Another sob escaped as you tried to look up and then you broke down all over again, pulling your knees up and letting yourself melt into a ball. The only family you really had left now was your mother, who you hadn’t seen in over four years.

“Y/N?”

   Your eyes narrowed when you glanced up. Woojin stood there, a teen boy with red hair standing beside him. You hadn’t seen the man for three weeks and seeing his face only seemed to tear at your heart even more. The memory in your dreams was just never enough. Your hand came up to cover your face as you hiccuped. If only the ground would swallow you whole and just let you disappear somewhere warm. Woojin exchanged a glance with the boy and he walked away, leaving you alone with the lavender-eyed man.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, kneeling down in front of you. His large hand found yours and wrapped tightly around it. The affection was odd, coming from someone so cut-off as him, but then the memory of the fundraiser came to your mind. Gosh, he truly did seem to be a teddy bear.

   You wanted to nod, you wanted to be able so say that you were at least okay but that was far from the truth. You felt a million miles away from being remotely “okay”. Everyone was slowly leaving and soon you would be alone in this terrible, dark place. And so, you shook your head and shamelessly let the tears fall.

   You weren’t sure what he was doing until you were completely pulled into his arms. You curled into a ball as the man scooped you up, holding you tightly against his solid chest. He started walking and you let your eyes shut as you just sobbed into his shirt. Who cared where he was taking you? At this point, you didn’t want to be anywhere.

   The walk was long and Woojin still carried you, his arms not even drooping in the slightest. You were both silent, even your own sobs had grown quiet.

“Do you have the key to your house?”

   You finally looked out from the cocoon of the man’s arms. Dread filled you as you stared at the house in front of you. Either way, you reached into your pocket and fished out the key ring, softly telling him it was the silver one. Your eyes flitted across his face as he struggled to open the door and then stumbled into your house.

   As if he knew the house, he made his way through the hallway and stepped into your room. Woojin was careful as he set you down, running a hand through your hair. He smiled at you, but the sympathy that lingered in the depths of his eyes ruined it. The blanket was pulled over you and you lay there, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. It was the sounds of his footsteps that had you glancing his way.

“Please don’t leave me here,” you insist, starting to sit up. The blue-haired man glanced at you, teeth digging into his lip as questions ran through his eyes. Finally, making up a decision, he slid out of his shoes and jacket. The floor creaked as he walked back towards the bed and slid into the other side. He pulled the blanket over him and his hand found yours under the blanket, giving it a tight squeeze to confirm that he would stay.

   Woojin leaned towards you until his face was just inches away. His breath fanned over your face and he stared at you, a deep sadness lingering in his eyes. You squeezed his hand back and curled up closer to him. A soft kiss was pressed to your forehead, your cheek, and then the corner of your mouth.

The next words that were whispered into the dimly lit room were left unanswered.

“I promise it’ll be okay, Y/N. I’ll make sure of it.”

   It was extremely warm when you woke up. You grumbled, scratching at your nose as you stretched out in bed. It took moments for you to finally wake up and then you noticed it: the face that was buried into your neck and the arm that was lazily thrown over your waist. Your eyes widened as you glanced behind you, seeing the messy blue-hair behind you. You quickly looked away, staring at the wall in front of you and trying to force the blush on your face to disappear.

   You managed to slide from his grip and you sat on the edge of the bed, vaguely remembering what led up to this. A soft exhale escaped the man behind you. He rolled over in his sleep and you watched as his hand searched the other side of the bed. You snorted and then looked away, a bitter feeling rushing through you.

You’re still alone.

   The carpet was cold on your feet as you moved through the house. It was nearly noon and you sighed, turning on the coffee machine. You looked out the window, watching as the trees waved obnoxiously in the wind. The house was silent for another few moments before Woojin appeared, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes and his hair a mess. His clothes were rumpled, but as he stood in the kitchen, he looked like a prince.

He tilted his head at you.

“You had a nightmare last night, didn’t you?” He stated.

You pressed your lips together.

“Maybe.”

   A soft breath escaped the man as he stepped up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist. His hair tickled your cheek. You avoided his curious stare. Then he pulled back, running a warm hand down your arm.

“I have something to take care of and then I’ll be right back,” he whispered. You didn’t reply, letting the man leave.

And then once you were sure he was gone, you broke down.

   You slid to the floor, pressing your face into your hands and just letting the wall fall. You sobbed and hiccupped, your shoulders heaving and body shaking. It was all such a mess. Last night, your mind plagued you with one thing: your world was being torn apart at the seams. And nobody could keep up to sew it back together.

   Reality truly was a cruel thing to come for the innocent. You’d lived your life to the best you could—always trying to help others, never arguing, and forcing a smile no matter what. But yet, here you were, alone in a house that was too big, surrounded by your own faults. Your hands shook as you pulled them away from your face and just stared.

Loneliness is the true test for humanity.

[whiplashed-maximoff]

Overwhelming Obstacles

Prompt: So basically reader is the new x-men recruit. She can heal people but not fully back to health. (that's another reason she's at the mansion is so she can learn to use her powers fully.) ... after apocalypse, reader helps heal peter's broken leg. (I know in the movie it healed in like a day, but for the sake of my head-cannon I'll just make up some bs like that Apocalypse did something weird to it or like idk) ... One night peter asks why isn't his leg healing faster and reader gets really upset/mad ... Peter apologizes and tells her that she'll get it one day and admits he likes her and she admits too. there's just a lot of fluff and cute relationship stuff. Requested By: @captain-maaarvel Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader Word Count: 2,182 Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, mentions of blood A/N: Okay first off sorry I shortened up the request for the prompt section I didn’t want it to take up a whole bunch of room and stuff (God bless at how detailed it is tho like y e s), second, this was really fun to write, and actually turned out much longer than I expected it would!

Overwhelming. That was the word you had chosen to describe your first week or so in the mansion.

   Chaotic didn't even begin to describe it; so much had happened in such a short span that you were having trouble keeping it all straight in your head. As the newest X-Men recruit, you had expected your healing powers would be tested, but not on your first day, and certainly not on an actual hurt person. It had been nerve wracking, even though you had known it was just a few small gashes and that you could heal those no problem. It was one thing to heal yourself, but it was something else to heal someone else while others watched.

   Outside of that, you hadn't had to use your powers again - you told the professor that you only knew how to heal basic gashes and scrapes, despite having known about your powers for a couple of years. It was hard to obtain the level of focus it took to heal anything outside of basic cuts, and you knew you would need training before you were able to do anything more. Hence, your presence in the mansion. But having to use your abilities on someone on your first day was the least of the reasons as to why your first week was chaos. The main reason was tall, with silver hair, super speed, and a ridiculously shit-eating sense of humor.

   Peter Maximoff.

   It was impossible to live in the mansion and not meet Peter, at least, if Peter wanted to know you. He was everywhere all the time, always busy with something, whether it was video games, pranks, or actual work. It was Peter who's wounds you healed your first day in the mansion, and since then it was as if he had made it his mission to befriend you. Not that you minded, of course. You didn't know anyone else in the mansion besides the professor, and Peter seemed as good a place as any to start making friends. He was just a handful. It was hard to keep up with him, most of the time, but if anyone asked you would definitely tell them it was worth it.

   In your first week alone after meeting Peter, you had participated in three different pranks - all on Scott, who you met shortly after the first prank - as well as a wild trip to the mall and an… explosive... incident in Chemistry class that you had no desire to relive. You didn't really regret any of it, though, and between Peter and your classes you managed to cultivate a group of friends in Scott, Jean, Kurt, and even Hank. Peter quickly became your best friend, however, and you spent most of your time with him.

   Over the next few months, you began to learn to control your power better, to learn to focus in on the problem and use your powers to fix it. It took closer to a year to figure out human anatomy and apply it to what you were doing. You found that flesh wounds were easier; you could reach out and feel the way a person's blood worked and how their tissue connected and use that to knit up deep gashes and bullet wounds and things like that. Organs and bones were harder, more complicated, and you still had trouble with mending anything terribly complex, but it was progress.

   Eventually, as you got better, you got called in more and more by the professor to help keep mutants alive while they were transported to a hospital. You had been able to help a few, keep them alive. Most of those had lived. But there were others, people you couldn't help, couldn't save, and those people haunted your sleep.

If only I'd been better, you thought, if only I could control my powers better.

   Some part of you knew that that train of thought was self-destructive, but you fell into it anyway. You beat yourself up after each failure, pushing yourself to work hard, be better. You threw yourself into your studies, so much so that it was starting to affect your health a bit, but you didn't care. At least, not at first. Not until Peter became your saving grace.

   He kept you sane, made sure you took breaks, made you eat. He made sure he told you that nothing would get better if you overworked yourself. You apologized all the time, thanking him for keeping you on track and healthy. It was a wonder Peter didn't just give up, and you constantly wondered why he kept putting up with the mess that was your mind. You’d even felt yourself falling in love with him, though you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. It was all going well, overall. You were getting better, little by little, slowly gaining confidence in your abilities and figuring out how to do more and more with your powers.

   Then came Apocalypse.

   You had been absolutely, positively, overwhelmingly overwhelmed when everyone came back from the battle and you saw their injuries. Having been left behind when the others were taken, you had plenty of time to worry about everyone, especially about Peter. Not that any of them were defenseless, it's just that you had a vague idea of what they were facing, and you didn’t want any of them to be hurt. Although you were fairly sure this was a futile hope, you could still cross your fingers and wish. Those hopes and wishes had been dashed when your friends returned to the decimated mansion.

   Most had scrapes, a dislocated joint here and there, a healthy dose of trauma, and in one specific case, a diagnosis of almost death - you thanked the heavens that you weren’t put in charge of that - but Peter was different. Normally, Peter’s injuries healed fairly quickly due to his abilities, but whatever Apocalypse had done when he broke Peter’s leg had rendered his abilities useless in this case. This left you with the job of trying to repair it. You’d never managed to repair broken bones before, but you did your best, coming to Peter’s room every day and working slowly but surely to repair small sections at a time.

   You hadn’t stayed that long the first time, only testing the waters with your power to try and heal a small section of the bones in his leg, but each day your visits got longer and longer due to Peter’s constant chatter. Not that you minded. He enjoyed your company, and you his, so you stayed longer and longer, working on slightly larger sections each time to delay leaving. Each time when you went to leave, Peter always whined, asking you to stay longer because he was lonely, and you always say no. Up until one night, about a week after your work began.

   It was later than usual, and between your exhaustion over the amount of energy you’d expended and Peter’s whining for you to stay, you caved and stretched out next to him in the bed. After that, it became a ritual. You would work on Peter’s leg and then stretch out in his bed, and the two of you would talk well into the night. A few days after this ritual began, however, you could feel Peter getting more restless than usual. It wasn’t hard to tell; Peter was used to being able to move all the time, and his restricted movement was causing all of his energy to get more and more pent up.

“What’s bugging you, Pete?”

“I was just… wondering why my leg isn’t healing faster. I mean, I thought-” He doesn’t get a chance to finish as you sit up suddenly in his bed, eyes blazing with anger as you train them on his face.

“Is my best not good enough for you? Do you think I’m not trying my fucking hardest, here? Do you even know how damned hard it is to figure out how to heal shit?” His eyes went wide and his mouth opened as if to say something, but you just kept going. “Do you know how much blood I have on my hands? How many people I couldn’t save because my abilities weren’t good enough? Do you understand how fucking hard that is on me to know I could have done more if I was better at controlling my abilities? I’m doing the best I can, alright?” You draw your knees to your chest, resting your chin on your knees, snorting softly. “How ironic that I have the ability to heal others, yet I have all this emotional shit inside me that I can’t heal.”

“Y/N,” Peter’s voice was soft as he said your name, and you felt the bed shift and Peter pushed himself up to a sitting position. “I’m so sorry.” You didn’t bother to look over at him, you didn’t want to.

“I’ll never be able to use my powers to their full potential,” you whisper, closing your eyes.

“Y/N! That’s not true! Didn’t you just say it was hard to try and control your power? You’ll get it one day-”

“When?” You open your eyes, your head whirling to look at him. “When? Because it’s been months since I started learning how to control my powers, and I can barely heal your broken leg. It’s been over a week and I’ve gotten, what? Barely halfway done? What bullshit.”

“Everyone learns at their own pace,” Peter says softly, “I’m sorry for making it sound like I didn’t think you were good enough, I’m just so used to my powers helping everything heal quickly and… well. I’m sorry.” A silence stretches between the two of you for a long moment before you finally open your mouth to respond.

“I’m sorry I snapped.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, I was the one being insensitive. You’re doing the best you can, and I got impatient and made it sound like I was insulting your competency, which isn’t what I meant to do. I’m just frustrated.”

“I know you are, Pete, I’m just… sick of not being able to do as much as I know I could,” you mutter, resting your head back on your knees.

“You’ll get there, Y/N.” You could feel his eyes on you, and you took a deep breath.

“Will I? It certainly doesn’t feel like it.”

“You will,” he says firmly, and you turn your head a bit to look at him. “You will. You’ve already made loads of progress, and you’ll make loads more. It may take a while, but you’ll get there.”

“How do you know that?” You couldn’t possibly see yourself getting any better, being any more useful than a basic healer.

“Because I believe in you,” he muttered, leaning his head against your shoulder, “and I believe you can - and will - do it.”

“But why?” You looked over at him, desperate for an answer.

“Because I love you!” Both of you sat in silence for a moment, and you could tell the words had slipped from Peter’s lips, but they were out in the open now, and you had no idea what to say. Peter sat up straight, turning to look at you fully. “I love you, Y/N.”

“Oh,” you managed, your face flushing, “I- what?” You couldn’t process what he was saying, what he meant. It was Peter’s turned to flush now as he stumbled over his words.

“Well, I… I love you. A lot, actually.” There was a pause as you studied his face, unable to form words, and he watched you nervously. “Sorry, I can go. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot or make you uncomfortable.”

“Peter, this is your room.” He froze halfway out of trying to hastily shimmy out of bed. It wasn’t what you wanted to say, but it was all you could manage at the moment.

“Right, um, well I-” You took a deep breath, and then cut him off.

“I love you too, Peter,” you breathed, finally managing to say what you’d meant to say. You’d been harboring your feelings for a while, refusing to acknowledge them, until this moment when they came raging to the surface.  “I have for a while, I think.” Peter grinned, then scooted closer, draping himself in front of your feet.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, you fucking dork,” you say the words fondly, then stretch out your legs, laying them across Peter’s chest.

“I wasn't kidding, you know. I really do think you’re going to get better at healing. In fact, I think you’re going to be one of the greatest.”

“Flatterer,” you mumble, though the words fill you with warmth. You lay down on the bed again, and Peter, moving out from under your calves, moves up to wrap his arm around your waist.

“It’s the truth,” he whispers in your ear, “if anyone can, my love, its you.” You fell asleep wrapped in his arms, happier and with more hope in yourself than you had in a long time.

[yourkeeperoftherunners]

Chance [6]

Plot: AU You were born in tragic circumstances, exhibiting a hyper-awareness to your surroundings and situations growing up. For a while you blamed the fabled figure in the hooded cloak with the scythe for robbing you of your picture perfect life, until you encountered him years later. Turns out he’s not the only one and there’s a logical explanation for why you turned out different from your peers.

Rating: PG-13 (Language, death during childbirth, grim reaper mythology, discussion of body anatomy, jealousy)

Characters: Reaper!RM x Female Reader feat. mention of the other members

Notes: A dream I had last night, plus a comic featuring a grim reaper giving a mother in childbirth a few more minutes to live and a comic about death taking the breath away from a girl served as the inspiration for this story. I know assigning Reaper mythology to the band isn’t a new concept but after seeing the last two inspirations, it got me thinking about the cases where those figures aren’t trying to harm the individual but they express some emotional difficulties carrying out their jobs because it is difficult.

[5] | [7]

“Of course.”

You stood next to him, leaving a bit of space between you as the waves crashed onto the shore. The cold water rushed around your ankles and you watched the water recede for a little bit.

The reaper adjusted his sunglasses and shot you a sideways look. “I’m...sorry for seeming like a recluse Y/N, but it’s hard for me to tolerate your friend back there.” He paused, pressing his lips together for a moment before he continued. 

“He’s not a bad guy, but honestly he’s kind of –”

“A headache? He’s not for everyone,” you confessed. “Relax Mr. Jealous, I’m not interested in him. He’s actually the one who likes me, but I hardly know him.”

Namjoon raised a brow and he lowered his sunglasses with his index finger at your comment.

You snorted as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Come on you didn’t know this Mr. I–Know–a–Lot–About–Your–Life–Already? Tae told me that the guy’s had this one-sided crush on me even though we never interacted much beyond a friendly hi in the halls. Well today, I don’t think I’d date him, or even hang with him alone after everything that’s happened. He’s kind of in my business and I really can’t stand that.”

“Oh...” the reaper murmured as his lips parted slightly.

“While we’re at it, I’m not into Jin romantically and don’t bother to deny it,” you added, "I remembered you bristled when we first met and I joked about wanting him as my reaper,”

Namjoon reddened and mumbled that he didn’t mean to look jealous. “Honestly, I’ve never, well...I’m new to experiencing jealousy and stuff. I’ve not handled many girls in my job – mostly a lot of guys, elderly people, and some really bad types.”

“No reaper girlfriend to take the edge off?” you teased back.

“Huh? Oh no, no, no! I mean, I’ve worked with a couple female reapers, but most of them don’t think of me in that way,” he admitted.

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked him straight on. “Care to tell me how you knew I was here? I get the feeling this isn’t a coincidence running into you.”

Namjoon sighed as he removed his sunglasses and placed them in the pocket of his shirt. “Would you mind if we went somewhere else to talk?”

“I...um, didn’t mean to cut your beach day short,” Namjoon sighed as you headed for the car.

You shrugged your shoulders as you tried to locate your car with the key. It was a shame to leave before the sun went down, but you wanted answers. Your friends were wistful about you leaving early but you were relieved to put some space between you and Hoseok, especially after your outburst. He gave you some space once you returned to the group, but tried to offer you a hug after saying goodbye to your friends. You simply patted him on the back and told him good luck in his third year of performing arts college.

“Is Yoongi going to be okay getting home?” you asked.

“Yeah, hyung is probably going to portal home or if he plays his cards right, he’s probably going to charm your blonde friend into letting him hang out longer,” Namjoon confessed. “He’s got a soft spot for really sweet, obedient types.”

You snickered at the thought of Jimin melting at Yoongi’s smile, agreeing to do almost anything the reaper asked of him. Once you located your car, you unlocked it and climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Where to?” you asked as you started the car.

Namjoon slid into the passenger’s seat and buckled his seat belt. He adjusted the shoulder part of the seat belt as he offered up his place.

“Um you live around here?” you asked, shooting him a sideways glance.

“Ye-yeah, well it’s an old place my dad secured because he loved the area,” Namjoon mumbled. “Jin, Yoongi, and I share it now, but it should be just us. I mean, unless you can think of another place you’d prefer?”

You looked over your shoulder for cars driving behind you and slowly backed out of your spot. “We can go there.”

“It’s...clean...”

“Were you expecting it to be messy?” Namjoon groaned as he looked back at you. “C’mon!”

“Hey in my defense, I imagined the only reason why you mixed up your socks was due to a messy place!” you shot back.

“Actually Jin threw his stuff in the dryer with mine and...yeah you know the rest,” Namjoon sighed. He gestured to the living room, pointing to the sofa while he entered the kitchen next door. He opened the fridge and called out drink options for you to enjoy.

“Just water please.”

Namjoon pulled a glass from a cupboard and filled it with a pitcher from the fridge. He closed the door and walked back, holding out the glass to you.

You thanked him before taking a tiny sip and holding the glass in your hands. You watched as he took a seat across from you on a stool from the kitchen, fingers gently grazing his chin.

“So...why did your dad save my mom? Did she know about him?” you asked after a long pause.

“She never knew him and he never made an effort to reveal himself to her,” Namjoon replied, “but he was never the type to interact with his assigned humans. He’d only show up when it was time and try to take them away without making a big deal or causing too much stress and pain. But your mom –”

“She was special in some kind of way?” you guessed.

He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking for a few moments. “I think...he grew fond of your mom. See, he saw her when she was your age when he had to handle a classmate of hers with a drug problem. The council told him that his next assigned human was at the same party and he saw your mom showing compassion for someone outside, think someone stood up that person? Well anyways, he was kinda concerned he had to do a two-in-one deal that night, but the council told him she had some time left – they only wanted to let him know that he could see the next one.”

Namjoon shifted in his seat, fingers lacing together in his lap. “Now normally he’d wait until it was closer to the actual time, but he couldn’t help but watch over your mom as she grew up.”

“Your dad had a crush on my mom?” you asked before taking another sip from the glass.

Namjoon nodded and you tried to picture someone like him, shyly observing your mother from a distance.

“It was...unheard of back then,” Namjoon confessed. “He never said anything to anyone else, except me, but most reapers didn’t get attached to their assigned humans. But he knew he couldn’t court your mom and convince her to be his – he didn’t think it was possible.”

You nodded before finishing the rest of the water. Remembering what Namjoon said about you during your first encounter, you prompted him to explain why it was a big deal about you being hyper aware.

“I said he transferred some of his abilities to you by extending your mom’s life clock,” Namjoon said. “In turn, that allows you to pick up on details about people and their fates. Maybe not as far out as when they’re going to die, but enough to see the end result of their actions. I guess you could say that makes you –”

“I’m part reaper now?” you finished. “I mean, I’ve been part reaper my whole life?”

He nodded, unlacing his fingers. “That’s why the council was unhappy with him for meddling. Now, a few people have done what he’s done, mostly for a cleaner death, but they only do it for a couple of minutes and it’s a single person.”

“But I hadn’t been delivered yet,” you added.

“Yeah and it affected you because you survived and would live past your mother,” Namjoon replied. “Plus the length of time had a lot to do with it – he gave her almost a half hour so she could deliver you and hold you one time. Now, if he had been a problematic reaper, they would have taken away his immortality and wiped his memories. But it was the first time he ever did it, so I think that’s why he only got a warning. He chose to retire early, which everyone seemed okay with. Well, maybe not those closest to him, but the council moved on and let him be.”

You played with the glass in your hands, feeling sorry for Namjoon’s father. Hearing this from his son certainly made you soften your harsh opinion of him prior to all of this; you assumed he was a heartless being robbing you of a picture perfect family. But knowing this and remembering that your dad said the delivery was very risky, it was inevitable.

“Were you the original reaper assigned to me? Please don’t get offended – it’s a question.”

“Yes and the council wanted me to confirm how much of my father’s abilities you inherited,” Namjoon admitted. “I only told them that it was small stuff like random guesses at a party and they’re not concerned about you.”

“You sure you didn’t lobby for me because your dad liked my mom and maybe you liked me?” you joked.

The reaper blinked and sputtered as he got up off the stool, taking the glass from your hands. He struggled to form a coherent reply to your question as he made his way to the kitchen to put the glass in the dishwasher. “Look, I never did any of that! They just gave me your name and information and said I was the one responsible for you. I mean, I liked what I’ve seen and observed so far, but I didn’t do anything to get you as my assigned human!”

You laughed as you studied his flushed face, shaking your head lightly. “It’s too bad you’re sort of dead, I know tons of girls would be throwing themselves at you.”

“Wait what?” he asked, whipping his head over his shoulder.

“Oh come on, you’re handsome, you got that cool, dark vibe going on in your outfits, and the dimples are adorable,” you replied. “I can think of a couple who’d be down to bone you.”

Namjoon raised a brow and pouted. He returned to the living room and placed his hands on his hips. “Are you saying I’m bony? Hey, I may not look it, but I do go to the gym every now and then!” He held his arms out and met your eyes.

“Come here – hug me and you’ll see for yourself,” he sighed, motioning to you. “Nothing bad’s gonna happen, I promise!”

You sighed as you stood up, walking over to Namjoon and allowing yourself to be wrapped in his arms. You snaked yours around his torso and he gently pulled you flush against his body. His warm, clean scent engulfed you and you closed your eyes as it filled your nostrils. Your head rested against his broad chest, your body pressed against a flat stomach with slightly defined abs and something else quite big and prominent.