#i see my partner doodle in my notebooks when they make phone calls and are on hold and i think its so beautiful

[sucktacular]

friendly reminder that if you wanna draw you should draw because I wanna see it and reblog it and eat it so it'll be with me forever

you MADE something!!! that straight up DIDNT exist before??? that's so incredibly metal and amazing and sick as fuck im so proud of you

[axels-corner]

Chapter 2 of the coffee shop au

Notes: Chapter 2 of the coffee shop au! You can read the first chapter here.

Words: 3105

Characters: Kenric, Oralie, Terik, Emery, Kesler

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48995623/chapters/124125160

By the time Monday rolled around, Kenric felt completely prepared for anything life could throw at him, of course until the person he was supposed to mentor walked through the door, playing that iconic sound of a bell, and he realized exactly where he knew that name and face from.

Kenric walked into class on the first day of school, he had gotten into Foxfire! That's where all the greats went! He realized a key thing though almost immediately, all of the seats had been taken except for one in the middle of the class next to a blonde girl who was doodling something in her notebook. He gathered his courage and walked over

“Hey, can I sit here?” not knowing what he would do if she said no, she looked up at him and then around the full classroom when she came to the same conclusion that he had she moved her stuff aside and gestured for him to sit. They sat in silence until the professor walked in, her doodling, and him awkwardly scrolling through his phone. The professor up front called out roll then introduced themselves as Marion. They talked a little about the class and what would happen during it, the class was a baking class. Professor Marion then announced that their first project would be with a random partner to create a dessert that they enjoyed, as a kinda shallow dip into the water to experiment a little and see what they knew to set a baseline. At the end of the semester they would make the same thing with the same partner to see how far they had come, as another part to be able to reflect they had to document the entire process. They started to read of a list of partners getting about halfway down the list before reading

“Oralie Edlyn and-”

“Kernic!” Someone hissed in his ear, it took him a minute before he recognized it was Terik

“What?”

“I thought you had passed out.”

“How would that be possible I'm still standing, and my eyes are open.”

“Because you've been staring at the same spot for two minutes,” he cut himself off then gasped “oh my gosh, you like her!” Kenric felt his face turn the same red as his hair and he grabbed Terik's arm and pulled him into the closet nearby, which had a broom beside it that fell down every time someone walked by to fast, they all kept forgetting too move it. Muttering an excuse to Emery who was talking to Oralie as they went past.

“It's nothing like that!” Terik had a smirk on his face

“Really? Because you're trying awfully hard to convince me otherwise. Do you really think that makes me believe you have no history with her?” Kenric took a deep breath

“I will admit, you're semi right-”

“Ha! I knew it.”

“But, it was a long time ago, I was just surprised to actually see her.”

“So you two do have history? Wait, is it that girl you used to date, senior year?” Kenric twisted the ring on one of his fingers

“Yes, but I don't want to talk about it.” Terik raised his hands in surrender

“Don't worry I won't pry, I remember that being a sore subject for you, but if you want to tell me what happened you will, if you don't then don't, I'm here if you need to talk though either way.” and with that he walked out of the closet, luckily the broom had not falled down and locked them inside like it had done to Velia and Clarette a couple months ago. Kenric pulled out his phone and used it as a mirror to make sure he didn't still look like a strawberry and followed Terik.

“Ah, there he is.” He heard Emery's voice almost immediately after and turned his head to face him

“Yeah?” It was just then that Oralie stepped into view

“Kenric this is Oralie, you will be training her, Oralie this is Kenric.” Kenric nodded and stuck a hand out to shake hers which she luckily didn't leave him hanging. He didn't even know if she still remembered him, he wasn't sure if he would rather she did or not, but that wasn't what he should be thinking about,

“Where do you want me to start?” He asked Emery who thought about it for a second, hand on his chin striking his beard he'd been trying to grow and had actually made pretty good progress now. he then nodded and said

“Give her a tour of the place.”

“What about after that?” Emery gave him a look before realizing

“Oh, I don't mean just our part, I mean the entire place, show her the rest of Eternalia including Mystrium, Atlantis, Loamnore, Ravagog, Lumenaria, Marintrylla, Gildingham, and the Wanderling Woods.”

“That may take a while, can you guys hold the fort down with only ten councilors?”

“It's supposed to be a pretty light day with the snow storm coming through, plus we've done it with seven councilors before.” Kenric knew it wasn't just the snowstorm, but also the bad press.

“What happened then?” Oralie asked sounding exactly like he remembered.

“Long story short I told them not to eat the raw cookie dough, they ate the raw cookie dough.” Bronte said entering the conversation with a monotone voice

“No regrets, it tasted amazing.” Kenric told him with a wide grin, though he had learned his lesson Terik not so much. Oralie giggled, he had forgotten what her laugh sounded like, it was sweet, he had missed it. Bronte and Emery rolled their eyes.

“You two should probably get going if you don't want to be here all day.” and with that he and Oralie were off.

The first place they went was Mysterium, it was a mall a short walk away from Foxfire, which was the boarding school, and across the street from the Council cafe. Who's coffee was very popular with the staff of Foxfire. Marion usually came buy at least once a day to buy a drink and chat for a while if they weren't to busy.

The two were silent for the most part, Oralie looked around the shops with a look of wonderment like she was seeing it with whole new eyes.

“It's changed a lot since I've been here.” she noted, Kenric nodded

“They renovated recently.” he stuck to the story he'd been told if anyone asked why something was different, because of the suspicious circumstances surrounding the fire they didn't want anyone already in the know to know. Even though the story was out that an employe had been fired for trying to start a fire, the public didn't know he succeeded, but Oralie wasn't going to play by the rules.

“I heard about the fire, I'm glad no one was majorly injured, or killed.” Kenric sputtered

“How do you know about that?” she couldn't have heard it from the news, they wouldn't have known. She turned, looking at him over her shoulder and winked before turning back.

“I have my ways.” Before Kenric could ask what that meant, she changed the subject, “I remember when I was in Firefox and would come here almost everyday with my friends.” Kenric took the chance to ask the other question on his mind that had been there since he had seen her walk in the door that morning,

“Who where they, and do you still keep in touch? If you don't mind me asking” she shook her hand in a so so motion.

“Some moved away and we lost touch, and I see others weekly. As for who they are I doubt you'll know them but there was Edaline, Gray, Della, Alden, as well as Quilin, Elwin, and Livy.” He nodded his head, he remembered them, which just made him even more confused, had she forgotten him, had she intentionally left him of the list? Those weren't likely especially the last one since they where having a civil conversation, considering that the last time they had talked she had told him essentially she hated him and never wanted to see him again. He was so distracted that he missed Oralie's question and had to ask her to repeat it,

“What's that shop? I don't remember it from when I was in Foxfire.” she pointed a finger at a rainbow shop, with curved walls, and off center roof which added to the charm. Kenric felt a grin settle back on his face at the sight of one of his best friends shops, he was proud to say he helped to build it. He gestured over his shoulder for Oralie to follow

“Come on I'll give you a tour of the place.”

“Aren't you already giving me a tour?” Kenric thought for a minute then chuckled

“It'll be like a mini tour.” Oralie laughed as well

“Do we have time for that?” Kenric shrugged

“Emery did say we had the entire day to explore, it's important to know the area around where you work, never know when it'll come in handy.” and with that they entered with the door burping to announce them.

“Hello there! How can I help you today?” A voice called from behind the counter as a head of strawberry-blond hair appeared

“Just giving the new councilor a tour.” Kenric told him, upon hearing his voice Kesler's head snapped up and he stepped out from behind the counter

“Kenric! It's good to see you again,” Kenric returned the embrace

“It's good to see you as well Kesler.” He turned to Oralie

“Oralie, meet Kesler one of my best friends.” Kesler laughed

“Not even the best friend?”

“You and Terik are tied, and Kesler meet Oralie the newest councilor.” She waved

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” Kesler held his hand out and Oralie shook it

“It's a pleasure to meet you too ma'am,” turning to Kenric “so are you two looking to buy, or just passing through?”

“Oh, we're just passing through, I'm giving her a tour of the place, good to know you're surroundings that's what Bronte always says.” Kesler nodded for a minute before his face lit up

“I just remembered I have something for you, wait here a minute!” With that he darted into the back vaulting the counter, Kenric looked back at Oralie

“So what do you think?” she nodded tracing a hand along the walls

“I like it, it has personality. I prefer that to just cookie cutter stores.” They sat in silence for a few moments “Did he build this himself?” Kenric joined her where she stood looking at one of the boards in the wall

“Me, Terik, and Juline helped him but we built it from scratch, how could you tell?”

“The little crack in the drywall shows a board, and also there's little notes on the it, it tells a story.” She points at the board with a drawing on it and the words the turtly awesome five on the board with a drawing of the four of them and a turtle.

“Do you want to know the story behind it?” Kenric asked feeling nostalgic Oralie nodded

“I think that would be interesting, I'm curious where the turtle came from.” Kenric laughed

“It was the summer after we had graduated Foxfire..”

Kenric sat on the second level in a tank top with shorts drinking a slushie. It was summer time, and the sun was making it's presence known hanging high in the sky. Kenric leaned over a little farther, making sure to hang onto one of the support beams

“How's it going?” Terik looked up at him wiping sweat away

“You do realize you're going to fall right?” He wore a t-shirt in his signature green, and blue jeans. Kenric had no clue as to how he was not melting like the wicked witch did when sprayed with water, though being sprayed with water did sound nice at this moment. Kenric gestured with the hand holding his slushie, blue raspberry

“I'm holding on I won't fall.” Terik rolled his eyes

“If you do fall I'm not catching you.” Kenric laughed looking up at the sky through the glass roof that was open right now, how glad he was that he didn't have to clean that, he didn't mind heights, but being that high? No thank you is all he had to say to that. He glanced back at Terik, he wasn't measuring to cut a piece for the supports like Kenric thought he was, he was drawing something. Kenric slipped down making sure to place his hands so that they wouldn't slip, and same with his feet. He was sure that even if Terik had been joking, he wouldn't be fast enough to catch him, the boy may be fast and had even won nationals but he wasn't the flash. Kenric made his way to Terik's side looking over his shoulder, seeing the turtle that Terik had adopted about five years ago, named Bubbles. The surprising thing was that he wasn't on Terik's shoulder but on the board, as a drawing. Kenric almost thought it was the real thing at first.

“I never knew you could draw.”

“I took art classes for years at Foxfire, I found it relaxing.” Kenric nodded a memory popping into his brain reminding him of the times Terik would not go to bed until three in the morning as he had forgotten about an art project. Kenric asked him every time if he was going to do it again, and he always said yes.

“What are you drawing?” Terik without looking up said

“The five of us, you, me, Kenric, Juline, and of course Bubbles.”

“Why are you doing it behind a board? It's not going to be seen.”

“Kesler mentioned that he liked it when buildings could tell their stories, and that he liked seeing buildings with small cracks or holes in the drywall, because to him it didn't matter if it wasn't perfect because it told a story.”

“So what's your plan?”

“Why would you assume I have a plan?”

“Because you always have a plan.” Terik chuckled

“You're right there, me and Juline came up with the idea that we're going to put a little mark on the drywall where the boards drawing is, and make sure to make the drywall mud stuff thin there. Then when we're moving the shelves in, or something like that. I don't know she's figuring out the logistics of it all.”

“How are you going to keep him from finding out?”

“His oldest brother is retiring so we have about four weeks because they're going to drive which will take about five days, then stay there for about six days, then they're going on a cruise, and then they're driving home which is about another five days.”

“Wait, you said that in plural, is it just going to be you and me?” Terik nodded, but then shook his head

“Well, maybe, but I used to room with Darek and Noland, on track trips cause we were all runners, and they're about three years older than you which is why you never met them. Anyways they said they're willing to help, they also said they'd ask Emery as well since he's good with at doing mud and stuff like that, he renovated his house last year as a diy project.” Kenric's jaw dropped “What?” Terik asked turning around to Kenric

“They're councilors that's like the most famous coffee shop in town.” Terik shrugged turning back

“So? I mean it's an amazing position, amazing pay, but they're still human. Under all the glitz and the glamour they breathe, like us, eat like us, and live like us.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Of course it does, I said it.”

“Really?”

“Of course name one time I've said something that doesn't make sense?”

“Charred toast.” Terik slammed his pencil down, barely containing his laughter as he stuck his finger in Kenric's face

“It is crispy, and good and you know it!”

“And that's basically how it happened.” Oralie finished laughing

“Does he?”

“Still like charred toast? Yes, but it's not as bad these days, ever since he set the fire alarm off because it was smoking he doesn't set the temperature as high.”

“How did he discover burnt toast?”

“That is a story for him to tell and for another time.” Just as he finished Kesler came out of the back room with a plate of cookies and asked

“Telling the story of the turtely awesome five board?”

“Yep.”

“I remember when that shelf box went through the drywall I couldn't believe it was that thin, it had barely grazed it, then I saw that and realized.” Kenric laughed

“I remember the look on your face.” Kesler joined him

“I'm sure you did.” He handed the cookies to Kenric “here, Juline made cookies but we couldn't eat them all so she suggested to share with you and Terik.”

“Thank you Kesler, tell Juline I said hi and thank you as well please.”

“I will, I hope you two have a good day, this place is big it's easy to get lost.” Kenric nodded to him

“We'll be careful, and even if we get lost, well it'll be a fun adventure as I say.” and with that they said their goodbyes and where out the door, but not before Kesler slipped a note into Kenric's pocket as they hugged that read

I thought she hated your guts? What changed?” Kenric saw Oralie looking over to read what it said so he folded it up and put in his pocket, he'd text Kesler later and fill him in, to Oralie he said

“Nothing exciting just a couple of ingredients he asked me to get for his shop.” He saw Oralie nod but could tell she didn't believe him, before she could pry he said “Next stop the Sanctuary!” Striking a pose like a dramatic adventurer.

Coffee Shop au taglist: (if you want to be added or removed just let me know)

@winterfireice @official-kenralie-fanbase @antisocialdork  

[sunasjellyfruit]

First post hehe. Just a bunch of ideas that I have for this boy because I absolutely love him.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me if something's wrong :)

Suna soft headcanons

This man seems like the type of student that's literally a mess in class. Like, he would take a nap in the middle of the class while holding your hand (even if he knows that it bothers you, he just likes contact :(), or getting his AirPods to listen to music while the teacher is explaining something, handing you one because he knows that you both have the same music taste. And he will randomly start doodling in the corners of your notebook.

Study dates with him are basically his s/o going to his house, them both leaving their bags in the floor and laying in his bed together to take a nap, or to watch some Netflix, or to just be in silent while Suna strokes his s/o hair.

During cold seasons he would gladly grab your hand, and it would be so fucking pleasing because they're always warm.

If you both happen to be awake in the middle of the night, he would propose to cook something (like instant ramen or a pizza) and he would play music just to dance with you in the middle of the kitchen, with the moon peeking through the window and only a few lights on.

He loves night walks. He doesn't care if it's going on a sudden car ride around the town or a relaxing walk in the silent streets. He would be joking and laughing the entire time.

His Instagram is so aesthetic even though it doesn't have much photos. But he has a story highlight with just you. Like, photos of you, videos, and a lot of bullshit. He has another one of the Miya twins.

You two adore to joke (and bother) the twins. Whenever you go to the gym when he has practice, he purposely kisses you just to make Tsumu jealous. You two are a menace together.

His phone is also full of pictures of you. You might find some of them horrible but he lives them, he thinks that you look absolutely precious in every one of them, even in that one of you sleeping with drool falling from your mouth.

He adores when you wear his hoodies. Well, not only his hoodies, you kind of like own his whole closet but, he also has things from your closet so we can call it sharing. But when you wake up from a nap and he sees you, half asleep in his bed, with one of his hoodies and nuzzling against his chest, he can't help but leave a kiss on your temple.

And he would take care of you so well if you were sick like, he would be so worried but he wouldn't show it not to worry you :(. It doesn't matter if you just have sore throat, some fever or if you're almost dying in your bed, this man would be by your side 24/7. He would have all medicines and painkillers in your nightstand, a bottle of water always full, and he would even give you cuddles.

He's your number 1 supporter in everything. You're insecure about the new clothes you just bought? In his eyes you look beautiful. You got bad grades in a subject? It's okay, he's there for you to calm you down and then he's gonna help you to study that subject. You're having problems with your parents/family? He's gonna give you the best advices and he's going to reassure you that he will go with you if you need him.

He's the best partner you would want :(

And he's always up for adventures. You want to dye your hair because you're bored? Let's go. You want to spend the entire afternoon playing videogames? He'll play with you and he's not gonna let you win easily. You want to get a new piercing? He's getting one too.

You're never gonna get bored with him lol. Arcade dates, cat-cafe dates, modern art museum dates, everything you can think of.

And if he ever finds you having any doubts or bad thoughts about yourself, just know that he will do everything he can and more to support you and make you smile again. To Suna you're perfect, even if he doesn't show it a lot.

He's not the biggest fan of pda but he will hold your hand in public, he'll also get an arm around your shoulders and maybe even give you a kiss.

Oh but when you two are alone or with your friends? Oh boy, he's another person. His hands are on your waist, on you ass, on your tight if you're sitting, basically he's touching you, holding you. It's not because he's possessive or jealous, he trusts you and his friends, it's just his nature. The team is already used to your make out sessions in the middle of the park when you all go out together.

Talking about makeing out, oh my god he just loves it. He's obsessed with your lips (with your body in general but, you know). He'll start by kissing you softly, holding your neck, and if you don't end the kiss immediately then he knows he can continue. One of his hands will probably hold your waist, and well, and the other lands on your ass softly. Just grab his neck and he'll lose his mind. Or bite his lower lip. Yeah... You all know where this goes.

If you're ever having a bad day just know that he'll drop everything that he has to be with you. Even if it means skipping practice (please tell him to go back, the team probably needs him), he'll do it if it means that you'll be feeling better.

Speaking of skipping things, ask him to skip some classes with you and he's gonna gladly accept. He knows how to escape from high school like, dude he has done it so many times, this boy is like a gangster at this point 😭

And he's so hot like, Suna babe I need you.

He's hot and he knows it. He knows how to drive you crazy. Most of the time he doesn't need to do anything but, sometimes (sometimes means a lot of times ok?) he likes to do this things of stretching so his t-shirt lifts showing his abdomen, or flexing his arms to scratch his shoulder or his back.

And his hands? Have you seen this men hands? They drive you(me) crazy. And he knows it, and the funny part is that he makes this jokes of "I know you think my hands are pretty but they would look prettier on your neck". And sometimes the stop being a joke. Just sometimes. OKEY STOPPING HERE HEHE

Alright going back to the soft!Suna hours. He would hold you so tight while sleeping, as if he was afraid of letting you go. And in the morning he would be the "I wasn't holding you, you were hugging me really hard" type.

But in reality he's just a soft boy for you. Call him babe and he will melt. He also answers to "dude" but he will have a really serious and bothered face.

He's probably gonna call you something like sweetheart, babe, maybe princess. Or just your name, this men is a basic boy don't ask for much please.

If you're short (like me) he'll laugh and make fun about your height (and will purposely put things in high places so you don't reach them) but if someone makes fun about it, he'll beat them up.

He'd also memorize most of your favourite things. Fav coffe, fav colour, fav band, fav tv show/anime. He has a good memory. Very good indeed.

He sometimes needs his time alone, his space (guys he's an aquarius just like me, I know what I'm talking about). Just make sure to check on him once or twice a day, not to overwhelm him and he'll be back into your arms in a few days.

As a conclusion, he's a soft boy for you, he loves you, you're his everything and all those cheesy things that we all love.

Alright I can't think of anything else for the moment but I might do a part two at some point. Who knows.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

The Baby Project | Julie Molina

Requested: Yes/No

hold on wait because I’ve got something here— julie x fem reader— and like you know how school pairs you up with people for the whole ‘take care of a baby project’ or whatever it’s called— that with Julie molina and like she and reader develop feelings— oh yeah

A/N: This was kinda hard, not gonna lie! Thanks @calamitykaty​ for sharing your ‘experience’ with baby projects in high school lol. Love you! 

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Julie Molina

Song(s) used: Heaven cover by Boyce Avenue 

Warnings: Just a bunch of fluff! 

Words:  2,914

“Julie and y/n.” You perked up at the mention of your name, even more so at the mention of the name of your crush. 

Julie Molina. Los Feliz High’s rising star. She went from not singing a note for a year to opening for Panic! at the Disco at the Orpheum with her hologram band Julie and The Phantoms. You were aware of what she’d gone through with losing her mother and with it, her love for music. For years, you’ve admired her from afar, watching her blossom into this young rockstar that just belonged on the stage with those three cute boys by her side. You’d never even dared utter a word to her, even if your best friend, Amy told you to at least say hi. A star like Julie wouldn’t have the time to even talk to a ‘nobody’ like you, let alone go out on a date with one. 

So, when Mister Adams called out both your names for the baby project for your Child Development class, your insides heated up while your heart started beating faster. Especially when the Latina girl turned around to look at you and give you an acknowledging smile. The world seemed to stop all at once, and it made you wonder if you were even still alive at all. 

“You have the rest of the class to start getting to know your babies and partners and begin thinking of names together. You’re going to make a birth announcement for your child together and it will be the first assignment you’ll be graded on,” mister Adams’ voice droned on about the project, but your mind had already wandered back to Julie. 

She had her head propped up in her hand, her long, elegant fingers disappearing into the mop of curls that beautifully laid over her shoulders. You had always admired how healthy Julie’s locks looked. Her hair was so glossy and clearly taken care of. And her style. Her style was impeccable. Today, she was wearing your favorite outfit of hers. A baby blue, ditsy floral dress with a white T-shirt underneath it and a fuzzy bear coat thrown over it. Paired with her white doodled-on sneakers, it was the prettiest outfit you had ever seen. But your all-time-favorite thing of hers, looks-wise, was the little gap between her teeth. It made her look so innocent and perfectly imperfect. 

“Get to it!” mister Adams clapped his hands together, waking you up from your hazy daydream. Before you can properly register what’s happening, Julie had reached your desk already and taken a seat next to you with her gap-toothed smile plastered on her face. 

“Hi,” she greeted. 

Your hands started to shake as you stumbled over your next words, “Hey. I--I’m y/n.” 

A giggle erupts from Julie’s mouth as she placed her hand on top of yours. For a second, you swore you could feel a spark of electricity going from her hand to yours. Julie didn’t acknowledge it, so you must’ve imagined it, you thought. 

“I know,” she said as mister Adams came over and handed them their baby in the black carrier. “Thank you, mister A.” The forty-something man smiled down at the two of you before making his way to the next duo. 

Julie turned to you, “So, how shall we name this little rascal?” she asked. 

Her golden brown eyes bored into you, expectantly, awaiting a good answer from you. So, your brain slowly started to get into first gear, going back-and-forth on names you’ve always liked. 

Olivia, Clementine, Alexis, Charlie, Lara, Mason, Alex -- uhm… Olivia could be cute. Or Rose! No, not Rose, that’s Julie’s mom’s name. Uhm… 

Your eyes wandered from Julie’s face to her backpack she had put in front of her on the desk. The silver dahlia pin reflected in the artificial light of the classroom, shimmering and tugging at a thought in your brain. “Dahlia,” you blurted out, not even thinking about it twice. 

Julie’s eyes widened slightly before darting over to the little pin on her backpack. A small smile tugged at her lips as her index finger carefully caressed the metal. At first, you thought you’d said something wrong and had the urge to apologize profusely until she looked up and said, “I like that. Dahlias were my mom’s favorite flower.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat. You knew the flower had some sort of significance to Julie as  you saw pins on her jackets and backpacks all the time, and even noticed some in the background of her Instagram pictures. But you didn’t know the significance had something to do with her mother. 

“We don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. My eyes just fell on your backpack and--” Julie’s hand reached for yours again, shutting you up with the beautiful sound of her laugh. 

“Dahlia is perfect, y/n.” 

Chills ran down your spine at the tone of her words. So warm. So comforting. Like a fluffy blanket was being wrapped around you. It melted away any insecurity and nerves and any other scrutinizing thoughts of self-doubt. 

You tore your gaze away from Julie’s before you’d drown in them indefinitely and grabbed a piece of paper from your notebook and a pencil. “So, I was thinking to maybe have a little dahlia as a card for the announcement?” you suggested as your hand skidded across the paper, sketching the outlines of the flower. 

Julie’s eyes widened at how quickly you could put a nearly perfect flower onto a piece of paper. For a moment, she just let you sketch out your ideas, admiring the passion and determination behind your actions. 

“Something like this?” you slid the piece of paper in front of Julie, who picked it up to look at it up close. Her mouth dropped open as her eyes darted across, taking in every single detail you’d managed to get out in such a short amount of time. The decorative letters that spelled out the baby’s name and the details in the flower itself. 

“Y/N,” Julie breathed out, her eyes finally meeting  yours again. “This is gorgeous! You are insanely talented!” she placed the sketch back on the table in front of you. A blush crept to your cheeks as you stared at the grey lines on the white surface.

“I--it’s not perfect,” you shrugged, scratching at the wood of the pencil. “And I’m not half as talented as you are.” You mumbled the words in hopes she wouldn’t even hear them but she definitely did. Placing a hand on your shoulder, she opened her mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by the bell ringing. 

“Come over to my place after school?” she suggested as she grabbed her backpack and the mechanic doll in the carrier. “We can brainstorm some more over the baby announcement and arrange a schedule for who’s gonna take her home when and stuff?” You slowly nodded your head, your brain still going over the words that came out of her mouth. 

Julie Molina wanted to see you after school. Julie Molina. You. After school. 

“Okay, cool. See you tonight then. I’ll take Dahlia with me for the day?” 

“Uhm, yeah, sure. See you tonight, Molina.” You didn’t mean for it to come out as flirtily as it did. But it seemed to have some sort of an effect on the Latina girl in front of you as her cheeks tinted a scarlet red. 

Julie had messaged you on Instagram with the address and her number, which you immediately saved to your phone before heading down to the homey two-story house a few blocks away from your own. 

I’m here

You texted her as you stood on the driveway, your bike on the kickstand next to you. The nerves were surging through you as you looked around. Green plants and trees surrounded you as did all the pretty yellow and pink flowers. One of which you recognized: Black Eyed Susan. According to your grandma, they symbolised encouragement and motivation. Which was something your family needed, and Julie’s too after the loss of her mother. 

“Hey, y/n,” Julie greeted as she exited her house through the front door, shutting it behind her, “We’re gonna go to my mom’s studio ‘cause I’ve got band practice after.” She hooked her arm with yours while the other carried the baby doll’s carrier. 

She retreated her arm from yours and used it to pull one of the white doors open, revealing a spacious area filled with instruments, couches and three boys you recognized as the rest of Julie’s band. All three of them looked up from their spots on the couch and armchair with either a pen in their hand and a notebook on their lap or an instrument -- or part of the instrument in the blonde’s case -- in their hands. All looking like deer caught in headlights. 

“Why’s your band here?” you asked, your eyes darting from the musicians to your project partner. Julie opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. “Wait, I heard rumors about them being ghosts, that’s not true is it?” 

A squeaky sound came from all four of them as they looked at each other for help on a good excuse until Julie placed Dahlia on the coffee table near the boys and turned to you, placing her hands on your shoulders. She said, “You have to promise not to tell anyone.” 

“I promise?” 

Julie sighed, dropping her hands from your shoulders and instead putting them into the pocket of her fuzzy coat. “Then yes, they are ghosts.” Your eyes scanned Julie’s face for any sign of a joke, but you couldn’t detect anything. 

“Weirdly not the strangest thing I have ever heard,” you shrugged as you placed your backpack on a chair near you and dug your notebook out of it. “I hashed out some details for our baby announcement during French class.” 

Confused, Julie glanced at the boys and back at the girl in front of her. “You’re not gonna run away and never come back?” she asked you, which made you stop in your tracks, your fingers between the pages of the book as you were trying to get it open. 

“My grandma is into very spiritual things. So ghost chats are quite familiar to me,” you explained and resumed your movements. 

The three boys got up from their spots, notebooks and instruments left on the cushions, and made their way towards you. 

“I’m Luke,” the brunette with the greenish hazel eyes introduced himself, smiling at you. 

Before you could chime in, the boy next to Luke piped up, raising his finger. “Reggie! Hi!” You couldn’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm before your eyes landed on the blondie last in line, assuming he’d introduce himself too. 

“Alex,” he said with an awkward giggle. 

“It’s nice to meet you guys. I’m y/n,” you said just as the robotic sound of a cry sounded through the room, indicating Dahlia needed something. “Excuse me.” You pushed past the boys, as they stepped aside so you didn’t have to go through them. 

“She’s my partner for this baby project thing,” Julie explained to the boys. They shot each other a helpless look, wondering if the others are as lost as themselves. “It’s where you have to take care of a mechanic baby doll for a week.” 

Julie walked over to you as you cradled the doll in your arms, trying to get it to stop crying, and the boys followed suit. They were intrigued by this whole baby project ordeal. 

“Have you fed her yet?” you asked Julie when the baby wouldn’t stop crying. 

“Yes, I did. The second I came home,” she replied as she softly tugged at the doll’s shirt she’d put on her. It was an orange long sleeved shirt with a big yellow smiley printed on it. You knew Julie had a sweater similar to this, which is why Julie had chosen to put this one on. 

“Diaper check?” 

“Was doing that when you arrived.” 

The boys watched this interaction like a tennis match, their heads bobbing back and forth. To Alex, it seemed surreal a teacher would put two girls together for a project like this. If this were a thing back in his high school days, he would’ve never been paired with another boy. 

“Why else do babies cry?” you asked whilst racking your brain on possible ideas to make her stop crying. 

Luke sprung into action then and grabbed his six string from the stand behind them, putting the strap around his shoulder. He strummed the instrument a couple of times into a beautiful, familiar melody. 

Julie seemed to recognize it too, because no sooner, her voice floated through the shed. 

“Oh thinkin' about all our younger years There was only you and me We were young and wild and free Now nothing can take you away from me We've been down that road before But that's over now You keep me comin' back for more”

Her eyes locked with yours as she sang, a soft smile plastered on her face while you stared back at her with an endeared expression resting on your features. You loved the sound of her voice and you loved the way it was able to calm you down in an instant. Which also seemed to be the case with the robotic baby in your arms whose cries had quieted down. 

Luke’s voice coming in didn’t stop Julie from looking at you either. 

“Baby you're all that I want When you're lyin' here in my arms I'm findin' it hard to believe We're in heaven And love is all that I need And I found it there in your heart Isn't too hard to see We're in heaven”

The crying had now completely stopped. A quiet calm resting over the entire studio space as you and Julie kept looking at each other. Of course the boys noticed this and couldn’t withhold the smile finding its way to their lips. 

“Is it me or do they look like a cute family?” Reggie whispered to his best friends. 

He wasn’t wrong. Though neither you and Julie would ever admit it, there was a definite spark between you, and it only grew as the week went on. 

You took turns taking Dahlia home and spent lunches and every other hour possible together with the mechanic doll that had become the vessel for your expression of your love for each other. It became such a routine that by Friday, the two of you dreaded turning Dahlia in. Neither of you wanted it to end. Neither of you knew what was going to happen if you didn’t have Dahlia to take care of together. 

Were you just going to go back to how it was with you admiring Julie from afar and her completely ignoring your existence? Or were you going to stay friends? 

Neither of you knew even though both of you had the same questions. 

“Just ask her out on Friday when you’ve turned Dahlia in, y/n,” Amy said as you sat in French together and she had noticed your sighs of desperation. You looked at her as if she’d just said something really controversial. “Y/N, there's chemistry between the two of you! Have you seen the way she looks at you? That is not how ‘just a project partner’ should look at you!” 

You let Amy’s words sink in your brain as you went on with the rest of your day after French class until the moment of goodbye came around. 

You and Julie handed Dahlia back to mister Adams, along with your entire report you had worked on until two am last night in Julie’s garage, the boys all but helping you out. 

The weight on your shoulders should’ve been lifted now that you’d reached the deadline and could actually hand something in. But it weighed down even harder. Mostly because you were anxious it was going to be the end of you hanging out with Julie. It didn’t have to happen, but you were scared it might. 

Everything you want is on the other side of fear. 

The old saying your grandma always muttered to herself haunted around in your brain as you and Julie made your way towards your desk in the back of the class. Neither of you said anything for a while until you both turned to each other and opened your mouths. 

“I wanna ask you--” / ��Can I ask you--”

Your words mingled and lingered in the air as you both giggled at the simultaneousness of your thoughts. 

“You go first,” you said, offering Julie the floor. You couldn’t help but feel anxious yet curious about what she was going to say. 

“Can I ask you if maybe we could like, I don’t know… Study together later tonight?” 

Your eyebrow raised in surprise as did the corners of your mouth while a bright pink flushed your cheeks. “I kinda wanted to ask the same thing,” you admitted, which made Julie light up entirely. “So, yes, definitely.” 

You had definitely found yourself on the other side of fear. On the contrary. You had found yourself on cloud nine with flutters in your stomach and clammy hands from the nerves as the date grew closer and closer. 

Crazy how a stupid mechanical doll can bring two unlikely people together.     

         *

*

*

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[fictionalnormalcy]

58 for intimacy asks - Vigcup 😊

Prompt 58: Being locked in a small space; Vigcup

“Come on there’s something I want to show you,” He tugged him by the hand.

“We’re going, up there?” Viggo asked hesitantly. 

“You’ve never been up in a tree house?” Hiccup smirked. 

“A building like that, is meant for children under ten.”

“I have some notebooks up there, and I need your help finding them.” He grasped the rope ladder. 

He heard Viggo climbing underneath him, coming to join him on the platform. 

“When was the last time you were inside?” He glanced at the entrance. 

Hiccup laughed as he spoke. “When I still fit through without having to lean down.”

Hiccup raised the latch and shoved open the heavy wooden door. Stepping inside and feeling the aged wood groan underneath his foot. It would hold. He was sure of it. The tree it was built on was sturdy and reliable, although he did have to admit that it was possible the wood for the floor had begun to wear away. He eased his way inside, wiping the dust from his hand onto his jeans. The floor creaked once again as Viggo followed. Hiccup turned, handing Viggo a bucket full of white small rocks and pointing at the open door. 

“Stubborn in staying open.” He said shortly. 

He turned before he could see Viggo’s reaction. He heard the plastic be placed on the floor, letting in a doorway of sunlight. Over the years his dad had made it a storage unit, boxes filled with old books and clothes. Some with handmade wooden statues that no longer fit on shelves. 

“What box do you think it may be in?” Viggo came to stand beside him. 

His legs were slightly bent and back hunched, while all Hiccup had to do was lean his head down. Hiccup couldn’t help but smile, also thinking that the less they spent in here the better. He didn’t want to turn his partner into a hunchback from this. 

“I umm,” He chuckled nervously, “Dad added more in here than I thought. I don’t know where he could have put the box they were in.”

“Are these notebooks really that important that we have to be in this dust-ridden room?”

“Hey,” Hiccup chided, “you’ve shown me your sketches and prototypes. Time I return the favor.” 

“Ah.” 

Viggo jostled him as he took a box off a pile nearly touching the ceiling. Hiccup searched through another three boxes, trying to work his way through the assortment. Once he saw its contents, he knew it weren’t what they were looking for and would set them aside. The two of them slowly making a pile next to the doorway. Then Hiccup found a squished backpack crammed into the corner. Clutching it with both hands, he started to pull, feeling the object slowly move back. Using too much force, it came free with an abrupt jerk. 

Viggo had noticed too late, only arriving in time to seize the backpack, but Hiccup had fallen backward, knocking down their tower of boxes. The impact causing the bucket of rocks to dislodge from the door, and it slammed shut. There was still faint rays of sunlight peeking in from the single window, but otherwise the treehouse had drastically darkened. There was a small thud as Viggo leaned down. A hand coming to the back of Hiccup’s neck.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he slid an arm around Hiccup’s waist. 

“Yeah. I forgot how heavy the door is.”

Hiccup held onto Viggo’s shoulder as he helped him stand. Hiccup started pulling the fallen boxes upright, the ones that had been left inside. Some had been shoved onto the platform outside. Viggo began to swipe at the door.

“Why isn’t there a doorknob on the inside?” 

“Oh.” He grimaced. “It used to have one, but the screws loosened and when it fell my dad never fixed it. Just, ease your fingers into the doorway and pull.”

“Did this ever happen to you when you were younger?”

“Always had the bucket, and honestly? Never this many boxes inside.”

“It’s not opening.”

The door creaked loudly in complaint, but there was a ka-thunk. Hiccup ran a hand down his face as he realized. 

“It’s happened, that if it closes with enough force the latch slides into place.”

“Hiccup, you can’t be serious.”

His gaze drifted to the floor. 

“So how do we go about this?”

“The window?” Hiccup suggested. 

Viggo shoved some boxes aside as he made his way over. His hands went to the frame, pulling at the window. 

“Certainly… being… difficult.” He grunted. 

“Now that really hasn’t been opened in years, give it some elbow grease.” He urged. 

“What, do you think I’m doing?” 

He stumbled back as it finally slid open with a grind. Viggo managed to poke his head out, trying to see if there was someway he could try to open the door from where they were. 

“I can’t reach it from here.” He leaned back. “And the window’s too small for us to climb out of.”

“I could-”

“My dear while you are slender even you can’t fit through here. Even then there isn’t a solid branch on which you can step on if you managed to get out there.”

“My phone!” He cried, but once he slid it out he frowned. “Who should I call first? Almost everyone’s off-island.”

“It’s worth calling them, even if we have to wait a while for someone to let us out.”

“You don’t have your phone?”

It was Viggo’s turn to look mildly embarrassed as he said, “I left it on the dining room table. I didn’t expect that coming out to your backyard would merit an emergency.” 

“I didn’t expect it either.”

He clicked dial, starting with his dad. He managed to get through everyone, 3 of his friends answering, but saying their ride wasn’t due to arrive or that they were still occupied. His dad had sent him straight to voicemail. 

“Yeah well. Seems we’ll be stuck in here for a while.” He glanced at Viggo. “What do we do in the meantime?”

Viggo gave him a gentle smile. “What we came here to do.” 

“I can clear a spot for you to sit. If you like. Standing in that position must be really comfortable.”

“I doubt a box could support either of our weight.”

“Not a box.”

He gestured for Viggo to step aside, and lifted three small boxes into his arms. They nearly toppled forward, but Viggo lightened his load by taking one. Hiccup eased the boxes onto another pile and Viggo set his on the floor. 

“Benches.” Hiccup pointed. “I think I saw an old t-shirt spilling out of a box, we could wipe it down before you sit,”

He pulled it out and swept off all the dust. Stepping aside to allow Viggo to sit. 

“That work?” 

Viggo sat, resting his head against the wall, sighing heavily. “It could be better.”

He stared at Hiccup playfully.

“You take a break I’ll,” An idea dawned into his head, “keep looking. Bingo!”

He cleared off another part of the bench, then lifted up the plank. He started sifting through, trying not to inhale the spiderwebs in the compartment.

Viggo tsked. “This isn’t your typical treehouse. You even had a secret compartment.”

“You can see why I liked spending time here.”

He pulled out their prize. He undid the latches on the wooden box, setting it down below Viggo. 

“They’re here!” He yelled triumphantly. 

Hiccup pulled out a notebook, miraculously spared of the dust. Faint yellowing from age, but that was to be expected. He pried open the composition notebook, his grin growing wider as the doodles reminded him of what ran through his head as the pencil etched his idea. 

“How many do you have in there?” Viggo peered over his shoulder.

“I think it’s 8.” 

He felt arms slide around his waist from behind, lifting him until the back of his thigh touched the bench. Flipping to another page as Viggo adjusted into position beside him. Hiccup leaned backward into his chest, snuggling closer to him as they both looked over what lay on the paper.

Thank you for the prompt! <3

[moldisgoodforyou]

lost time (chapter two)

pairing: rafe cameron x oc

warnings: drinking, cursing, mentions of sex

wordcount: 1.6k

MASTERLIST

_______

By some strange coincidence, Rafe and Sophie were in the same section of their debate class. (Some might call it fate. Sophie would call it a curse.)

It was one of the less popular general education options in the communications section that all Ohio State students had to pick from, but they were both drawn to the idea of the challenge while enrolling. The class was fairly small for a gen ed, only about 40 students. When Rafe walked in on the first day, two minutes to start, he spotted Sophie immediately. She was poised with her notebook laid out, colored pens and all, and Rafe couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He deliberately sat opposite the room from Sophie, hoping and praying they would never be paired together. It was fun to argue about useless things at parties, but less fun in an educational setting. About a month into the semester, the thing he wanted least, happened. 

“Rafe Cameron...and…” Their professor trailed off, scanning around the room to find him a partner for the timed debate. Sophie kept her eyes trained on the doodles in the margin of her notebook, only halfway paying attention as she added another. She had been chosen once at the beginning of the semester and briefly entertained the short debate, something trivial about reality TV, but was left disappointed by her partner’s lackluster effort. “Sophie Flint!” 

At the mention of her name, her head snapped up, caught off guard. “Hm?” 

“You’ll be debating Mr. Cameron, here. Come up to the podiums please.” Their professor instructed. 

She sighed under her breath and rose from her seat as Rafe did the same, both of them standing at the podiums at the front of the classroom. Sophie laced her fingers behind her back, lifting her chin slightly to acknowledge Rafe. He just smirked. Asshole. 

“Alright, you two know the rules, keep it civil. Five minutes.” Their professor glanced down at her list of topics. “You’ll be debating...ah. Should golf be a sport or not? I’ll let you pick your sides -” 

They spoke at the same time. 

“Of course it should.” 

“God, no.” 

She held back an amused smile. “Alright. Carry on.” 

Sophie nodded curtly, then turned slightly toward Rafe, stating her position. “Golf courses are an absolute waste of real estate.” 

“Hold up - Professor Welch, are we talking about the sport or the course?” Rafe interrupted the debate, annoyed as he tugged at his cap. 

Their professor just shrugged. 

“Well you can’t have the sport without a course. Unless you want to play completely in the rough, which, with your skill level, you probably -” 

“Ms. Flint.” Professor Welch warned. 

Sophie barely held back a smirk. “Right. Anyways, courses are about 100, 200 acres on average? And say there’s at least 32,000 courses in the world. So by that standard…” she paused for a moment, doing the mental math. “You have roughly four and a half million acres of land occupied by golf courses.” 

Rafe raised his eyebrows, curling his fingers around the edge of the podium as he leaned slightly toward her. “I don’t see an issue with that. Golf is a valuable, fairly low-impact sport that provides an outlet for many. It’s accessible even past retirement, so it’s a sport that grows with you.” 

“Except the sport is classist. It’s expensive and typically located near neighborhoods that at least have a middle-class income. It’s only accessible past retirement if you have the option to retire, or if you retire with enough spare change to keep up the hobby.” She explained, almost seeming bored. “Not to mention, golf courses are destroying the environment.” 

“No they’re not.” He shot back. 

She raised her eyebrows at the meager comeback. “They are. What’s the one thing you need the most to keep the fairways groomed?” 

Rafe thought for a moment. “Water. But you can just use rainwater -” 

“Great, except most courses don’t.” She interrupted, rolling on. “It’s a huge waste of resources just to water the grass, instead of using that land for farming or preserving the biodiversity of the area.” 

“Thirty seconds.” Their professor chimed in, keeping an eye on her watch. 

Rafe hurried to make his point, knowing he was losing the debate by miles, but Sophie cut him off before he could even speak. “Not to mention, circling back to the sport being elitist, most courses require a country club membership to even play a round -” 

“You belong to a country club, Flint, that’s hardly a leg you can stand on.” Rafe interjected just as their professor called time, a broad smirk tugging at his lips as he sensed Sophie’s frustration at not getting the last word. 

“Enlightening.” Professor Welch turned back to the class. “Show of hands, who won?” The majority of the class voted for Sophie, only a few frat boys raising their hands in support for Rafe. The bell rang and their professor nodded as the class started to pack up and shuffle out. “Right then, don’t forget to read chapters three and four this weekend!” 

Sophie just rolled her eyes at Rafe’s smirk and grabbed her backpack, starting off down the hallway with a satisfied smirk of her own. Sure, he might have gotten the last dig, but she clearly had a stronger argument. 

“Sophie!” She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to know it was Rafe calling out after her. “Flint!” She ignored him again as he jogged to catch up until she felt his large hand grip her arm. “Hey, I’m talking to you.” 

She yanked her arm out of his grip but turned around anyways. “Get your hands off - oh.” She mumbled the last word as she saw her phone clutched in his hand. 

“Chill out, you just left this behind.” Rafe offered it to her and she took it, giving him a short smile. 

“Right. Thanks.” 

“Hey, um. You did good, I didn’t know all that stuff.” He tried, offering her a rare compliment. 

“It’s well.” She corrected before she could stop herself. 

“Huh?” 

“Well. I did well, not good.” The second it left her mouth, she regretted it.

Rafe scowled slightly at the correction. “Whatever. See you next class.” He headed off, shaking his head. She stood there for a moment, watching him go and silently cursed herself in her head. Would it be that difficult to accept the compliment?

_________

“You need to get over yourself and just go say hi.” Sophie’s friend and roommate, Julia, interrupted her train of thought as Sophie was completely zoned out later that night, staring across the bar at Rafe. He wasn’t even doing anything remotely interesting, just talking with his friends and drinking the Wednesday special dollar beers, but there was something about the backwards cap - that damn backwards cap - that did it for her. 

Sophie shook her head absently, taking a moment until she redirected her gaze. “Huh?” 

Her other roommate, Allie, shook her head with a smile at Sophie’s delayed reaction. 

“Oh my god.” Julia snapped in front of her face to get her attention. “Look, if you’re not going to make a move, can I?” 

“Can you - what? With Rafe? Rafe Cameron? Like, my Rafe?” Sophie stuttered, slightly in shock. “Why?” 

“Have you seen him? He’s cute. And he’s always been nice at parties. I need a date for the Theta party this weekend, please?” Julia asked, shooting a glance over at Rafe. He caught her eye but his gaze shifted over to Sophie for a moment as he sent her a nod of acknowledgment and a raise of his glass.

“I - um, fine, yeah, whatever.” Sophie knocked back the rest of her drink as a final statement, not wanting the conversation to last any longer as she flushed just slightly under Rafe’s stare. “I’m getting more, do you guys want something?” 

After a chorus of no’s from her friends, she pushed her way up to the bar alone. A few moments later, Rafe sidled up next to her, ordering a drink and leaning against the bar to face her. Sophie tried  her best to ignore him, keeping her gaze trained on the glowing neon signs behind the bar. 

“Not gonna say hi?” Rafe asked. 

It took everything in her for Sophie not to roll her eyes as she turned slightly toward him. “Hi, Cameron. Are you free this Friday?” 

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Are you asking me out?” 

That was enough to warrant an eyeroll. “No.” (She bit back the ‘no, stupid’ that threatened to roll off her tongue.) “My friend Julia doesn’t have a date for the Theta party. Are you down?” 

“Oh, shit, yeah.” He turned as their drinks arrived, sliding enough cash across to cover both of them. “The taller one, right?” 

Sophie tried to grab his cash back and cover her half before the bartender could take it, but she noticed too late. “Yes, the tall one. Here.” She shoved the $5 bill into Rafe’s hand. He just pushed it back into hers, taking her hand and closing it into a fist around the bill. “Rafe, I don’t want your money,” she tried again. 

He grinned. “So you can cover me next time we go out, then. What’s Julia’s number?” 

“Right.” She sighed and gestured for his phone. He handed it over easily. “Um, I don’t know it off the top of my head and they have my purse, but. Here’s mine and I’ll pass it on.” She typed her number into his phone quickly, saving her contact then handing it back.  

Rafe nodded with an easy grin, hand lingering for a moment as he took back the phone. “Even better. See ya Friday, Soph.” He gently bumped his elbow against hers, hands full, before heading back to his crew. It wasn’t lost on Sophie that she was left standing there, again, without the last word.

taglist: @oopsiedoopsie23​ @butgilinsky​ @taiter-tots​ 

[something-fanfiction-ie]

Rough Drafts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Explicit descriptions of a murder scene, argument, angst, and cursing.

A/N: Okay, so I know I said I was gonna publish this yesterday but I got Cassandra Clare’s newest book and I couldn’t put it down. I seriously love that lady. Omg. Anyways, it’s here now! And it’s angsty! And there’s gonna be a fourth part soon I promise! For real. Don’t forget to reblog, comment, send me an ask or a message and overall just adore me so that I may continue to feel good about myself. As always thank you for supporting me and I hope you enjoy!!!

[ Part One | Part Two ]

___

An incredulous laugh bursts from your lips, your nails cutting crescent moons into the palms of your hands as you try and convince yourself that this isn’t actually happening.

“Do you have alibis for your whereabouts on Monday, June eighth, Saturday, June thirteenth, and Thursday, June eighteenth?” Spencer can see your leg bouncing rapidly under the table, your eyes flying over the pictures and the expression of Emily Prentiss. You seem genuine, but he can’t trust himself to get an accurate read of you anymore.

“I, uhm, I- I wouldn’t know off the top of my head. I keep a planner, I’ll forget things otherwise.” The burst of iron in your mouth is not something you’re unused to, having chewed your cheek so badly that the skin there has broken under your teeth.

“We’ll need to see that.” Emily isn’t sure whether or not she believes that you’re guilty, watching the way you seem to unravel before her. When you look at the crime scene photos, it isn't with any pleasure, but with disgust. Your nose wrinkles a little at the bridge and you keep looking away as the blood from your face starts to drain. 

Either you’re a really good actress or you aren’t the unsub.

Emily says as much as she flips through the small teal planner that you’d willingly given them. Due dates for chapters, publishing events, book signings and days for book tours fill most of the pages in your most neat handwriting. Dates you plan to go visit your mother, grocery shop, doctor’s appointments, even plans to go somewhere and write.

Everything is explicitly stated, that way you’re never unsure of what you meant to tell yourself. That is, until around three weeks ago when a handful of days are notated with an ‘S,’ followed by a random doodle. Sometimes it’s a tiny heart drawn absentmindedly while you discuss the plans over the phone, other times it’s a cartoon bunny or a top hat.

Garcia is the first to take notice of it, her fingers faltering in their constant thrum against the keyboard in front of her. She glances out of the side of her glasses, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“Looks like lonely girl found herself a boo.” 

“That makes sense,” JJ says from the chair she’s pulled into Penelope’s office from the bullpen. A pen is stretched between her hands, her posture relaxed into the curve of the stiff, government-issued rolly chair.

All the girls have gathered into the tech analyst’s room while the men take turns interrogating you. Well, all except Spencer. He just stands behind that window watching your every move with eyes like a hawk. “What doesn’t make sense is why she keeps it secret even in her personal planner.”

“Maybe she has a stalker? That could be who is doing all this?” 

“Then she wouldn’t keep careful notation of everything else going on in her life. A stalker would follow her every move, not just her romantic interests. Even if he is in love with her.”

“A partner, maybe? Like the days they planned the murders or days they were acted out?”

“None of the days line up with the crimes, save for this one,” Emily leans the book toward the two women with her finger just underneath June fifth, the day Alison Crane was abducted from outside her campus dorm room. It’s the third ‘S’ scribbled into the corner of a day in the entire book.

“And there is nothing else written in relation to this ‘S’ character?” JJ shakes her head, looking for any clues that could be nestled among the loops and curls of your writing. Reid would be better at this, he was the graphology expert among them. So why wasn’t he back here helping?

“Then I guess we better try and get her to talk about it. Meanwhile Garcia, we’ll get Rossi and Reid to head over to her apartment and you can hack into her computer?” Penelope spins the chair, a flash of bright colors and blond hair. She clicks her tongue in response, throwing up a fingers gun and winking.

“Whatever you need me to do, I’m on it like sexy on Derek Morgan stepping out of the shower in a towel.”

After some arguing, and maybe just a little bit of pleading, they manage to convince Reid to join Rossi on a trip to your apartment. He can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable, standing in your living room. Not because he’d been here before, but because he’d never been here before.

The empty mugs that litter every surface, smelling of old coffee and your favorite coffee creamer (he only knows it’s your favorite because you explicitly ask for that creamer at every coffee shop the two of you have ever gone to), is unfamiliar to him. He’s invited you to his apartment at least three times. How come he had never been to yours?

Small pages and notebooks of scribbled ideas and dialogues cover just as many areas as the coffee cups do, your handwriting messy and cramped in every note. It’s almost like you couldn’t get the idea out of your head fast enough.

The bed in your room is meticulously made without a wrinkle in sight, but that could be because of the obvious bed you’ve made yourself along the salmon pink couch that stretches out in front of your TV. A multicolored crochet blanket is thrown haphazardly over the back, a pillow still slightly squished against the arm.

On the coffee table is a half opened laptop, a notebook with red and black ink scribbled in the lines, and a still full cup of coffee. Rossi makes quick work of calling Garcia and helping her get patched into your computer. It’s strange, watching her move the mouse on your screen from miles away.

Reid never stops moving, walking the length of your studio apartment with his eyes peeled for any kind of information he could find. It’s obvious that you spend most of your time in the main room, which houses the kitchen, a small dining area, and the living room. A door leading into your room branches off to a small bathroom which is just as disorganized as everything else in your house.

Hair products, skin washes, and all kinds of makeup are scattered across the sink and back of your toilet. It’s funny because every time he’s ever met up with you, you’re bare faced and your hair is still drying from the shower you took before leaving your house. The tube of lipstick he picks up makes him think he doesn’t really know you at all.

On the nightstand in your room is a bottle of water with the label ripped off and the two Rossi books you’d bought that fateful day in the bookstore. The label from the water bottle is stuck between the middle pages of one of the books. The passages in question don’t lend anything to connecting you as a homicidal maniac, let alone a serial killer.

Back in the living room, Garcia is snooping through every aspect of your computer.

“I don’t know whether or not the be freaked out by her web history. There’s a lot of murder-y questions here. ‘Signs of a post mortem amputation,’ ‘How much blood can you lose and still live?,’ ‘Most brutal ways to be killed.’ It’s creepy.” Rossi is flicking through the notebook from the table, his eyes squinted as he tried to make sense of the abbreviations and scribblings of another writer.

“She writes crime novels so it isn’t entirely strange for her to be looking at those types of things.” Thankfully, the defense of your web search history comes from the older man who looks up as Garcia delves deeper and deeper. Spencer had thought it first, but hadn’t said anything to avoid suspicion. He’s smart enough to know that the truth has to come out eventually, but he wants to be sure of your innocence (or guilt, he reminds himself a bit glumly) before he reveals your link to him.

“I’m not seeing anything she could be using to contact a partner unless her partner is one of the publishing people she’s constantly messaging via email.” At this Spencer stops, leaning against the back of the couch with his weight resting on the heels of his hands. The stance appears relaxed. He is anything but.

“Why do we assume she has a partner?” Reid asks, impatiently pushing a stray curl away from his face. Rossi glances at him curiously, otherwise undistracted from the shake the movement gives the couch.

“Oh, Prentiss, JJ, and I were looking through her little teal book earlier and the only thing not explicitly stated was just the letter ‘S.’ It’s why they came back to interrogate and they sent you guys to her house. I thought they told you.”

Spencer wants to beat his head against the wall.

“That isn’t a lead, Garcia. You have to tell them that ‘S’ isn’t her partner.” The mouse on the computer screen falters, several saved documents for different rough drafts of books or drabbles are pulled up the way you might have papers scattered about in front of you.

“What is it? Do you know who ‘S’ is?” Rossi is turned sideways on the couch, looking over the back and up at the distressed man in front of him. It doesn’t take him long to connect the dots when they make eye contact. Penelope impatiently whines over the phone.

“I’m ‘S,’ I’ve been seeing her for the last three weeks. I’m sure if you tell me the dates then every single one of them will be days that we’ve had plans together.”

“I’m sorry, what?!” Before anyone has the chance to say anything else, the door to Garcia’s office opens and a second voice filters through Rossi’s phone speaker. It’s JJ.

“Let Reid and Rossi know there’s just been another murder.”

This time it’s a fifteen year old girl. Her hair is black and wet, her lips are as blue as the sky, and she’s naked. Water droplets from her skin have soaked into the sheet of paper that was layed over her chest. The bathtub she’s in is completely empty, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that she was drowned there. The bruises on her shoulders from the force the unsub used to pin her down are dark against the contrast of her already pale skin.

...The man leaned over the tub, his eyes squinted in thought and his lips skewed a little to the side. Ryder stayed focused on the crime scene, for the most part. But even detectives of her caliber, and higher, could easily get lost in the eyes that look up at her from beneath long golden-brown lashes.

“Detective?” She blinks the distraction away, looking back at the girl, her black hair wet and spiraling like the snakes on Medusa’s head against the ivory siding of the drained tub. Ryder can’t help but wish the girl had been lucky enough to turn her killer to stone. Maybe it would have saved her.

“Agent.” She crosses her arms, looking anywhere but at the man across from her, pretending to look for any useful clues. Ryder had gotten to the crime scene fourty-five minutes before the pair of FBI Agents had walked in. The man, who had introduced himself as Supervisory Special Agent Matthew Gray, had decided to join her in the second floor bathroom. His partner, a woman named Katherine Swift, had taken to looking for clues through the rest of the house.

Agent Gray is beautiful. It’s the only adjective that seems to stick to him with certainty, every other aspect of his personality just as elusive as the exact color of those eyes. Even as short as his hair is, the golden brown tendrils are unkempt and curl every which way. Ryder has to force her hand to stay at her side and not reach up to smooth an alfalfa that does nothing for the serious expression on his face.

She keeps imagining what it would feel like if he reached out to kiss her, curling his fingers into her hair and bringing her unworthy lips up to meet his. He’s tall so she would probably have to stretch a little, but she wouldn’t mind. Not when his hands are tangled in her hair and he’s giving her the kiss she’s been silently begging for since the moment he flashed that crooked grin at her.

The imagination is so vivid that she jumps when her own partner, Detective Russo, comes around the corner of the hallway and straight into the bathroom...

The paper crinkles in the evidence bag as Morgan places it on the table, trying to ignore the daggers being glared into him on the other side of the mirror.

Nobody on the team had been very happy with Spencer when they heard the news about your relationship, Hotch had nearly snatched him by the scruff of his neck when he made to go into the interrogation room. But after several minutes of thoroughly explaining himself, Hotch had sent Morgan in. To say Spencer was infuriated was an understatement.

“Do you know what this is, (Y/N)?” You look down at it, twisting the evidence bag so that you could read the Times New Roman font you always wrote in when writing in Microsoft Word. The words cover the front and back of the copy paper, but you don’t have to read it through all the way before you know what it is.

“It’s a page from my newest book.” The bag scratches against the tabletop as you push it away from you, crossing your arms over your chest. Your face is stoplight red with embarrassment at the thought of Spencer reading this page, mostly because you had pulled so heavily from your own thoughts when first meeting Spencer to write Ryder and Gray’s first meeting. You created Matthew Gray to write about Spencer Reid in a way that felt less ‘high school diary entry.’

“More specifically, it’s from the book you just started working on about a month ago. The one that only you and your agent have access to.” Finally, Morgan sits. Before, he’d just been pacing around you the way a lioness might stalk around her prey before she launches an attack. It made you uneasy, but that was the whole point, wasn’t it?

“Do you know where we found it, (Y/N)?” His muscles bulge against his shirtsleeves when he leans them up on the table. Derek Morgan is a very attractive man, you’ll give him that, but if making you uneasy and putting you in the room with a attractive man to fluster you was their strategy then they should have sent in Spencer.

“My computer.”

“We found it on the body of a dead girl.” Another picture joins the ones already shuffled around the table. You can barely look at it, nausea and tears building in your throat at the sight of another person dying the same way you’d written in a story. When you don’t respond, Morgan continues.

“‘She was found at the bottom of an empty bathtub, a pale leg hooked over the edge of the porcelain siding, and her arms pinned to her sides in death. Bruises discolored the skin at her shoulders, and Ryder knew at first glance that her cause of death would be asphyxiation by drowning.’” He drops the paper back to the table, having picked it up to read the passage from the end of the page.

“That’s wrong,” You say, leaning back over the table to look at the paper again. Derek looks down, like the words might have changed in the moment he looked away, but the text stays exactly the same as before.

“That’s exactly what is written here.” You shake your head, pulling the bag back to you and wrinkling your forehead in thought.

“I don’t doubt that is what you read, Agent Morgan,” Your eyes fly over the page, reading the end of the excerpt with overwhelming relief. The bag sticks a little to the pad of your index finger as you tap over the paragraph in question. “But I rewrote this scene only two nights ago. It’s on my computer, I’m sure your tech analyst can confirm my claim. This girl, Bella, she doesn’t die from drowning anymore. Her hands are tied above her head to the faucet and she’s strangled. I couldn’t decide if I wanted it to be by her sister or her girlfriend.”

JJ rushes back to Penelope’s office, on a mission to confirm your statement just as you had suggested. Meanwhile, Morgan’s mind is rushing to figure out the mess he is currently sat in. You lean back in your chair now, unsure if the dizziness you feel is from lack of food or the sudden realization that they couldn’t pin this to you anymore.

“I’m not your bad guy. If I was doing this to prove to my mother that my writing is good, that I chose the right career, as your profile says, I wouldn’t change the scene in my book and not change the murder.” In Morgan’s earpiece, Hotch tells him that you were telling the truth about editing the scene two nights ago.

“Unless you planned it to throw us off track. We know about your relationship with Spencer, you’ve probably found out all kinds of things to do to keep us from catching you.”

You clench your teeth, straightening into your chair and pinning Derek down with a look you’d learned from your mother. It makes him think of his mom, your eyes narrowed and your gaze so cold that it could cause frostbite. He watches curiosily as you tilt your chin up a little, trying to hide the pricks behind your eyes and the wobble of your lip. Derek notices them, the entire team notices. They’re trained to notice.

“I want a lawyer.” You say simply, you voice is sharp and quiet but it does the job of slicing through the tension already building in the room.

“Come on, you don’t need a lawyer.”

“That’s where you’re wrong again, Agent Morgan. I do need a lawyer. Because even though I have full-heartedly trusted the justice system since I was in diapers, and even though I came to these offices willing to help your team in any way that I could, you are still trying to use me as a scapegoat instead of actually doing your fucking job and finding the bastard who is killing people in my name.

“A study from criminal law bulletin says that 10,000 people are wrongfully convicted of serious crimes every year. One in every twenty-five people sentenced to death are innocent, Agent Morgan. Just since 1973, more than 160 people were exonerated from the death penalty. That’s not even counting the people who were killed. But you sure as hell aren’t about to make me apart of that statistic because you want to waste your time trying to piece an investigation around me. That’s not how you’re supposed to do your job. So until you can remember how to do it correctly, I do need a lawyer. Thank you.”

By the time you finish you’ve leaned over the table, your index finger jammed into the wood to make your point. It feels like your chest is on fire as you slam back into your seat and cross your arms, determined to keep your silence for the rest of the time you were forced to sit here.

Everyone on the opposite side of the mirror is stunned into silence, their eyes focused on you even as Derek gathers all the things from the desk and walks out looking a little flustered himself. If Spencer was totally honest, your outburst was actually kind of hot. He has to remind himself that you may have killed eight people in cold blood.

Your lawyer makes it to the BAU in record time, his red hair expertly gelled back from his face. His icy blue eyes only cracking when he sees you sitting by yourself in the interrogation room. Spencer can tell by the way that he lowers himself on the balls of his feet to talk to you, reaching out to touch the hand that sits on your thigh, that he knows you personally. He likes you, actually. Spencer tried to tell himself that it doesn’t make him glad when you pull your hand out of his and awkwardly pat his arm.

He’s been lying to himself a lot today.

Hotch is the one to go back in the room, he was the best at dealing with lawyers. Unfortunately his best wasn’t enough to keep you in custody and soon your lawyer, who Spencer learned was named Jeremy, was walking you out of the room for the first time in six hours.

Your back cracks when you stand, your shoulders rolling back to try and ease some of the stress you’d been holding there since this morning. The sound of the door swinging open for you is almost heavenly, the feel of the air outside of the room is damn near enough to make you cry.

When you look to the side, ready to leave out the second door that leads into the hallway and away from this mess, you meet eyes with the only profiler of the BAU that you hadn’t seen that day. Spencer looks back at you with an expression that you find hard to put into words.

He almost looks sorry, the regret evident in the slight widening of his eyes, but at the same time his chin is tilted up like he is facing an enemy he has vowed to take down no matter the cost. His shoulders are squared, but his arms are uncrossed and his palms are open.

And even though you knew you wouldn’t be there without him knowing, the reassurance that Spencer knew and even suspected you is like a blow to the chest and stomach. It robs you of air, causing you to stumble.

Jeremy reaches to steady you. You shake him off, pulling your eyes from the young doctor and focusing all of your attention on the door knob.

“I’m fine, Jeremy.” Your tone of voice is more harsh than you intended but you’re still struggling to collect oxygen, even when you slide into your car by yourself, it feels like you can’t get enough air. The walk from the BAU offices to the parking lot had passed in a blur. Jeremy’s talk about staying at home and keeping your head low had gone by even faster, and now that you have time to truly be by yourself, everything hits like a ton of bricks thrown at you from a speeding train.

In the midst of your panic attack, gasping for air into the palms of your shaking hands, questioning everything about yourself and your career, you don’t register the shuffle of movement in your backseat. You’re so deep in your mind that you almost don’t notice the cool press of a gun barrel against the back of your neck until a familiar voice lifts your head from your hands.

“Drive.”

[starshine583]

Crossing a Line (18)

(I’m just gonna keep changing the title set up until I’m satisfied lol anyway, enjoy reading chapter 18 of the Le Paon AU as the tension rises!)

Part 1 / Part 17 / Part 19

The lead of the pencil scratched across the paper as Marinette drew another flower. True to his word, Felix had passed her classroom after each period, subtly giving her a nod or wave to acknowledge the check in. Marinette decided to mark off the classes by drawing flowers. That way, anyone- *cough* Alya *cough* -watching would think she was just doodling. The strategy’s worked well so far, and now she only had one class left before lunch.

Marinette pulled her lip between her teeth and reached down to fiddle with the peacock miraculous again. She’d hardly let it go since her confrontation with Felix. He seemed genuinely surprised about the consequences of the wish, but she’d seen too many ‘genuine’ things from him to trust that again. So It helped ease her mind a bit knowing that Felix was currently powerless. If he did intend on twisting the odds again, he’d have to jump through a few more hoops than before. 

That begs the question, though: If Felix was telling the truth, what happens next? She’ll get back her miraculous and heal Emilie, but will Felix keep fighting with Hawk Moth? What if he still felt a morbid sense of loyalty towards the terrorist? What if Hawkmoth pressures him to get the miraculous anyway as payback for the peacock miraculous? Does this whole fiasco boil down to what Hawkmoth really wants?

“Hey, girl! You ready for lunch?” Alya asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

Marinette blinked. “Lunch?”

“Yeah, it’s time for our lunch break.”

Marinette turned to the rest of the class, who were already filing out of the classroom. Was class over? She didn’t realize she’d spaced out that long.

“Anyway, I was thinking of the park? We haven’t eaten there in a while.” Alya continued thoughtfully.

“Oh, actually,” Marinette said, “I’m eating lunch with Felix today.”

She held back a wince when Alya’s gaze snapped to hers. “You’re what?”

“Yeah..” Marinette sighed, standing up to gather her things. “He- um -we have a few fashion things to talk about? So we decided to eat lunch together.”

“And when were you going to tell me?” Alya asked, clearly offended that she’d been left out of the loop.

“It only just happened this morning.” Marinette offered sheepishly. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Please don’t make it that big of a deal.

“What? Girl, that’s a big score! Even if it’s not an official date, it’s still lunch together!” Alya insisted, now getting giddy with the news. Great. “I’ll forgive you for forgetting to tell me, but I want all the deets afterwards as an apology!”

Marinette plastered on a smile. She couldn’t blame her best friend for accidentally hitting a sore spot. Her romantic feelings for Felix fading away because of a betrayal involving both of their miraculous is a scoop that even Alya couldn’t have guessed. Marinette didn’t guess it either. “Sure, Alya.”

The two girls said their goodbyes, and Alya pranced off to tell the rest of the girl gang about Marinette’s “unofficial date” with Felix. It was a hollowing feeling, watching everyone get to live their lives as if nothing earth-shattering had happened. Marinette was barely holding it together, fueled by her rage and determination alone, and no one knew. Well, no one except Felix, but he’d been the cause of the damage. That wasn’t exactly a comfort for her. Will she have to act like nothing’s happened between them for the rest of her life? That will be hard considering Alya and the others are still trying to push them together.

Marinette checked her phone as she walked towards the cafeteria. She’d tried to call Chat Noir as Jiāng húlí several times, but he must not have been transformed. It went straight to voicemail. She had to give Master Fu the fox miraculous soon after, so she crossed her fingers that he might get the message of her distress and contact her.

A part of her wondered what he would say if he knew what had happened. He’d been the first to warn her, after all. He told her that Le Paon wasn’t to be trusted, and what did she do? She threw away the statements without a second thought. All because of some fickle emotions. At least she’d learned her lesson: Villains can shine and sparkle like heroes (or more) as much as they want, but at the end of the day.. At the end of the day, they’re just that. Villains. 

Felix may sound sweet and worried, and she may still be in love with him to an agonizing amount, but Marinette is committed to not learning that lesson a second time.

~~~~~~

Felix brushed a hand against his vest as he slipped his tablet into his bag. He hadn’t realized how accustomed he’d grown to wearing the peacock miraculous. Without it on, his outfit felt.. incomplete. 

“Do you think we can make it to that restaurant in time?” Allegra asked to no one in particular, wrapping her purse around her shoulder.

“If Felix gets his driver to take us.” Claude replied with a smile.

Felix glanced up from his bag. “Oh, I can’t join you for lunch today.”

Claude snorted. “Come on, Fe, you can’t get out of it that easily.”

“Yeah, you should have learned that when you tried a lame excuse last semester.” Allan added with a smile.

Felix rolled his eyes. “No, I really can’t. I’m having lunch with Marinette today.”

The group paused, their eyes widening from shock.

Then-

“What?!” Claude burst out.

“You finally got together!” Allegra cheered. 

“When did that happen?” Allan asked.

Felix waved down their reactions, along with his own guilt. “It’s not like that. In fact, I..”

Her near-murderous glare resurfaced in his mind.

“I don’t think it’s going to work out between us.” He admitted softly.

The group frowned, each sharing a look with the other.

“But you guys are perfect together.” Allegra attempted to console. “You’ve gotten along wonderfully so far.”

“She accepted your offer to lunch, right?” Claude added. “That’s a good sign.”

Felix held back a bitter laugh. They were not talking about the same situation.

Allan gave him a gentle pat on the back. “Don’t worry, man. If you love her, and she loves you, everything will turn out fine.”

But is love enough to overcome betrayal?

He hoped he was wrong when he said he didn’t think so.

“I’ll see you after lunch.” Was all Felix ended up muttering. Marinette would be waiting for him. No need to break her trust in him further, if that was even possible. 

“Bye..” Allegra said, a hint of concern in her tone. Felix was concerned too. Not only had he lied to Father about his knowledge of Ladybug’s identity, he had secretly stolen Ladybug’s earrings, and now he was giving them back, all without Father's consent. This was no doubt the best course of action, but that didn’t mean the consequences would be any less severe. Felix imagined he’d be pulled from school when Father found out and grounded from everything. Marinette would most certainly be banned from their premises a second time. 

He’d backed himself into a corner, and the only option now was to race against the clock and heal Emilie before Gabriel could figure out their plan and unleash his rage. 

-

Courage was the first thing to go as Felix approached Marinette’s table. She’d chosen to eat outside, taking the table furthest from the school grounds. It gave them the most privacy without actually leaving. He wouldn’t expect anything less from the clever Ladybug, but it pained him that she felt the need to take such precautions. 

Quietly, he set his bag on the ground next to the chair across from her and sat down. Marinette didn’t react. She merely sat there scribbling something in a notebook. He peered over the paper as best he could without standing and managed to catch a couple of words.

Escape Plan.

Felix looked down at his hands, shame churning and twisting inside him. So there really was no trust left between them, huh?

“How were your classes?” He asked, if only to break the soul-crushing silence.

Marinette shot him a glare immediately. “Don’t act like you care.”

Felix tensed. “I-” I do care. So much. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

Marinette scoffed and set down her pencil. Or rather, slammed it on the table in annoyance. “You want to talk? Fine. Who’s Hawkmoth? How did you two become partners?”

Felix grimaced. She always managed to ask the hardest questions. “That’s a.. long story.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes, and he could tell he’d given the wrong answer. What else could he do, though? Hawkmoth was his Father. Felix couldn’t just give him up.

“Fine.” She said, pure agitation in her voice now. “How did you know who I was? What gave me away.” 

“Ah, well..” He might as well tell her, right? They both knew each other’s identities so what was the harm? “Yesterday, after the akuma attack, I saw you swinging off alone and thought I’d follow you-”

“Wait.” Marinette interrupted, her eyebrows knitted together. “Did you say yesterday?”

Felix nodded. “We’d been planning to follow you for a while, but Chat Noir always got in the way. Yesterday was the first time I’d been able to catch you alone. That’s when I saw you transform.”

A mix of emotions washed over her features, mostly skepticism. “So you mean to tell me that you haven’t known Marinette was Ladybug this whole time? That you only found out last night, a few hours before you stole my miraculous?”

Now Felix was frowning. “Yes? Did you think I would risk saving you or coming to your house as Le Paon if I knew you were Ladybug? I can be reckless, but I’m not that reckless.”

Marinette didn’t reply. She stared down at her notebook, lost in deep thought. When she finally spoke, though, it was soft, and he almost had to lean forward to hear it. 

“Then why?”

“Pardon?” What did she mean ‘why’?

Marinette looked up, and Felix’s heart sank when he saw the tears brimming in her eyes. 

“Why?” She repeated, harsher and louder than before. “Why waste all those nights coming to my house or talking with me at school if you didn’t know who I was? What was the point if not to get close enough to take the earrings for the wish?” 

“Marinette, I..” Felix trailed off, frozen by her sudden grief. She looked so desperate, so broken, and he did this to her. 

He reached out to her, touched her hand to comfort or relieve or something, but she pulled away.

“Why say you love me,” She whispered, looking back down at her notebook, “if you didn’t mean it?”

Felix almost shot out of his chair at the accusation. Was this what she’d been telling herself since yesterday? That all of their times together, their not-quite-dates, their kiss, his love.. was some sort of elaborate lie to get jewelry? No wonder she was furious! He’d be beside himself if he found out she was lying to him like that!

“Marinette,” He began carefully, “I know our friendship is currently unpleasant and shaky at best, but please trust me when I say that I meant every word I said to you.” 

Marinette sniffed and brushed a few stray tears away. Each one dropped another anchor on Felix’s heart. 

“How can I?” She asked after a moment. “How can I trust you when you didn’t trust me? We spent months together, Felix! We had sleepovers and deep, late night talks and ate ice cream together and supported each other over everything. After all of that, why would you-” Her quiet sob cut her short, and she shook her head. “Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

Now that was a question. Why didn’t he just talk to her? He thought he was avoiding hurt by taking the earrings quickly, but that obviously failed. He may have avoided physical injuries, but he’d much rather those at this point. 

No, the real reason was that Felix didn’t want to be torn over whether he should continue to save his mother or not. He had the miraculous. He had the wish. He saw the light at the end of the tunnel and didn’t want to know if the light would be dimmer than he’d originally thought.

“I was a coward.” He admitted, burying his hand in his hair. “After missing my Mother and wishing her back for so long, I was afraid of what you would tell me when I told you the truth. I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that the miraculous might not bring her back.”

Gosh, he’d made so many mistakes. He shouldn’t have accepted the peacock miraculous. He shouldn’t have let his Father terrorize the city for so long in a misguided cause. He shouldn’t have procrastinated about talking to Ladybug for possible peace. He shouldn’t have kept fighting when he learned that Adrien was Chat Noir. He shouldn’t have taken Marinette’s earrings when he learned the truth. He just shouldn’t have.

Marinette sighed, bringing him from his thoughts. “Okay.”

Felix’s eyes widened. “Okay?”

Marinette brushed the last bit of tears from her eyes and nodded. “I can’t say that I completely trust you yet, but.. If you’re serious about this, I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Felix’s heart skipped a beat.

“T-That’s all I need!” He promised. Talking with him during lunch had been better than he’d dreamed. Giving him another chance was an absolute miracle for him. “Thank you.”

Marinette didn’t answer. With the conversation more or less finished, she pulled out her lunch box to start eating. It was then that Felix’s own stomach growled, and he coughed. The tension from their predicament caused him to forget the reason they were able to meet outside and talk in the first place.

“So.. I have a question.” Felix said as he pulled out his own lunch. “If that’s alright with you, of course.”

Marinette briefly glanced up from her soup. “..I guess.” 

Felix drew in a small breath. “Assuming you didn’t follow me like I did you.. how did you know who I was?”

Marinette jokingly sucked in a breath between her teeth, giving a ‘yikes’ expression. “Yeah~ my discovery wasn’t as nice as a simple stalking.”

Felix smiled. Seeing her jest brought him a small, renewed sense of hope that everything might turn out okay between them after all. “So? What happened?”

“Remember that night you came to my house after getting shot?” 

He actually grimaced and touched his side. “Do I? If I didn’t have Duusu, I’d still be wincing every time I breathed.”

“About that..” Marinette said, pulling on her pigtail slightly. “I may or may not have actually been the one to heal you.”

Felix blinked. That.. that made a lot of sense. “But Duusu never mentioned anything about you healing me?”

Marinette dropped her pigtail to push her fingers together as she explained, “When you passed out on my bed, you ended up detransforming too. That’s how I figured out your identity. Of course, I freaked out a bit, but you were still bleeding so I put that aside for the time being.”

A small smile crossed Felix’s lips. Only Marinette could push through a ‘huge reveal’ like that and talk as if it were nothing.

“It was around that time that my powers activated and healed your wound. Duusu was very sweet about the whole thing, and after a small conversation, she promised not to say anything unless you asked specifically.” Marinette finished. “You have no idea how frustrating it was. I couldn’t talk to you about the miraculous because I wasn’t ready to reveal myself yet, but you wouldn’t talk to Ladybug.”

Felix let out a sheepish laugh. “Right.. I’m sorry I put you through that.” 

Marinette shrugged. “Can’t take it back now.”

Felix nodded. No matter the amount of regret and guilt welling up inside him, he couldn’t change the past. He supposed he could soothe himself by saying it wasn’t all bad, though. Taking the peacock miraculous was undoubtedly a horrible decision, but it led to him seeing Marinette on a more personal level, which then led to a more personal friendship between them. Well, for him it did. She wasn’t aware of his identity at the time.

“Hold on.” Felix spoke up, sitting up slightly at his miniature revelation. “You said you figured out my identity when I passed out from the gunshot. That means you knew who I was when I kissed you.”

A blush bloomed across Marinette’s cheeks. “Well.. yes.”

“And you kissed me back.”

Her blush deepened. “Yep.”

Felix’s heart pounded in his chest. “So.. what does that mean?”

It was selfish and unfair to ask her such questions during these trying times, and some might say it should be obvious by now, but he wanted- no, he needed the confirmation. Did she love him or not?

“I..” Marinette fiddled with her utensil as she searched for words. “It’s complicated. I can’t say that I don’t love you-”

Felix sucked in a quiet breath. 

“-but it’s different now.” She answered honestly. “I just.. I need time. I’m still on the edge because of what you did, you know?” 

“Take all the time you need.” Felix responded, hoping his eagerness didn’t bleed through his voice. Marinette loved him! I mean, they’ve already kissed, like, twice, but still! Just to hear it from her lips made his heart nearly burst. 

A small smile graced Marinette’s lips, and she went back to eating, as Felix did a moment later. It was hard to eat when one’s entire body was buzzing with euphoria, though.

The bell rang a few minutes later, causing them to say their farewells to each other and separate. Felix knew there were still a decent amount of trials left to face before this was over, but after that confession.. He couldn’t help feeling a tad optimistic.

~~~~~~

It was commonplace for students to flood out of the classroom at the end of their last class, and although Marinette usually picked up the pace to leave, she was certain she’d made record time that day. Felix must have had the same idea, because he was at her side within seconds as well. She offered him a small glance, acknowledging his presence, but nothing more. 

The conversation they’d shared over lunch had been relieving to say the least. When he essentially told her that he still loved her, she nearly sank to the floor with the amount of weight that’d been suddenly lifted from her shoulders. That meant this dwindled down to Felix wanting to save his Mother and making the wrong decision to do so. However, Marinette didn’t want to let her guard down just yet. She had no way of knowing how informed Hawkmoth was on the situation. Even if Felix means well, there might be traps lying ahead of her at the Agreste Mansion that he’s unaware of. 

“By the way,” Felix spoke up, earning her gaze again, “Father may or may not have banned you from our house after your last visit, meaning we’ll have to be careful about your entrance.” 

Marinette pursed her lips. That probably shouldn’t surprise her. “When did this ‘banishment’ happen?”

Felix’s eyes flicked up briefly in thought. “Uh.. I think a few weeks ago? I meant to tell you before today, but things kept coming up.”

Marinette hummed, knowing the exact ‘things’ he was referring to.

“Oh, Marinette’s coming with us today?” 

Marinette turned to the new voice and saw Adrien exiting the classroom. She almost forgot that he’d be riding with them.

“She wanted to borrow a book from our Library,” Felix answered smoothly, “So I invited her over.”

Adrien smiled. “Great! I have to practice piano, but I trust Felix to help you out.” 

“Thanks.” Marinette said politely. I hope I can trust him too.

“So how did you get Father to agree to this?” Adrien asked next, mostly facing Felix now.

Marinette didn’t miss the subtle look of agitation that Felix shot his brother. 

“He doesn’t know.”

Adrien’s eyes widened, and an amused smirk slipped onto his lips. “Oh? How do you plan to get her inside then?”

Marinette crossed her arms, a smirk of her own creeping up. She’d like to know that answer as well.

Felix playfully rolled his eyes. “I have my ways.”

-

A shiver ran up Marinette’s spine as Felix led her through the back entrance to the Agreste Mansion. Who would’ve thought that the only secret way in and out was a walk-in freezer that connected to the outside world? It made her wonder how Felix managed to come across this little escape tactic. Was it pure coincidence? A mere observation when orders arrived? Or had he been actively searching for a hidden exit?

Goosebumps crawled across her skin, and she gave in slightly to the cold, letting herself shudder and rubbing her hands against her biceps for warmth.

Felix glanced over his shoulder at her, seeming blissfully untouched by the drop in temperature. “Are you cold?”

“What? Being cold in a freezer? Of course not! I was just about to take off my jacket.” Marinette retorted. 

Felix chuckled, his breath clouding in front of him. “I see we’ve resorted to sarcasm now? You must truly be at your limit.”

“Yes, it’s been a long day for all of us, I’m sure.” Marinette replied, pulling her jacket tighter around her.

Felix reached ahead and pushed open another metal door, revealing the kitchen area of the Mansion on the other side. Marinette didn’t hesitate to dash through the doorway. She shuddered again as the room temperature wrapped around her, neutralizing the previous chill of the air. Sweet, blessed heat.

“Is that better?” Felix asked, closing the metal door behind him.

Marinette nodded. “Much better, thank you.”

Felix offered a smile. “Of course. The library’s right around the corner.” 

The two made their way out of the kitchen and down the hall. Felix checked for Gabriel’s secretary or Gabriel himself, and when he called the all clear, they slipped into the library together. 

Marinette caught a glimpse of Adrien walking up the stairs as they moved. He noticed her too and shot her a wink. Marinette allowed herself a small smile at the sight. At least Adrien wasn’t knee-deep involved in this miraculous mess.

“Thank you for doing this.” Felix commented as he walked to one of the aisles. “It really does mean the world to me that you’re still willing to help Mother after everything we’ve done.”

Marinette shrugged, not missing the fact that he said ‘we’. It seemed strange that he would group Hawkmoth in with his actions in relation to his mother, as if this might have been a goal for his partner as well. “I’m the hero of Paris, right? I have a responsibility. I can’t just turn my back on the people who need me.”

Felix nodded. “Right..”

He stopped at the end of an aisle and brushed his fingers across the second to top shelf. Once he got to a certain point, Felix stopped and pulled out a couple of books. Behind the books lay a rectangle outline on the back of the shelf. Marinette watched with awe as he easily pulled the rectangle out of the wall, revealing a small drawer.

“When did you make that?” She asked, marveling at the detail.

“Well, when you have a Father like mine, you learn to-” Felix stopped short, his body stiffening.

Marinette frowned and took a step forward. “Felix? Are you okay?”

Felix didn’t respond, instead staring down at the drawer in disbelief. 

“They’re.. They’re gone.”

Marinette’s heart stopped.

“Gone?” She repeated. “What do you mean gone?”

“I-I mean gone!” Felix said, his voice quickly rising in panic. “They were right here! I put them in this pocket and went to bed, and I haven’t touched them since!”

Marinette to control her breathing as she took in his words. If the earrings weren’t here, where were they? “Felix, if this is some kind of trick-”

“No! I swear they were right here!”

“Indeed they were.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold when Gabriel’s voice rose behind them. Felix shot up as well, pure terror exploding across his face. The sight unnerved her to the core. She’d never seen Felix so scared.

“I’ll admit I’m impressed.” Gabriel mused. “That little drawer of yours is a magnificent hiding place. Had it not been for our security cameras, I don’t believe I would have found it.”

Marinette’s gaze flicked to the ceiling, where a tiny camera was placed. A touch of annoyance swirled through her mind. She should have known there would be cameras everywhere.

“I have to say I’m disappointed, Felix.” The man continued. “I gave you the opportunity to help your poor, sick Mother, and what do you do? You lie and go behind your own Father’s back. I wasn’t even aware you knew who Ladybug was, let alone that you got her earrings.”

Despite the fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through her, along with the steadily growing horror, Marinette turned to face Gabriel. The news that Felix had been acting of his own accord the entire time surprised her, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. Only two people aside from herself and Felix knew about Felix’s motives or the fact that he was Le Paon, and Gabriel Agreste certainly wasn’t Master Fu. 

“Hawkmoth.” She said, her hands clenching at her sides. It wasn’t a question.

Gabriel looked down at her, a disturbing, small smile creeping onto his lips. He didn’t appear to be bothered in the slightest that she’d discovered his identity. 

She felt Felix take a step closer to her.

“Ah, Mlle. Dupain Cheng.” Gabriel purred. His eyes shined with absolute glee in a horrible, psychotic way, like he’d finally lured his prey into the perfect trap. “I thought I made it quite clear that you are not welcome on my estate, but my son clearly has trouble following the rules. However, I have to wonder: Why would he bring you to the miraculous’ hiding place? Perhaps Felix decided to show me Ladybug’s identity after all.”

“Father that’s enough.” Felix stated sternly, finally regaining his voice. He stepped around Marinette, putting a make-shift barrier between her and Gabriel. “There’s no need to fight. Marinette has a solution to heal Mother without the wish! She just needs her earrings back to do it.”

Gabriel scoffed, his smile immediately fading. “Don’t be naive. She only wants her earrings back! You think she won’t say anything to get them?”

Marinette saw the edges of Felix’s expression fall.

“Isn’t it worth trying?” He continued, his voice falling from stern to pleading. “We can’t use the wish, or someone else will get hurt. There’s a curse that comes with it. If we save her life with the wish, someone has to take her place.”

“You wouldn’t sacrifice anything to have her back? To be a family again?” Gabriel shot back. 

“Not when we don’t have to!” Felix countered. “We don’t even have Chat Noir’s ring yet. The least we can do is try to heal her peacefully without consequences!”

“So you’re choosing that brat over me? Your Father?” Gabriel asked, his eyes narrowing with disgust and disapproval. 

Felix clenched his fists. “You’re choosing to sacrifice someone’s life over saving everyone!”

“No.” Marinette spoke up, having enough. How could a father pull their own son into terrorist attacks? How could he push Felix into danger time and time again with no remorse? It was unspeakable!

She stepped forward and stood tall as she continued, “He only wants the power. This stopped being about Emilie and family a long time ago.”

Gabriel scowled. “How dare you question my integrity! Losing Emilie was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and I will do anything to get her back!”

“Where are my miraculous?” She demanded, ignoring his ‘righteous fury’.

“Safe.” He responded sharply. “And out of your reach.”

“I won’t let you use the wish.”

A grim smile twisted onto Gabriel’s lips once more. “I’d like to see you try now that you’re powerless.”

Marinette was tempted to smile herself as she grabbed the peacock miraculous from her back pocket. “Not quite.”

Let’s see what Felix miraculous can really do.

Tag List:  @im-here-for-the-content @novicevoice @mewwitch@minightrose @starlit-winter @multishipper1needshalp@unabashedbookworm @unholykrow @trubel43@kaydenth3gayden @stardustrevoutionx @legendaryneckjudgestudent @aurordraws @crazylittlemunchkin @uwuteamleader @chocolatecustarddanish @iambi-thilla-meena @corabeth11 @asianfrustration13  @chrismarium @agumon1123 @luciferge @yue-caelum @persephonebutkore @constancetruggle @make-the-stars-stay @johnlockfeelz @imfreakingmagical @tinybrie @procrastinatingrightnow @bee-wrecker @dontcallmecedge @shadowhex99 @daminette-is-life @thethirdwheelfriend @myazael @sizzling-fairy-oil @sparkle9510 @chaosace​ @the-navistar-carol​ @sannsibarr​ @grumpy-vixen-kitten​ @hauntedfreakdeputyhero​ @utcaro​ @more-or-less-human-i-guess @mlbutatbspofsalt @dawn-the-rithmatist @artcart0n @mermaidreject @tori-mmm  @fifaanayd  @novicevoice  @dreamykitty25 @mischief-not-managed-posts @amayakans  @arsaem  @athena452 @pink-and-bunny

[hearteyesbowen]

twenty-dollar baby ☆ ricky bowen

big red thinks that ricky’s lost his touch and isn’t as smooth as he used to be, so they make a bet to see who is right

warnings: swearing, kinda cliché, fluff

part I , part II , part III

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Big Red and Ricky were sitting at their usual lunch spot, staring at his now ex-girlfriend, Nini Salazar-Roberts. It had only been two weeks since school started again and Ricky was still angry at how Nini had moved on so fast. He believed that they were only on a break, just so he could wrap his head around the whole “I love you” drama.

“You know, the more you stare, the creepier you look.” Big Red teased, nudging his best friend.

“I’m so over Nini now. How could she just find a senior boyfriend so fast?” Ricky complained.

“You broke up with her, dude.”

“It was a pause!”

Ricky stopped himself from getting any louder. He ruffled his hair, trying to destress himself. He pushed his lunch tray to the side, clearly losing his appetite over his anger.

“I should move on, too. I’ll start dating again.” Ricky declared.

Red scoffed, “Good luck.”

Ricky snapped his head at Red, raising an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’ve lost your game. You were in a relationship for almost a year, how would you know how to get another girl?”

“You’re so supportive, you know that?”

Red rolled his eyes, pushing his tray away and sitting up. “I’ll bet you $20 that you can’t get another girlfriend in a week.”

“Excuse me?” Ricky asked in disbelief.

Red quickly scanned the cafeteria, looking for a girl that he can give to challenge Ricky. His eyes found you, sitting at a table in the center with your best friend Carlos. You were sitting extremely close with him as you he had his phone out to show you some videos.

Red smacked Ricky’s arm and pointed towards you, “I bet you can’t get Y/N to be your girlfriend.”

“What? No, I don’t want to be a dick. She’s super nice and literally in all my classes. Plus, I don’t need a bet to prove that I can get a girl.”

“You auditioned for a musical just to get Nini back and she’s still dating her new boyfriend and doesn’t even want to look at you.” Red pointed out.

Ricky sighed, staring at you from across the lunch area. Strands of your hair framed your face. Your head was laid on Carlos’ shoulder as you stared at his phone screen. Ricky never denied that you were pretty, in fact, he thought you were one of the most beautiful girls in the school. Everything about you captivated him, it was like you had him under this spell for the longest time.

You and Ricky shared almost every class with him. Only meeting at the end of your sophomore year, you both grew a treasured friendship. He would always try and get you to laugh during lessons, sometimes getting you both in trouble. If you were lucky, the teacher would let you two partner up for class projects. You thought he was cute, really cute. You never thought could like him, maybe because he didn’t seem like your type or that he had a girlfriend for a year. When they broke up during the summer, you made sure to check up on him whenever you could. He would ask you to hang out a majority of the time, so you grew even closer.

Ricky’s ego was building up, and maybe it was because his best friend was playing with his emotions, but he decided that he would take the bet. He knew he would have regretted this choice completely, but that’s a problem for later.

“Fine, in one week, I’ll get Y/N to be my girlfriend.”

Ricky and Red shook hands, finalizing their new deal.

➢➣ ➢➣

You rolled your eyes the more your teacher lectured minutes before the final bell rang. You rested your head on your chin, doodling swirls all over your notebook where your notes were supposed to be.

“Make sure you keep in touch with your partner, I’ll give you some class time tomorrow to finish the assignment.” Your teacher closed his textbook and walked to his desk as everyone packed their things.

You sat up and closed your notebook. You stuffed it inside your backpack, tuning out all of the noise of kids laughing and talking loudly. You took out your phone and your earphones, plugging them into your ears when you felt a small object hit your head. Your head looked to the floor where the item fell, and you found a tiny paper ball. You laughed and looked a few desks in front of you to your friend. Ricky was already staring at you, smiling to himself as he got up with his backpack and squeezed through the aisle to get to your seat.

“There wasn’t any other way for you to get my attention?” You wondered, picking up the ball and throwing it back at him.

Ricky laughed and kneeled in front of you, “I tried to call you but you ignored me. It’s your fault for sitting in the back.”

“No, it’s your fault for getting moved for distracting me from learning.” You teased.

The last bell of the day rang, making everyone in class shove each other out the door. You stood up with Ricky who grabbed your backpack for you, and you both headed out the class. He grabbed the door handle before you could and held it open, letting you pass through first.

You gave him a confused look, “Who let you be a gentleman today?”

Ricky’s mouth grew open in shock, “I can’t just be nice to my friend?”

“No, you’re a dick.”

“Wow, you and Red both make me feel so much better about myself.” He joked.

You walked down the staircase to the bottom floor. The theatre door was ahead, meaning you and Ricky had to part ways.

You tilted your head, “What did he tease you for this time?”

Ricky’s eyes widened, averting from yours. He scratched the back of his neck, “The usual.”

You laughed, said bye and started to walk away, assuming Ricky would just walked into rehearsal. Before you could take two steps away from him, he called for your attention.

“Y/N.”

You turned around on your heels, facing the anxious boy. He stood with his hands in his pockets, swaying back and forth on his feet. His mouth was open, as if trying to find what to say.

“Ricky?” You asked, stepping closer to him.

“What are you doing later?” His voice was soft, almost nervous.

“Nothing, why?”

“I have rehearsal for only an hour today, we’re ending early. Maybe I can pick you up and we can go out?”

You were now face-to-face with him. He had a timid smile, anticipating your response. You smiled brightly at him, easing his anxiousness.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Ricky Bowen?”

His lips grew wider, relieved of your reaction, “What if I am?”

“Then I would love to go on a date with you.”

Ricky sighed, making you giggle. He wrapped his large arms around your body for a tight hug. Your hands went around his neck as he lifted you off the floor for a few seconds. Once you were set back down, he checked the time on his phone.

“I’ll pick you up at 4:30?”

You stood on your toes to kiss his cheek lightly.

“Don’t be late.”

➢➣ ➢➣

Looking in the mirror, you finished checking yourself to make sure you were ready for your date. You finished fixing your hair, making sure it’s perfectly smooth.

You don’t know why you were so excited about going out on a date with Ricky. Sure, you thought he was cute, but you never thought of him that way. He was always really nice to you, and made sure you were ok after anything happened to you. Maybe it was because of how close you two got recently, but something felt different with him.

Ricky had sent you a text five minutes ago that he was on his way to pick you up, so you picked up your small purse and opened your bedroom door to leave.

“Y/N, Ricky is here for you!” Your mother called out from the living room.

You walked through the hall and saw Ricky in front of the door next to your mother, holding a small bouquet of red and yellow roses. He wasn’t dressed formal, just a light sweatshirt and jeans. You practically matched him, mostly because you didn’t know what his plans were for the date.

His eyes looked you up and down, his lips were parted slightly. “You look beautiful.”

You stood in front of him and smiled as he offered you the roses. “Thank you very much. You look handsome.”

His face grew pink, making your mom laugh behind you. “Remember what we talked about, alright?”

Ricky nodded his head furiously as he held your hand, “You can trust me.”

He sent a wink to your mother before he opened the door. You waved goodbye to her and closed the door behind you once you got out. You turned and saw Ricky’s small car parked in your driveway.

“Sorry it’s not some sports car, but I hope it will do.” He said nervously.

You laughed, “Anything will be fine. I’m just not sure what we’re doing today.”

Ricky opened your door for you, ushering you inside. You got in and watched as Ricky closed the door and ran around the car to his side and sat inside as wel.

“I’ve learned a thing or two about dates. Not sure if I’m any good at it yet but I’m learning. But I thought it would be nice if we go to the pier.”

“Like, the beach?”

“Yeah, why? You don’t like the beach?”

You scrunched up your nose and hid your face in shame. Ricky put his hand on your shoulder, his face in awe.

“How do you not like the beach?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Just never did.”

“I’ll try and make this the best date ever. We don’t even have to go near the sand, the pier is way more fun anyways.”

“Well this is a step up from any date I’ve been on.”

Ricky started the car, letting the engine run for a few minutes. Confused, he tilted his head towards you.

“What do you mean?”

Great, now you get to look like a loser in front of your date. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, clearing your throat and fixing your hair, a habit you developed when you get nervous.

Ricky put his hand on top of yours which rested on your lap. You faced him, a small grin on your face.

“Have you never been on a date before?” He wondered. You shook your head slowly. Your head grew hot from the embarrassment. “Am I your first ever date?”

“I feel pathetic now.”

“No, no, no, don’t feel that way” He promptly put his hand on your shoulder. “I promise to make this the best date you will ever go on.”

➢➣ ➢➣

The sun was already beginning to set by the time you both made it to the pier. The beach was tame, not many people were swimming, mostly families running around with each other in the sand or friends starting bonfires in the charcoal pits towards the center of the beach. The pier wasn’t as full, either. Other, older, couples were walking together, holding hands or dining together at the restaurants. It was fully lit with lamps on the sides of the fencing blocking you from the sand. Any other light came from the sun already dimming away.

You didn’t know what to focus on first. Everything about the atmosphere was so breathtaking. To think that you had never gone out to see beautiful spots like this was a crime.

Ricky made sure to hold your hand the entire way, keeping you from running off to the numerous sites that caught your attention. He couldn’t help but be amazed at how beautiful he thought you looked in front of him. It almost made him forget this wasn’t real.

You dragged Ricky to the edge of the pier, staring straight ahead at the ocean in front of you. The sun was barely showing anymore, and all the colors molded together from day to night. You stepped on the fence and leaned over, gazing down at the water below you. Ricky’s strong arms held you at your waist, preventing you from falling over.

“I’ve never seen anything like this, or anything this beautiful.” You awed, stepping down from the rail.

Ricky’s arms stayed wrapped around your body and nestled his head in your neck. “I can think of something.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and laughed as you turned around to face him. “You’re really cute.”

His eyes glanced at your lips the more you stared at each other in silence. Your hands rested on his shoulders as you leaned up hastily. Ricky followed your actions, his breath shaky.

Ricky’s loud ringtone interrupted your possible kiss, making him scrunch you his face in frustration.

“Sorry, I should have silenced my phone.” He apologized, bringing out his phone to see it was a call from Red.

You shook your head, laughing slightly, “It’s fine, answer it. I’ll be here.”

He was quick to kiss your cheek before answering his phone and taking two steps away from you. As much as you knew it would be rude, you were curious as to what Big Red could have called for. Fortunately, you could make out some of what he was saying through the phone, and all of Ricky’s responses.

“Yeah, I’m with Y/N. Why?”

You turned your head slightly, your attention fully in their conversation at the sound of your name.

“So is it going to happen tonight?”

“Dude, don’t say that. Be respectful, you dick.”

You laughed at the way Ricky and his friend fought. He struggled to hang up with Red. The look of impatience on his face grew more and more. Boys are so stupid.

Once he was finally able to hang up, he shoved his phone in his pocket and turned back to you.

“Do you want to get ice cream?” He offered, holding out his hand.

You walked up to him and held his hand, “I would love to.”

➢➣ ➢➣

The sun had already set completely, so the pier looked even more gorgeous. Lights coming from the inside of shops and restaurants lit up the walkway along with the lamps. Less people filled the area, most of them leaving to the sand.

You and Ricky had just bought your ice cream, almost finished with it immediately. Your plan was to go to the arcade. He challenged you to play against him in Guitar Hero, so you simply couldn’t back down. This night was far too perfect for you, it was almost like a dream.

Ricky, on the other hand, couldn’t keep steady. He bounced his leg or fumbled with his hands when they weren’t holding yours. It’s not like he wasn’t trying to take you out on a nice date, he wanted to make this as special as he could for you. He never truly realized how much he really did like you until now. You made him feel something he never felt when he was with Nini.

Ricky’s problem was that he was still lying to you. He didn’t ask you out because he has loved you since you two met, or at least that’s what he wished was the case. He wishes that he discovered this emotion towards you early, that it could have been different. He still made a bet, a $20 bet that was just useless at this point. But when would he tell you this is what aches him the most.

“I need to tell you something, Y/N.”

You stopped walking along the pier and stared at him confusingly while you threw away the spoon with your finished ice cream, “Is everything alright?”

He toyed with the spoon inside of his almost empty cup, not able to look at you. “I seriously need you to know something, but I’m really scared that you will hate me forever.”

You rubbed his arm soothingly, hoping he would look at you. When he did slowly move his head up to you, you gave him a soft smile.

“I could never be mad at you. Ricky. Especially after everything you have done for me tonight. You’re the nicest guy ever.”

His eyes saddened. His foot tapped rapidly along the wooden flooring, and his upper body looked as if he tensed up. One of his hands went to his eyes, rubbing his temples furiously.

“I just feel bad.” He mumbled, still covering half of his face.

“Why?” You wondered, feeling petrified of his tone.

Ricky lifted his head again from his hands and had a smirk displayed across his face. “I feel bad that I’m going to beat you at every single game in that arcade.”

Your whole body relaxed at his response. You let out a relieved laugh and picked up the spoon from his cup that had the smallest scoop of chocolate ice cream.

“Yeah, but at least I don’t have chocolate on my face.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

You gave a sinister grin as you took the spoon and smeared it on the top of his cheek and across his nose. You laughed and threw the utensil in the trash near you.

He groaned, throwing the cup away as well. He wiped his face with a napkin he had and eyed you down. “You’re going to get it.”

You bolted off immediately away from Ricky, who was still cleaning up his face from the chocolate. You went inside the arcade, knowing he would chase you down.

You ran around the children and teens playing in front of the large machines, hoping you would lose Ricky as quickly as possible. You tried to find something large to hide behind so you could watch out for him. Soon, you found a large basketball game that was set up on the side of the wall towards the back. You ran to the machine and ducked down, trying to see if you could spot him.

After a few short minutes of looking, you couldn’t find Ricky anywhere. You thought that maybe he just completely lost you. Well, he didn’t.

Once you stood up to try and get a better look around the area, a pair of strong hands grabbed you from behind and picked you up. You screamed, only to hear a familiar laugh from the person who grabbed at you.

“You aren’t good at hiding.” Ricky teased as he set you down.

You faced him, still being held in his arms and quickly greeted with his devilish smile. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get too cocky.”

“Sorry, loser.” He joked, bringing you closer to his body.

You decided to make the bold move and lean up to plant your lips on his. You held at his neck and stood up on your toes higher to meet his height. Ricky was completely shocked, but only for a second so he could kiss you back. Your lips molded together perfectly, making you feel warm. Although it was short, you didn’t think it was anything less than perfect.

You pulled away after a few seconds, and giggled at his peaceful face. His eyes stayed closed, along with a small smile.

“Wake me up when I’m done dreaming.” Ricky whispered.

You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, making him open his eyes. He pecked your lips once more, making you giggle. You held his hand and led him to one of the games you ran past earlier.

As you both walked around, Ricky felt another buzz from his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the notification.

Big Red 🔥

Nini and EJ broke up, and I’m pretty sure it’s because of you.

A/N - we love a cliffhanger lol this is for sure going to be a longer series ( maybe not too long but longer than two parts ) . hope u guys like this one !! also i hope u guys are home , staying safe and healthy , and all that stuff cuz we’re not trying to spread and catch diseases ): love y’all xx

[multiharlot]

real life spencer / matthew gray gubler x reader

summary: in which matthew meets the woman who inspired the man that’s stolen the hearts of america.

masterlist

part two

third person pov

the girl walked timidly through the busy filming set, clutching her hands around the strap of her shoulder bag. she approaches the studio doors, rocking awkwardly on her white low top vans and running her hand through her hair. her yellow midi skirt swayed softly over her legs as the warm los angeles breeze floated through her white button up. the doors open suddenly and she jumps back, nearly tripping over herself. 

“you must be, y/n. i’m jeff davis, thank you for coming in today.” the man smiles, sticking his hand out to the girl. 

her mouth opens and closes before she smiles. 

“hi. sorry umm...germ thing.” she chuckled awkwardly. 

“oh. oh right i’m sorry. come in and meet the cast.” he says, wiping his hands on his pants and opening the door wider.

she stepped into the doors, tucking her hair behind her ears and waiting for jeff to lead the way. 

“we really appreciate you being here and consulting with us. we want to make this show as real as possible.” he explains as he leads her towards the writers room. 

“of course, i’m happy to help. you did decide to base a character off of me, it’s the least i can do.” she nods, the thought in her mind made her feel slightly awkward, but grateful nonetheless. 

“yes, the cast is so excited to meet you by the way. we all were. it’s not everyday you get to meet a real life genius.” he chuckles. 

“technically, passing the IQ test only determines that you have a certain IQ. a large portion of those with higher IQ’s aren’t all that smart. high IQ’s couldn’t determine your true intelligence, never mind a genius.” she shrugs, silently reveling in the fact that yet another person had called her a genius. 

she secretly hated the term genius. as complimenting as it was, the word had hung over her head her entire life. she herself never believe she was a genius, and the word alone made her feel as though she had to meet a certain quota. the idea of being a genius held her to a standard that she felt she couldn’t meet. 

“right...well i mean, you do have an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory. so...you’re the most genius non-genius i’ve ever met.” jeff shrugged, stopping in front of the white door. 

“yeah...” the girl trails off, stopping beside him. 

“well this is the writer’s room, and this is our cast. everyone, meet agent- sorry, dr. y/n y/l/n. doctor, i give you the criminal minds cast.” jeff smiles as he opens the door, leading the girl into the room. 

she rocked awkwardly on her sneakers, waving timidly. 

“oh you’re so cute!” kirsten squeals, wrapping her arms around the girl, making her jump back. 

“sorry. ah. i’m sorry. i just uhh...germ thing.” she chuckles, making kirsten blush. 

“oh. oh i’m so sorry. i’m just a hugger.”

“that’s okay. you know our tendency to engage in physical touch is often a product of our upbringing. those of us who’s parents weren’t as physically demonstrative tend to disengage from activities like hugging, or even something as simple as a pat on the back.” the girl rambles nervously, making everyone in the room pause. 

“although, some children tend to have the exact opposite effect, leading to a starvation for human physical interaction, which in turn actually turns them into huggers.” matthew smiles widely at the girl. 

she blushes, and a nervous chuckle escapes her lips.

“you must be dr. spencer reid, nice to meet you.” she smiles, nodding her head at the man. 

“my name is matthew. matthew gray gubler. and it’s nice to meet you too, doctor.” he smirks, looking the girl up at down. 

shemar raises his eyebrow at him, an impressed smirk growing onto his face. 

“right, well, y/n here has graciously taken the day off to help assist in our terminology and making this show as realistic as possible. so, let’s get started.” jeff smiles, closing the door behind him. 

the room buzzes with light chatter as everyone begins taking their seats. y/n stood awkwardly off to the side, unsure of where she would be going. matthew takes note of this, and smiles softly, standing from his chair and walking over to her. 

“you can come sit next to me.” he smiles. 

“o-okay.” she nods, clutching the strap of her bag tightly and following beside him. 

the cast all exchange knowing looks as they looked from each other to the pair off in their own little world. 

“so, tell me, is working in the fbi as hectic as we’re making it seem?” matthew asks, leaning his head on his hands. 

“yes and no. we’re more of a sub-unit within the national center for the analysis of violent crimes. there are a total of six different behavioral analysis units, each of us working for a different type of crime.” she explains as the writers scribbled across their notepads feverishly. 

“and which one are you on?” thomas asks, and she smiles as she looks at the man. 

“i work in analysis unit 4, which is crimes against adults and we also work hand in hand with the violent criminal apprehension program, also known as ViCap.”

“is it true you graduated high school at twelve? or did jeff just make that up?” kirsten asks, her eyes wide and curious. 

“thirteen. not twelve. and after high school, i attended Stanford, Cal Tech, and then Harvard where i was immediately recruited by the US government. i’m not supposed to tell you this, but it’s true what they say about those who take math 55.”

“how many PhD’s do you have?” aj asks as she leans onto the table.

“two. chemistry and clinical psychology. and i also have a master’s degree in neurobiology.”

“did they wave you through the academy the same way they did pretty boy, here?” shemar asks, ruffling the top of matthew’s head. 

“no they did not. i actually went through the training, same as everyone else. one thing that isn’t accurate about this show, however, is that our agents are actually required to take a certain amount of personal days per month, and there’s a mandatory 12 hours of counseling with our building psychologist that we have to complete every month.” 

“how many personal days?” matthew asks, a flirtatious smile slapped on his face causing the butterflies to go into a frenzy in y/n’s stomach. 

“u-um. i have a quota of three days per month. so i usually take a long weekend at the end of every month.” she smiles, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears. 

“do you carry a gun? oh! can we see your credentials?” aj gasps, almost excitedly. 

“i do. but only when i’m on the job. otherwise, i don’t like having them. and uhh..yeah sure.” y/n mumbles, rummaging through her purse and pulling out both her credentials and her identification card. 

y/n hands them to matthew and his fingers graze lightly over hers, causing a blush to form over her cheeks. he passes them along to the rest of the cast and he then looks down at the girl next to him. 

“can i draw you?”

“only if i can draw you.”

matthew chuckles, nodding his head. and the two mindlessly doodled each other as the meeting went on. y/n answered what seemed like an endless amount of questions and matthew simply stared her. her eyes, her nose, her lips. he found her absolutely beautiful, and he couldn’t manage to tear his eyes away from her for longer than 2 minutes at a time. as y/n finished her one line doodle of matthew, she scribbled a quick note at the bottom of the page, and tore it out of her notebook. matthew ripped the page from his, ready to hand it to the girl when jeff interrupted them. 

“alright guys, we’ll see you tomorrow. and thank you, dr. y/l/n, for coming in. i can’t explain how informative you’ve been.”

odd choice of words, she thought. but she nodded, saying you’re welcome nonetheless. 

everyone began to exit the room and matthew called out for the doctor, stopping her in her tracks. she looks up at him only realize just how tall he really was. 

“here.” he smiled, handing over the paper. 

to: the real life spencer reid from: gatthew may bugler

she giggled as she opened the page, seeing the truly abstract drawing of herself. 

“this is actually really good.” she smiled, staring down at the page. 

“thank you. it helped to have such a beautiful model.” he says, biting his lip nervously. 

a blush covered her cheeks and her ears and she giggled nervously. 

“well umm...here.” she says, handing over her page. 

when he folds open the paper, his mouth falls open at the beautiful one-line drawing she had done of him. then, his eyes fall to the bottom of the page, and his mouth runs dry.

“umm..give me a call if you need any...character reference.” she says as she rocks back and forth on her feet. 

“can i call you even if i don’t need any character reference?”

she smiles, nodding her head. 

“would uh...would you maybe want to go grab lunch with me?” he asks, scratching nervously at the back of his neck.

she opens her mouth to say something when her phone rings out. her eyebrows furrow as she pulls her phone out of her bag, her partners name across the top. 

“sorry, this’ll just take a second- i’m on my personal time, fields.” she sighs into the phone. 

“no no i know. so am i. and i also know you’re in los angeles. wanna go check out the bureau offices?”

“sorry, i have plans.” y/n shrugs, staring up at matthew. 

“oh do you? doing what?” fields questions. 

y/n bites her lip, reaching over and grabbing matthew’s hand. 

“someone’s taking me to lunch” she smiles, pulling matthew towards the studio exit and hanging up the phone.

“so, where are we going mr. bugler?” she smiles. 

“i thought you had a germ thing.” he says, raising an eyebrow at their intertwined hands.

“i’ll make an exception for you.” she shrugs, making him smile. 

“well, how does chinese sound?”

“perfect..as long as i don’t have to use those god awful chopsticks.”

“a PhD in engineering yet you can’t use chopsticks?”

“excuse you. dr. reid is the one with the PhD in engineering. i only have PhD’s in chemistry and psychology.”

“oh. yeah. only.”

taglist:

@dreatine​ @slytherinintj13​ @mileven-reddie​ @eleventhdoctorsangel​ @haileymorelikestupid

[kookoosbunnynose]

Ch.1 || Ch.2

Pairing: Neighbor!Jungkook/FWB!Jungkook x Artist!Reader

Genre: Slowburn, Smut, Angst, Humor

Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: Cursing | Slutty Jimin, we love him | mentions of emotional abuse | large jungcock | dom!jungkook | dom/sub themes |a singular use of a sir kink | dirty talk, lots | oral (f recieving) | he so gentle uwu, and then he’s very not gentle lmao

Summary: You’re an art student in need of a partner for your new collaboration piece, who is there to help you but your new neighbor, Jeon Jungkook. You two paint together but leave with much more than a colorful canvas.

A/N: Hello! I know! Dumb bitch finally updated the fic lmao. but i’m really excited about this part and even more excited for the rest of the fic. If you haven’t read chapter 1 yet go read it! 

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

Thankfully, even though you didn’t get to bed by the time you wanted last night, after the whole ‘y/n is a dumbass and got locked out’ debacle, you woke up with enough time to take it slow this morning. Mornings like these were your favorite, no rush. Just you sitting at your vanity getting ready for your day, jamming along to whatever song comes on your shuffle, using various items as a makeshift microphone.

You’re in the heat of Colors by Halsey when there’s a knock at your door, you abruptly cut off your poorly tuned melody, feeling caught. You quickly finish the eyebrow you’re working on as you don’t want the person at the door to see you with the one and a half you’re currently sporting. Good enough.

You rush to your front door, careful not to let your fluffy socks make you slip on the linoleum. When you open the door only to be greeted by your fluffy haired neighbor. He looks good in the morning too? Well that’s just fucking peachy. You’re making this difficult Jeon.

“Good morning.” You smile trying to hide how distraught you are.

“Good morning, sorry to bug you” he smiles sheepishly. “I was just hoping I could steal an egg from you? We’re out.” He asks hopeful.

“Oh, yeah of course. Just a second.” You turn on your heels to grab an egg from the kitchen. When your face is hidden by the fridge door you take a second to take a deep breath before making your way back to him. “Just one?” You ask when you hand it to him.

“Yeah one’s good, thank you y/n.” He gives you a small bow and opens his door. “See you later.”

---

“Hello gorgeous.” Yoongi says as your trio approaches the counter.

“Morning handsome.” Jimin smirks and steps in front of you.

“I was talking to y/n.”

“Her?” He looks over his shoulder at you. “While I’m here? That doesn’t sound right.” He scrunches his nose as if he’s doing mental math.

“I’ll just get your usual started.” He says leaning to the side so he can see your face.

“Thank you.” You laugh at them swipe your card and take the blueberry muffin he slides your way. You step to the side and wait for your boys to order their drinks.

“Remind me why we still come here.” Joon asks the two of you as you make your way to the pick-up end of the counter.

“Because we’ve been doing it since we started uni. We’re old and stuck in our ways, Joonie. There’s no backing out now.” You reply woefully.

“What are we? Boomers? We can go to a different coffee shop.” Namjoon furrows his brows.

“Order for Sweets!” A now familiar boxy smiled boy behind the counter says.

“Oh no we can’t. Not anymore.” Jimin says his attention caught by Tae.

“Look who wants to fuck the neighbors now!” You whisper yell at them before stepping toward the counter.

“Ha! You admit it!- Wait, neighbor?” You hear Jimin behind you.

“Hi Tae! Thank you.”

“Hello y/n!” He smiles and leans in to make his voice hushed. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you and Yoongi a thing? He covers like half your bill and calls you pet names everyday.” He lists off the, admittedly odd, circumstances of your relationship. 

“Oh, no we’re not. We just flirt back and forth. I think if he had any real intention behind it he would’ve asked me out by now, in my experience he’s pretty straight forward.” You chuckle.

“Ah okay. Would you want him to ask you out?”

“I did in the beginning but it’s been well over a year. As far as he goes, I’m sated with just the flirting.” 

“Ah, I see.” He turns away to grab the next two cups. “Orders for Jimin and Namjoon!” He calls over.

“Why do you ask?”

He pauses for a second. “I was just curious, he’s kinda like that with a couple girls but you seem to be his favorite.”

“Well it’s been a while, seniority I guess.” You shrug and your counterparts join you at the counter. “Oh how rude of me, these are my roommates. This is Taehyung.”

“Ah, nice to meet you, I’ll probably be seeing you guys a lot. I’m across the hall pretty often.” You all chuckle. “I wish I could talk longer but I don’t want to hold up the line, see you!” He smiles. 

The three of you give various forms of a goodbye as you leave to find your usual table. 

“Okay, is no one gonna say it?” Jimin says once you’re seated and safely out of ear shot.

“Say what?” Namjoon asks scrunching his face at his hot coffee.

“What do you mean ‘say what?’” Jimin says blinking slowly at your brother. “What is in those boys’ cheerios?” 

“Fiber?”

“No! You fucking tree!” 

“Y/n really? Now he’s calling me that, too?” You shrug.

---

You take a breath in as you walk into the art studio, the smell of paint and pencil lead tickling your nose. You take your usual seat at a large table and check your phone for your list of assignments. The professor sends you a large list of all the assignments at the beginning of the semester. Giving students the freedom to choose what order they do them in, the only stipulation is that you must have half turned in by midterms and the other half by the end of the semester. A much more doable lesson plan than a lot of your past professors. Being forced to be creative is draining and doesn’t get you far.

You scan down the list of possibilities until you find one that catches your eye. Monochromatic self portrait (any color)? No. Pretend you have synesthesia and illustrate your favorite song? Eh, not today. Collaboration piece? Ugh, I can’t even if I wanted to. I need to find someone to work with. Create 5 random custom colors and paint a landscape using only those colors (5”x5”)? Sounds like I could get that done before I leave. Perfect.

You pop in your earbuds and get to work. Deciding acrylic would be best for a quick painting, you grab a pallet and a sizable glob of each of the primary colors along with black and white. A little red here, a little yellow there, and some white for this one. You continue putting in different combinations until you have five colors you’re happy with not worrying if they’ll make sense for scenery. Fuck it. Who says trees can’t be purple? 

As you dip your brush into your small selection of paints and watch the way the colors glide onto the canvas, it makes a sense of ease wash over you. Breathing life into a piece no matter how simple creates a new little reality in it’s own right. Expands our universe one brush stroke at a time. In the least cringy art kid way possible, of course.

You continue your work, mouthing along to your music as you go. Rust tinted grass and a peachy sky coming together in a way that definitely isn’t realism but ends up having a sunset feel due to the warm hues you chose. Just a few touch ups here and there and you’re done.

You pack up your things and head home with your new little creation to dry completely overnight. It’s already mostly dry but the textured parts still have a way to go. 

---

  “I really need to go grocery shopping. Thank you again, y/n.” Bunny teeth shining as he leaves your apartment with a mug of tea in place of the hot water he showed up with.

Today is day… eight? Of a new routine has developed over the course of the week. Everyday without fail, whether it be morning or evening, an egg or a cup of milk. Jungkook comes over and asks for a small food item, thanks you, and returns home. No big deal, but it’s apparent that those idiots really need to restock their fridge. It’s like having a stray cat that comes around every night after you feed it once. A really big stray cat… with pretty hair, and a cute lip mole, that always smells like fresh laundry and citrus… anyway-

Time to officially start the day and pretend that little mental tangent didn’t just happen. Go team!

You finish doing some light makeup and throw on some ripped mom jeans and a black hoodie. Enough effort to look like you care, but still comfy. You throw your bag over your shoulder, slip your boots on and head out the door.

Finding parking on campus at this time of day is a nightmare and usually takes longer than just walking since you live just off school grounds. So you make your short walk and stop by the cafe by yourself. You usually go alone only once a week; there’s only one day where you’re the only one of your roomies to have a morning class. 

You order, give Tae his morning hello and make your way to class. 

Classes pass with relative ease. You listen and take notes; taking notes more so meaning doodling along the margins of your notebook than anything else. Really putting those scholarships to good use. 

Art history, meeting with the theater department about painting props, studio, home. 

You enter your apartment and are met with Jimin and Namjoon sitting on the couch about to start the obligatory bi-monthy screening of Your Name. 

“Hey! Were you gonna start the movie without me?” You kick off your shoes and take a running leap onto your spot on the couch.

“No! We were waiting for you, we’re not monsters.” Namjoon retorts in defense.

“That’s exactly what someone who wasn’t waiting for me would say.” You narrow your eyes at your little brother at the other end of the couch.

“Would you two stop bickering for two seconds. It’s starting.” Jimin puts a hand over both your mouths from his spot between you.

“Sheesh, grumpy pants.” You grumble when he lowers his arms.

The movie is filled with the same sobs and ‘awe’s that it always is, always ending in tears for at least one of you. Breathtaking animation coupled with a heart wrenching story, no matter how many times you watch it, it never fails to amaze. As much as you would’ve loved more closure at the end of the movie, the ambiguous ending couldn’t be more poetic. 

“Joonie, what would you do if we switched bodies?” You turn to your brother as the credits roll.

“Probably get a discounted coffee.” He deadpans.

“Oh, you’re no fun!”

“More money in my bank account sounds very fun.” 

Your retort cut off by a knock at the door from your neighbor for his daily snack, so you settle for throwing the pillow sitting in your lap in his direction as you stand. Which he tries to swat away only to end up with a faceful of cushion. Ha, get got bitch.

“Do you need an egg?” You say as you open the door.

“Uh- No I’m good? Thank you for asking.” Tae chuckles, you freeze your eyes widening.

“Oh my god, I thought you were Jungkook.” You let out a stiff laugh and shuffle your feet in embarrassment. “Anyway, what brings you all this way?” You joke, attempting to alleviate a bit of the blush on your cheeks.

“I just wanted to see if you’d wanna chill with us tonight? We had a lot of fun last time. Nothing special, but I wanted to see if you were up for it.” He smiles. “You guys are more than welcome to join too if you’d like!” He shouts over your shoulder at the boys sitting on the couch when he notices them sitting there.

“Nah we’re good Jimin and I have a test in the morning, and if I don’t force him to study with me he’ll fail.” Namjoon says from the couch

“I would not!” Jimin turns to him offended.

“Okay, I’ll study alone then.”

“No, please help me.” He deflates.

“See.” Joon smirks. “Thank you for the offer though!” He calls over to Tae.

“No problem, next time?”

“Next time.” He echoes.

“I’ll hold you to it.” He points a slender finger in your brother’s direction. “What about you, y/n? Are you down?” He directs his attention back to you.

“Right now?”

“If that works for you, Kook will be back from work shortly, it’ll just be Hobi and I for a little bit.” 

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” You smile. “Just let me go grab a couple things real quick and then I’m good to go!”

You scurry to your bedroom and take a look at yourself in the mirror, evaluating the damage the day has done to your makeup. Not bad. You give the apples of your cheeks a quick squeeze to bring back a little color, scramble to find your tinted lip balm, and fluff up your hair a little. There we go. Cute. Now to find something to bring with me so this little panicked face check isn’t a complete lie. Phone charger is good.

With your phone charger in hand and a revived complexion you head back out. 

“Thanks for waiting.” Tae gives you a nod and you smile while you give your boys a wave as you walk out the door.

You walk into the boys apartment and are immediately greeted by a wagging Bread who you kneel to give a plethora of loves, giggling when he hops up and tries to kiss your face.

“Hey y/n!”

“Hey Hobi!” You say as you follow Tae over to the couch with Bread right on your heels. 

“Glad you decided to join us. Kook will be here soon, he left work not long ago.” 

“I gave her the run down before we came over.” Tae smiles.

“How have classes and shit been?” You ask them

“Not ideal. I pulled a muscle in my leg.” Hobi rubs his calf. “With a big performance coming up on friday, but the show must go on, you know.” He shrugs.

“Oh shit dude, will you be okay?”

“He does this at least once a semester.” Tae says waving it off, used to his friend pushing through his injuries. 

“Yeah, it sucks for a bit but I’ll have some wiggle room to rest after this test.” He reassures.

“Okay good, just don’t die.” You chuckle.

“I’ll try not to.” He laughs.

“I’ve been doing a few surveys for my psych classes, would you mind if I get some data from you?” Tae looks to you, taking full advantage of the small lull in conversation.

“Tae no.” Hobi’s face falls and he rubs his temples.

“Do you find Chuck E. Cheese fuckable?” He asks, a genuine question mark in his eyes.

You blink. “What the hell kind of psych classes are you taking?”

“Just answer the question, y/n.”

You look at Hobi for some sort of answer, though you’re not even sure what your question is. “You’re gonna have to just answer him, he’s been on about it all day.” 

“Fucking of course not. Why on earth would I want to fuck a rat? And even if I did, why would I want to fuck a robotic rat roughly the size of an entire kindergarden class?” 

“First of all, he’s a mouse.” Tae corrects. “Second of all, THANK YOU!” He throws his arms up and flops against the back of the couch. “One kid in my class started this somehow and the room was surprising split. About forty percent of the people in that room said ‘Charles Entertainment Cheese’ was sexy! It got pretty heated, people were yelling that the opposing side that we ‘just couldn't handle his raw sexual power.’” He says exasperated with overdone air quotes. “So I’ve been asking everyone all day because I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I suppose I can see how that would plague your mind.” You laugh.

“Anyway!” Hobi interjects, clearly tired of the subject. “How are your things going, y/n?” 

You chuckle at his wide eyes. “They’ve been good. I’ve been spending more time in the studio with midterms coming up. But I need to find someone to work with me on a collab piece. I wanna have it in by midterms so I don’t have to worry about it during finals.” you sigh at the thought. 

“Awh, I would help with that but I already did that assignment and I’m not sure if they’d let me do it again with someone else?” Tae says with a small frown.

“I’d offer but the only thing I am versed in is drawing stick figures and arguably anatomically incorrect dicks.” Hobi chuckles.

“Thanks you guys.” You smile. “It’s alright though, I might just ask Jimin to get drunk and throw some paint at a canvas with me.”

“Hey! This reminds me, a couple days ago when you got coffee you promised you’d show me some of your work when we hung out next.” Tae looks at you sternly, arms tight across his chest. “The time has come Miss y/n.” 

“Ah, I suppose I did.” You say as you grab your phone to show him your album of a bunch of your work. “Okay, but I’m no Van Gogh. Go easy on me.” You warn before you hand over your device to him; you always get a little nervous when you show people your art for the first time.

“Hey hey! None of that nonsense! If the way you talk about art is any consolation, then I’m sure the passion alone is enough to make it beautiful.” Tae gives you a stern look followed by a reassuring smile.

“Do you want me to cry? Because this is how you make me cry.” You chuckle and relent your collection of work over to him for them to inspect. 

They open the first photo and you’re met with a mixture of a ‘holy shit’ from Hobi and a ‘wow’ from Tae, their reactions make you smile and your face heat up. 

“These are amazing y/n!” Hobi says as Tae swipes through.

“Thank you guys so much, really.” You say blushing and all but clutching your chest.

You watch their faces intently as they go through, Tae stopping every so often to zoom in and inspect a certain brushstroke that catches his eye. They get toward the end of the photoset when you hear a key in the front door. You’re the only one to turn your head to see Jungkook walk into the apartment. He sets his keys down on the table next to the entrance and his feet stutter a little when he sees you on the couch with his friends. 

“Hey Kook! Y/n was just showing us some of her art, dude she’s so talented!” Hobi calls over his shoulder.

“It’s really good, you should come take a look.” Tae adds, and you laugh nervously.

“That’s so awesome, I will.” He says looking at you with a smile. “I just need to talk to Tae, for a quick second.” He says turning his gaze toward him and tilting his head toward the hall. 

“Oh, is it about that thing?” Tae grits his teeth and sucks in sharp breath.

“Yes, exactly, the thing.” He confirms vaguely, looking relieved.

“Is everything okay?” You furrow your brows and look at each of them.

“He just has a rash, no worries.” Tae tells you in a hushed tone as he stands up. All you can do is blink in response. Jungkook lets out an exaggerated laugh as they disappear into the dark hallway and out of sight.

Once they are safely in the other room Jungkook flicks Tae in the forehead. 

“Ow!” Tae gasps.

“What the fuck was that for?!” Jungkook whisper yells at his idiot of a best friend.

“I was covering for you!”

“You could’ve said literally anything else! I don’t even have a rash!”

“She doesn’t know that!”

“Exactly, you fuck!” Jungkook whispers flicking him again. “Why is she here?! You didn’t warn me!”

“This is what I get for trying to help you?” Tae says rubbing his forehead with a pout.

“Hey! I was handling it just fine on my own!”

“Oh yeah, your plan to slowly raid the entire contents of her fridge was going so great!”

“I just thought!... I thought we would eventually talk or... something?” Jungkook says realizing maybe it wasn’t the best plan in the world. “That’s how my parents used to get to know our neighbors, they’d borrow each others sugar and shit.”

“It’d be easier to talk to her if you just hung out with her and I invited her over for you. You’re welcome! And your parents weren’t trying to fuck your neighbors, were they! Different goal calls for different strategy.” 

“Dude gross, I hope not.” Jungkook scrunches his nose. “And I don’t… just wanna fuck her.”

“Aww, does Googie have a bigger crush than we thought he did.” Tae teases pinching his cheek.

“Fuck you. But thanks I guess… just warn me next time, will you?” Jungkook relents.

“You got it.” Tae says patting him on the shoulder. “I’m only kinda sorry though!” He whispers as he slips out the door. Jungkook follows him to join all of you in the living room.

“Sorry about that.” Jungkook smiles at you as he and Tae take their places next to you on the couch. 

“No worries.” You assure.

“Kook you should take a look at her work, I think you’d like it.” Hobi says passing your phone over to him and your face heats up a little. “I was just telling y/n how you were really artsy in high school.” 

“Oh, it was nothing.” Jungkook waves him off as he starts to look through the photos and stopping a little longer on ones that catch his eye. 

“It wasn’t nothing.” Tae interjects. “Actually y/n, you mentioned needing a partner for that collab piece? Since I can’t assist, I’m sure Jungkook could help you out.” Tae gestures to the two of you.

“Oh no, I couldn’t ask him to do that for me.” You shake your head, looking at both their faces.

Jungkook tilts his head to the side for a second. “I wouldn’t mind at all, it would be fun. I might be a little rusty though.” He says with worried eyes.

“Really? you wouldn’t mind?” You light up. “That would help me out a ton. I’ve been stressing over that piece for weeks.”

“I’d be happy to.” He smiles bright. “I’m off on Saturday, we could work on it then. If that works for you, of course.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” You reach out to shake his hand, effectively sealing the deal. “Thank you so much.” you say and squeeze his hand a little.

“So Kook, I’m collecting data for my psych class-” Tae takes this opportunity to stain your moment of gratitude.

“I already told you, I’m not fuckin’ rats!” Jungkook cuts him off.

“He’s not a rat!”

“Which side are you on?!”

---

“Did I call it? Or did I call it?” Jin looks at you with his stupid smug ass face.

“Listen! It’s nothing!” You throw that damp rag you’re wiping down a table with in his direction.

“It’s not nothing! I can smell your pent up sexual frustration for him from here. You guys are gonna be alone for several hours making art together? What is he, Swayze?”

“Men and women can be platonic friends! You’re not thinking very progressively here, old man.”

“Of course, men and women can be platonic friends.” He says gesturing at the air between you. “But you and what’s his fuck, Junglebook, you said? You two, cannot.” 

“Your lack of faith in me is astounding.” 

“I wouldn’t call it a lack of faith in you, more of an educated assumption… And a lack of faith in both of you.” He smirks. Asshole.

“Fuck you.” You deadpan.

“You know you love me y/nie.” He blows you a kiss.

“You’re lucky I do.”

---

You: I can bring the supplies over whenever you’re ready, just lemme know! Thank you for letting me come over there, it would be hard for creative juices flowing with Joon hovering over us all night. Trying to figure out a deep psychological reason for me painting a flower yellow lmao

You: Oh! And wear clothes you don’t mind getting paint on, stains are inevitable :)

And send. 

Okay listen to me you dumb bitch. You can do this. We got this. For fuck sake why are you so nervous? Pull yourself together! Just enough to prove Jin and Jimin wrong. Do it just to rub it in their faces! Fuck. What are you 12? We can hang out alone with him. This is stupid. I’m stupid. It’s fine. Everything is fine! Shut up.

Tight Buns McCute-Dog: You can come over now, I’m just gonna change real quick, the door is unlocked! (: 

After receiving that reply, instead of him just cancelling, you were relieved he was still willing to help you. However it didn’t help the whole sweating from your ass cheeks with nerves, thing. So overall about the same. Great. 

Doing an abstract painting in these mental conditions will result in accidentally painting several phallic shapes. A Freudian Slip of the wrist if you will. 

After a couple deep breaths, effectively shoving half your feelings deep into the crevices of your mind, and changing his contact name, just for good measure. You grab all the supplies you’ll need and walk across the hall. 

You struggle to open your door while balancing your small box of acrylics, easel and canvas in your arms. Deciding to abandon your easel in the hall for a second while you knock on your neighbor’s door a couple times before you turn the knob. 

Bread is already eager and yipping at you for attention while you attempt to bring everything in and set it up to the side of the living room adjacent to the kitchen. 

---

Jungkook opens your texts and mouths a small ‘oh shit’ not wanting to keep you waiting, but quickly regretting his decision to work out right before he saw you. He wanted to look a little extra muscley but didn’t consider that he’d be a sweaty mess after doing so. 

He settles for telling you he’s changing and hopes you take a few minutes to gather your things so he can blow dry his hair a little. 

Your presence in his apartment is made known when he hears his dog barking and scuttling around. He gives his hair a quick tousel, throws on one of his many black hoodies and a little spritz of cologne. 

Jungkook emerges from his bedroom to find you fumbling with your easel. Cute. 

“Do you need help?” he asks through a giggle.

“Nope! Got everything a hundred percent under control over here.” Your sentence punctuated by your canvas falling to the floor. “Shit.”

“Allow me.” he says handing you the canvas.

“Thank you.” you breath and run a hand through your hair. 

“So what’s the plan? I hope you’re not expecting any Sistine Chapel level work from me.” he chuckles.

“A bunch of naked babies and a priest with the ears of an ass? I appreciate that you don’t bring that to the table.” you raise your brows. 

“Point taken.” 

“The plan is no plan. I mean I wanted to go for something abstract because it’s fun and doesn’t require a lot of brain power. Just put the brush where you think it should go.” you mime a couple brush strokes in the air.

“Sounds easy enough, paint from the heart.” he confirms, patting his chest for emphasis. 

“Oh, I did think one of us could be in charge of warm colors and tints, and the other could do cool colors and shades, and see where that takes us.” you look up expectantly, hoping he likes your almost-plan.

“Sounds interesting.” He looks at the empty canvas, eyes scanning for possibilities. “Which do you want?” 

“I’m partial to cool colors, myself.” 

“Then today, I’m partial to warm.” he smirks. “So are we just feeling what we feel in the moment or is there an emotion we’re trying to convey?” He turns to you, eyes expectant. 

You pause for a second, unsure if you should abandon the theme you were pondering for this piece before you knew Jungkook would be your partner in creation. “Is it too cliche if the theme was ‘love’?” You ask him hesitantly. Immediately regretting not just saying ‘nah man, just throw paint at that bitch.’ 

But much to your surprise. 

“Not at all, it’s a ‘cliche’ for a reason.” He states nonchalantly. “Love is powerful. Whether it’s the painful bit or the part that makes you feel untouchable.” 

A certain fondness hits his eyes that tells you he’s speaking from experience but you don’t pry.

“I’m glad you like the idea.” you smile, relief filling you after he doesn’t exhibit any signs of being uncomfortable. 

He claps his large palms together. “Shall we get started, Miss y/n?” His gaze once directed at the blank canvas, now fully on you. 

“Choose your weapon, Mr. Jungkook.” You feign a serious tone, giving him a small handful of various brushes. Keeping a few of your favorites for yourself. 

You push your box paints toward him indicating he can grab what he likes. Normally you’re a bit protective over your art supplies, seeing as not only are they stupid expensive, but you care for your tools a lot. You wouldn’t let your klutzy brother within a ten foot radius of your things when you were growing up and even now your blood boils if he’s anywhere near your expertly sorted colored pencils. But Jungkook is always gentle and seeing the way he meticulously places small globs of white, reds, and yellows onto his palette, you know you’ve made a good choice in trusting him. 

He steps slightly back letting you put the first ceremonial brush stroke of charcoal black diagonally across the upper most half of your canvas. He joins shortly after deciding to start with white in contrast with your black, laying down some bases for shapes and choosing to run his brush through to disturb the various lines you’ve made, dragging the two tones into a fading grey. 

As your mind wanders towards the way his slender tattooed fingers wrap delicately around the paint brush you quickly come to the conclusion that it’s time to play some background music. Absentmindedly sticking the handle of the brush between your teeth to grab your phone and open your music library.

“What kind of music do you like?” You turn to him, the thin strip of wood in your mouth giving you a slight lisp. 

“I’m not picky, play whatever you want.” he says warmly but his brow still furrowed with concentration while he finishes up his base layer. 

As his answer didn’t do much in the way of helping your quest, you opted for the safety of one of those throwback playlists spotify procures for their listeners, the 90’s one to be exact. Everybody loves some good nostalgia, and it may aid in the sincerity of your painting. Past emotions and whatnot. 

The first song that comes on after you hit shuffle is Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana and you hum in content. Jungkook on the other hand is pleasantly taken aback by your song choice. 

“Oh shit yeah! I love Nirvana!” He smiles brightly, taking his crinkling eyes off his work for the first time since you started. 

“Everybody loves Nirvana.” you tease him and roll your eyes at the possibility of him being one of those frat boys that ‘misses Kurt Cobain so much’ but can only name Smells Like Teen Spirit and maybe Aneurysm if you’re lucky. 

Jungkook, sensing your tone, smirks and runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “You think so, huh?” he bemuses, rolling up his sleeve to uncover this inked skin. Across his forearm is a quote reading ‘rather be dead than cool,’ a lyric from their song Stay Away. He watches you with a quirked brow.

“I stand corrected.” you hold your hands up in defense. Trying not to let the way his inked skin hugs his veins increases your heart rate become too apparent on your features. “You do indeed love Nirvana.” your emphasis on the word being placed differently this time.

“Never doubt me again y/n.” He eyes you suspiciously. “I’ll get more tattoos just to spite you.” He narrows his eyes to add validity to his semi-empty threat.

“I will never doubt you again, scouts honor.” you say playfully saluting him. 

“Now start the song over. Your lack of faith in me, made me miss half the song.” he points a finger at your phone.

“I can’t, I don’t have premium.” you let out a heavy sigh.

“What?! That’s dumb. You suffer through those god awful ads?” He screws his face up in disgust. 

“Eh, I don’t mind too much.” You shrug. “I don’t wanna spend the extra money every month.” 

“Okay, I guess that’s fair.” He squints at you as you pick up your brush again. “Why don’t you just use my account? I’ll text you my login.” He says fishing for his phone in his pocket. 

“That’s completely unnecessary.” You laugh, and wave for him to stop. “You’re already helping me out so much with this.” you gesture to the now less blank canvas in front of you.

“I really don’t mind. What’s the worst that could happen? We expand our music libraries? Oh no!” he pretends to gasp and you roll your eyes. “And besides, I’ll sleep better at night knowing I saved a soul from those creepy ass vitamin water commercials.” He chuckles.

“You really don’t have to.” Your eyes softening at his seemingly endless stream of kindness. 

“Already sent you the login, too late.” he says, sucking in a breath as if to say ‘what a shame.’

“Thank you, Jungkook.” you say as you gently grab his forearm and run your thumb over it.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles. “Back to work now!” he declares, sticking his paint brush, that at some point in your conversation tucked it’s way behind his ear, into his small mountain of yellow. 

You work like this together for a while. Humming along to your music, that is now playing off Jungkook’s phone after he insisted he didn’t wanna hear ‘Colonel Suck-My-Ass’ sing about his chicken deals one more time. The two of you working together seamlessly; the way you blend your colors and make textures complimenting each other nicely. Switching sides of the canvas every so often so it remains balanced. 

After about an hour of being immersed in your work Jungkook turns to you. “Noodle break?” He asks you frowning at his empty tummy.

Your brush stutters on the canvas at his words, your stomach not realizing it’s been hours since you’ve eaten until he mentions food. “That sounds wonderful, actually.” 

“One or two packets?” he asks making his way into the kitchen.

“Just one is good.” you smile, setting your brush into your cup of water. You follow him into the kitchen. “Where do you store your liquid?” you ask standing between the pantry and the fridge, looking lost.

“Fridge.” he answers giving his approval to let you grab the two of you some drinks.

“I see you guys finally went grocery shopping.” you chuckle at the butter and cartons of eggs in his fridge.

“What?- oh right, yeah. Finally dragged Hobi out earlier today.” His smile not quite meeting his eyes while he opens up three packets of ramen, and waits for the water to boil. 

“Can I steal a soda?” 

“Yeah, just not the sprite. Hobi can and will throw a fit.” his tone far more serious than the situation calls for.

“Well damn, okay.” you say and grab a coke for both of you. 

“Thank you.” He smiles and your fingertips brush perhaps a little too long when you hand him his drink. 

He pulls the tab, puts the cold metal to his lips and you watch the way his throat bobs up and down with every swig. When you feel yourself staring your ears heat up, and turn your gaze to the water starting to roll in the pot. 

As Jungkook is finishing up cooking the ramen, the song changes to Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, you let out a small gasp and start to sing along. He smiles at your apparent love for the song and starts to harmonize with you to encourage you to keep going. Which, much to his dismay, did the exact opposite.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you scold. “I didn’t know you had such a beautiful voice!” 

“It’s alright, I guess.” He breathes out and rubs the back of his neck a little embarrassed. “You’re not too bad yourself.” He looks at you with those big doe eyes. And you swear you’ll only look at them for a couple more seconds, as not to fall under their spell. A half hearted oath at best. 

But you start to sing again, you tell yourself it’s to make the most of the song while it’s on but really, you just want to hear honeyed voice hit your ears again. And it does, eyes closed tightly and mouth wide to control his sound. You can’t hold a tune to save your life but the way he carries your sounds with his, it doesn’t matter. Your song is beautiful.

After your musical interruption, you take your bowls to the table and slurp away at your noodles. All the while Bread is at your heels begging ever so sweetly, which Jungkook scolds but ultimately ends up throwing him a noodle when his bowl is just about gone. 

You take your bowl to the sink but when you start rinsing Jungkook comes over to push you out of the way so he can take care of it himself. You stand your ground for a minute but lose the silent argument due to his advantage of stature. You mutter a small ‘fuck you’ before you return to the canvas, and he smiles contently to himself.

Jungkook joins you back at your station, stepping back for a moment to assess where the two of you left off and what he’d like to add. He lets his eyes run over the varying sized lines and the way they come together but also fight one another in some spots. Some colors as bright as the sun and others look like the depths of the ocean. All coming together in a way that only really makes sense to the two of you. 

You finished what was left of your drink and picked up your brush, dipping straight into your black paint for the second time since you started like you were on a mission. You drew a fluid line near the center curving over a few existing splotches, near the end of your brush stroke it became jagged and split off into several directions. A pessimist would call it a shatter, an optimist would call it several opportune paths, and a realist would probably just call it a painting. But Jungkook did none of those things.

“Y/n, have you ever been in love?” He asked as if he had only asked what time it was. He started swirling some colors together while he waited for an answer.

You blinked, trying not to show how much that question shocked you. “I suppose…” you breathed, actually struggling to come up with a real answer. “I mean, last time I was in a serious relationship was in highschool.” You trailed off. “I don’t know if I can say I’ve been in love but I’ve loved someone before… I feel like being in love sticks with you in a different way. More of a life experience than a life lesson.” You scrunched up your face a little, hoping he’d be satisfied with your answer even though you yourself weren’t.

He nodded, taking in your words. “I think being in love can be just as much a life lesson as ‘lesser relationships,’ if not more so.” He adds putting air quotes as not to come across the wrong way. “But hopefully you end up with more positive lessons than not.”  

“Yeah, you’re right. Like learning how you love and need to be loved. What you deserve and what you won’t put up with. Learn to let yourself be loved-” You stop your word vomit after that last comment, feeling a bit vulnerable. “Those kinds of things?” you let out a little laugh.

“Exactly.”

“Is it fair to assume that you have?” You question, hesitating slightly.

“That I have what?” 

“Been in love, dummy.” You laugh, strategically placing a light green around the canvas.

He pauses slightly. “Yeah, I have.” The same fondness that found his eyes earlier that day sets in again. Not in a painful or bitter way, you noted. But in the way you’d regard your favorite childhood memory.

“I didn’t rub salt in a wound, did I?” you tensed slightly incase you read him wrong.

“No no, you’re fine!” He reassures. “It was a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong, it hurt like a bitch in the moment, but as they say, time heals all wounds.” he shrugs.

“Can I ask what happened?” You prompted, feeling a little braver this time.

“Well you know, same old story with high school sweethearts.” He paused to fix a spot he didn’t like. “She was a year older than me. She left for university. We tried long distance and after a few months we decided it was too hard. Nothing particularly spectacular.” He tells the story, for what you can tell is at least the thousandth time. “What about you and Mr. Not-Quite-In-Love?”

“Nothing, super special either. Unfortunately, the lessons I learned from him were less than positive. After the initial honeymoon phase, he didn’t treat me the best. Looking back I learned to know the level of respect I deserve, but in the moment his lack of just made me desperate to ‘earn’ it. It was a vicious cycle for about a year but things ended and I grew up. And like you said, ‘time heals all wounds.’” Jungkook looked at you with furrowed brows, not sure if he wants to hug you or the seventeen year old girl you used to be who would see herself as anything less than what she was. But he settled for the former.

He wrapped his arms around you, taking you by surprise. But you accept his embrace and smile against his shoulder. “I’m okay now Jungkook.” You giggle. “It was a long time ago and I learned from it.”

He pulls away. “I know, I’m just sorry it took that dickbag for you to know your worth.” he gives you a sheepish smile, and a fire in his eyes dulls when he looks at you.  

“Thank you, you’re very sweet.” you pat his arm before you both turn back to your respective parts of the canvas. 

“Hey, just cause I’m not a complete asshole, doesn’t mean I’m sweet.”

“I’m holding firm at you’re sweet, and you can’t change my mind.” You both laugh and return your full attention back to your work.

Your rhythm returns to where it was before you ate. Both of you humming along to whatever song is playing at the moment, using your paint brushes as microphones if a particularly good song came on. Exchanging a few words here and there. Each admiring the small things the other chooses to add to the work of art. You noticed Jungkook has a habit of biting his lips when he’s concentrating. Cute. 

Now here you finally are after another hour of blending, layering, and tweaking. Both of you put down your brushes down and stepped back slightly to admire what you’ve created. Letting out a sigh at your hard work, taking in the finalized piece. The way the colors run together or bump into one another. The juxtaposition of fluid lines being interrupted by jagged edges. The way the soberness of the colors you put down calm and soothe the firey and vibrant ones he laid down for you.

Ordinarily, when you finish a painting, you never quite feel done. There’s always one more thing you could fix, one more stroke you could add. But not this time. It’s finished. Breathtaking in a simple way. You’ve never felt such a sense of completeness when you set your brush down, and you can’t help but feel you have Jungkook to thank for it. The way his colors and brush work complemented yours was… for lack of a better term, a work of art. 

---

Jungkook puts down his brush, watching you lay down your final touches. Truth be told he’d been watching you out of the corner of his eye the entire time. Checking in on you every so often when you’d put down your tool and furrow your brows in concentration. Smiling when you’d absentmindedly mumble to yourself about what you’re doing. He was in awe of how much of yourself you put down on the canvas, not entirely sure what wordless stories you were telling meant. Though that didn’t stop him from taking the puzzle pieces you laid down and arranging them into a y/n shaped jigsaw in his mind. Perhaps your fondness of calming colors was to tame the wild fire he could see within you. 

And just as quickly as you’d started, you were done, setting your brush down and smiling at what you saw in front of you. 

“Thank you so much, Jungkook.” You breathe still taking in the painting. “It’s beautiful.” 

“Yeah, it is.” He says just above a whisper, never taking his eyes off your beaming profile. 

“Hm?” You turn to him. He looks into your eyes, once filled with fire are now a calm ocean. His gaze shifts to your lips after they form a confused pout at his silence, his body leading his brain when he leans toward you.

It’s now or never.

He leans in further looking into your eyes for any sign of apprehension before he cups your jaw in his paint stained hand. Finally taking the leap all at once when you lean into his touch. 

His lips are even softer than you imagined when they meld against yours. He pulls away slightly to look at you a question mark across his features. You put your hands flush against his hard chest and answer his question by reconnecting your lips with his with fervor and you feel him smile against you. He deepens the kiss, putting his free hand on your hip to pull you closer to his warm body. 

He swipes his tongue along your bottom lip, testing the waters further. You mirror his action, noting that his lips taste faintly of strawberries. You slide your hands into his soft hair and curl your fingers into fists against his scalp making him groan into your mouth. 

His hand that held its feather like touch against your face leaves it’s place to join his other around your waist. His hands squeezing harshly at your hips, his fingers digging into the strip of skin your shirt rode up to expose, making you shiver against him despite your rising temperature. 

He pulls away to place sloppy kisses along your jaw, nudging your jaw with his nose gently to gain access to your neck. You suck in a breath when you pull him closer causing his teeth to graze your pulse point as his swollen lips leave rosey marks in their wake. He sucks harshly at the soft spot below your ear causing your nerves to flare and a moan to escape your lips. He groans in satisfaction at the way his actions affect you, running his hot tongue over your skin to soothe the marks he made. 

His hands move higher on your abdomen slipping just under the hem of your shirt, making you tense slightly under his calloused palms, he feels your shift and rubs his thumbs below your ribcage to relax your tensed muscles. His gentle fingers vastly opposing his flushed cheeks when he brings his face up to yours again, his hair already messy and his eyes dazed as he looks at your lips like they’re the first glass of water he’s seen in days. He crashes his lips back into yours hungrily causing you to squeak at his desperation. You disconnect your lips leaving almost no distance between you.

“Bedroom?” you ask lowley against his lips, your vocal chords betraying you making the word come out far more shaky and less sexy than you wanted. His shoulders flex under your hands at his request.

Jungkook slides his hands down your ass to squeeze the flesh in his hands when his finger tips graze the back of your thighs. 

“Up.” he says firmly, offering you free transport to his bed. You hop up, his strong arms hold you and you wrap your legs tightly around his narrow waist. He starts the small walk to his bedroom, and you try to ignore the way his stomach pressed against your clothed clit is providing the smallest amount of friction with each of his steps, instead deciding to direct your attention to him instead. You give a gentle open mouthed kiss to the small mole on the side of his neck, you make a small path sucking where his jaw meets his neck, and he hums deeply making his chest rumble against yours in response.

When you reach his room, the smell of his fabric softener fills your lungs as he presses your back against his now closed door. His hands trail from your ass, trusting you to hold yourself up around him, up your sides, he slides your arms from around his neck and to the wall until your hands are effectively pinned above your head. The air between you is heavy for a moment as his dark eyes take in how you look like this, your eyes starry as your chest rises and falls in anticipation of his next move. 

He kisses you again, slower this time. You whimper into his mouth when his hips grind his hard dick into your clit. His thighs flexing under yours as he grinds up again harder, swallowing as many of your beautiful sounds as you’ll give him. 

He stops his hips and tucks his arms under you again to set you on his bed. 

You reach your shirt to pull it over your head but he stops you.

“Let me.” He says half a statement, half a question. 

You smile and say nothing but grant him permission by raising your arms above your head. He hooks his fingers into the hem of your shirt grazing your skin making goosebumps blossom on your flesh as he pulls it up and over your head. He reaches for the clasp of your bra slowly and gently like you might break, as if he wasn’t just shoving you against his door with his cock. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out harshly when your hardened nipples are finally released to the cool air of his room.

He quickly strips off his hoodie revealing that he’s been painting without a shirt underneath the whole night. Your breath hitches as all the times you’d touched his arm or chest the hours prior, not knowing there was only a thin barrier between your fingers and his skin. You run your eyes over his bare chest and hard stomach, you knew he worked out but hot damn, those baggy clothes he wears does no justice to what’s under them. However he doesn’t give you much time to marvel before he reconnects his lips with yours leaning into you until your back is on his duvet, you spread your legs to make room for him to settle in between. 

His hot skin drags softly against your nipples as he descends down your frame to pepper kisses along the valley of your breasts. He licks his fingers to roll one of your nipples between his wet digits while he attaches his mouth the other, swirling his tongue in intoxicating circles. You sigh at the small relief his mouth is bringing you and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging roughly when his teeth bite down onto your sensitive bud. You feel the bed bow slightly below you as his hips stutter at your action. He quickly tends to the small sting with his tongue. Giving a gentle kiss to your nipple as he pulls away. 

He sits up and hooks his fingers into your pants, but stops before tugging them down. “Is this okay?” He asks sincerely. 

“Very.” You say, your heart clenching at his concern and help him slide your pants to your ankles, eager to have his soft skin on yours again. 

He brings his lips to your neck again and you wrap your legs around his waist rocking your hips up to rub your neglected clit against his rigid cock that he has yet to spring free. The wet spot on your panties rubbing off onto his sweats. You moan into his ear at the small relief you’re able to bring yourself, arching your back further in attempt to get more friction and he chuckles against your skin.

“Patience, sweetheart.” He smirks down at you and your feeble attempt to feel his cock. 

“Don’t wanna be patient. Want you to fuck me.” You say trying your best not to whine, as you reach for the waistband of his pants. 

He runs his tongue along his lip and leans down until his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Oh, don’t worry beautiful, I will.” He moves your hands and rolls his hips into yours once to punctuate his sentence. “But I wanna taste you first.” He says and quickly sits back on his knees to slip your underwear down your legs, tossing them behind him not worrying about where they land. 

He settles his shoulders under the back of your thighs and makes a path of open mouth kisses from your knee to your inner thigh, stopping right before your sex and inhaling deeply as he sucks a bruise into your skin, your face heats up and your hips shake in excitement. 

“You smell fucking delicious, sweetheart.” he looks up at you with soft doe eyes that completely contradict his filthy words. He lingers just a whisper away from where you want him and you roll your hips to meet his lips. He smirks again at your frustration moving his lips to your other knee to make a wet path up your other leg with his mouth, seeing how long he can push you. Stopping midthigh to speak again into your skin. 

“I wanna take my time with you sweets. Greedy little girls don’t get to cum on my tongue.” His eyes darken when they look up at you, his words sending electricity through your nerves and arousal dripping onto his sheets.

You opt for silently nodding as the only thing you could muster at the moment is a whine that you want to keep at bay. 

“Are you gonna take what I give you, sweetheart?” He says rubbing circles into your hip.

“Yes, Sir.” You breathe trying your best not to roll your hips into his touch and get scolded again. 

“Good girl.” He smiles at your compliance and finally gives you what you want.

He licks a long flat stripe up your slit, collecting your arousal on his tongue and swirling it around your throbbing clit. Your thighs tighten around his head and he groans against you. 

“Taste even sweeter than I imagined.” He all but moans into your folds. He swears he could get off just like this, with his tongue buried in your cunt and his hips rocking his cock into his mattress. 

You reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. He obliges you and wraps his lips around your clit sucking harshly, crude slurping noises filling the room but both of you are too lost in the sensation to care. Your hips start rocking against his mouth again, this time your body fully taking a mind of its own, your climax being the only thing you can think about. 

“That’s my good girl, use my tongue to get off.” You moan louder at his words and speed up your movements, balling his hair into fists. As he looks up at you with lidded eyes, he gets lost, lost in your taste, lost in the way your sweaty chest heaves with your heavy breaths, lost in the way his name falls from your lips with your eyes screwed shut.

“I’m s-so fucking close!” your voice comes out in a strained moan cracking at the end of your sentence. 

“Cum for me beautiful, wanna taste your cum.” He says wrapping his lips around your clit again to pull your orgasm from you. He may have called you greedy, but he couldn’t get enough of the way your thighs shook around him. 

“Holy shit! Jungkook!” your orgasm hits you like a wave starting in your stomach and sending fire through your veins. Your hips stutter and Jungkook licks you languidly through your high. All the while your mouth mutters his name in an incoherent mantra. 

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and climbs over you leaning on his forearms, and captures your lips in his. You taste yourself on them and smile against his mouth.

“You look so beautiful when you cum.” He says placing soft kisses along your jaw. And you’re glad he can’t see the way your cheeks flare at his comment. “Think you can still take my cock?” he says squeezing himself at the base through his pants. 

“God yes.” You say perhaps a little too enthusiastically and he chuckles at you. 

“You really are a greedy one, aren’t you sweetheart?” He says teasingly. “Let me get you ready first.” He says rubbing his thumb in small circles on your clit, your sensitivity makes you jump a little.

He looks down to watch the way your velvet walls swallow his fingers, but he stops his movement, realizing his hands are still covered in paint. 

“Shit.” He mutters almost silently. “I’ll be right back.” He says with a smile pecking your lips before he slips out his door. Closing it behind him just in case, as not to let Hobi unknowingly come home early only to find you spread eagle on his roommates bed. 

What the hell is he doing? Your eyebrows furrow, worried he’s gonna get some sort of convoluted sex toy. Which while you wouldn’t normally object, that’s a tad presumptuous on his part. 

Your mental ramble cut short and worries put to rest when he reenters the room with clean hands. He strips his sweats from his hips and climbs back over you.

“Sorry, I didn’t want you to get some sort of paint-chemical related rash on your… lady bits.” He says hesitantly breathing out a laugh against your cheek.

“While that’s incredibly considerate of you. That sentence didn’t do much for my ‘lady bits’.” you know what his venom filled tongue is capable of, so his childish use of words makes you giggle. 

He rolls his eyes at you and cups your face, pulling you in for another deep kiss. His hand snakes down between your legs and when his thumb connects with your clit you squeak and break the kiss.

“Your hands are freezing.” you say with more of a pout than you’re willing to admit. You presume he didn’t wanna make you wait too long so he washed his hands in cold water. 

“Why don’t you warm them up for me?” he quirks a brow and smirks. Bringing his hand up to your mouth and sticking his middle and ring finger between your lips. You happily wrap your lips around his digits; licking, sucking, and humming in content around them.

Jungkook’s cock twitches in his boxers as he watches your cheeks hollow slightly around his slender fingers, resisting from pushing them deeper in your mouth and seeing how pretty you look when you gag for him. 

He removes his hand from your mouth, marveling at the string of saliva that follows it. He reaches down to tease your entrance letting your spit and arousal get you ready for his stretch. He slips his fingers into your dripping core and has to hold back from moaning at how well you hug him. 

“Your pussy is so tight, sweetheart.” He breathes. “Your sweet cunt is gonna squeeze me real well won’t it?” He says catching your bottom lip between his teeth. You can’t help but clench around his fingers. “That’s my good girl.” He says, his eyes darkening and he curls into your sweet spot, you moan at how quickly he seems to be learning your body. Like he could figure out exactly what makes you tick if you stayed in his bed for just a while longer.

He removes his fingers making you whimper. He slips his boxers down a little and uses your arousal and his precum to wet his dick. Your mouth waters and you clench around nothing at how beautiful he looks slowly pumping himself with furrowed brows, until now he’s done a good job of not showing how badly his body demands to be touched just as much as yours does. 

He lines himself with your entrance and teases your clit with the tip of his cock, fighting the urge to slam himself into you to the hilt. 

“Do you want me to grab a condom?” he says mere millimeters away from slipping into you. 

“I’m on the pill.” you reassure and gasp at how close he is to giving you everything you wanted since he crashed his lips into yours at the easel. Or possibly before that.

That’s all he needed to hear before he pushed his cock past your entrance and into your wet pussy, the stretch he’s giving you making you thank him silently for insisting on warming you up first. 

“Fuck.” You both moan at how well you squeeze around him. He goes slow, inching in to give you time to adjust. You wrap your legs around his waist to encourage him deeper. He continues his slow pace breathing hot and thick against your neck. 

He sits up to watch how he disappears inside you. “Look how well you take my cock, sweetheart.” He says picking up some speed in his thrusts. You moan at how well he hits every spot in you that’s been left untouched tonight, his dirty words only further building the pressure in your pelvis. 

His thrusts become harder and you reach up you brace yourself on his biceps, his muscles flexing while he supports his weight above you. He angles his hips up slightly hitting your sweet spot perfectly, and you nearly yelp at the sensation, digging your nails into his arms making him hiss.

“Right there? Is that how your little pussy likes it?” He feigns a subtle innocence in his voice. Like he can’t see with his own eyes how well he’s fucking you.

“Yes, fuck! Please don’t stop.” you beg, mostly to get him to do just that, but also because of the sweaty fog his delicious cock has worked into your mind isn’t exactly allowing you to form the most intelligent of sentences.

He sits back on his knees and pushes one of your legs to your chest, his dick hitting deeper than you thought possible making your eyes roll back and your jaw slack. Your moans become uncontrollable and the words you’re attempting to say just come out in broken sounds.

“Such a good slut for me, look at you falling apart on my cock.” his voice almost a growl. “You gonna cum soon, sweetheart?” He says with a voice like silk to mask how close he is himself.

You can’t do more than nod fractically at his words in fear your voice will betray you. He rubs your clit with his thumb to earn your second climax from you.

And you do, your walls tighten around his cock but his pace doesn’t falter. Your legs shake and your eyes roll back. You cover your mouth to muffle a scream. Your orgasm ripping through you so hard you feel like you might burst. 

Jungkook hisses at how hard you’re squeezing him and fucks you through your high. He reaches to his headboard to fuck into you harder, being selfish for the first time tonight, using you to chase his own high.

“Where do you want it?” He says in a stifled whine.

“Cum inside Jungkook. I want you to fill me up.” You say pressing your nails into his chest. The overstimulation you feel in your core is worth every thrust when he finally lets go and fills you with his cum. His cock twitching as he slowly rides out his climax. 

He collapses on top of you, breathing heavily into your neck. Then rolls over to the other side of the bed, to allow both of you some cool air on your skin. 

“I hope I didn’t go too hard at the end there, are you okay?” He looks over at you with worried eyes.

“No. No it’s okay, I liked it.” you smile, your lungs and heart rate working hard to steady themselves.

After he’s caught his breath a little he reaches into his bedside table to get a small rag to wipe up some of his cum leaking out of you, and you suddenly feel very vulnerable at his thoughtful gesture. 

The post sex clarity hitting your mind, not quite in the way you hoped. As you lay there the height of what you two just did sending your mind go into overdrive.

Oh fuck. You run through the events of the night starting to panic a little. He’s my friend, how did this even happen? I wasn’t gonna do this. I wasn’t gonna let this get more complicated than my attraction to him already was. Shit, I’m an idiot. I mean he did kiss me, but… I can’t let this happen again. I don’t want this to end badly and have to move just because I think with my idiot vagina. It makes things too complicated. Okay, I have to end whatever that was now before things get even more complicated. He won’t mind right? He’s a college dude, he’s probably fine with just hittin’ it and quittin’ it. Yeah, everything is good. Friends can fuck once and then be good, it happens all the time. 

You sit up from his bed and run your hands through your hair a couple times in an attempt to tame it and start to pick up your clothes. 

“Are you okay?” He says, watching you as you attempt to find your underwear.

“Yeah, I’m good, just have an early class in the morning and I should probably get going.” you force a smile. 

“Oh, uh okay.” He says not quite convinced. Though you weren’t lying about that, you really did have a class in about seven hours.

“Hey um,” you hesitate, sliding your pants on just choosing to abandon your underwear. “This was just a one time thing, right?” you ask him, hating the way you said that. 

He senses your tone and feels a little twinge in his chest, but he ignores it, putting on a smile instead. “Yeah, definitely. Why do you ask?” 

“Okay, good.” Another twinge. “I just don’t want things to be too complicated, with us being neighbors and all…” You trail off, trying not to cringe at yourself. 

“Yeah, that makes sense.” He pauses, realizing for the first time that this could have negative consequences. “No worries, it’s forgotten. Just friends.” He reassures pulling his pants on.

“Just friends.” You smile and extend your hand to him. You shake on it. 

You pull your shirt over your head. 

“See you later, neighbor.” You say attempting to bring back the way things were just an hour ago. And you slip out his door.

He doesn’t walk you home like he normally does, and honestly you’re thankful. You just want to be back in your apartment where you can pretend that didn’t just happen. Even if that was one of the best fucks you've ever had, you're certainly not going to think about it. What is there to think about? Nothing happened.

You slip out his door, and into yours, met with Jimin munching in your kitchen, presumably after a party and your feet halt in their tracks. 

“Damn babe, you look positively wrecked.” He says with a knowing smirk.

“Jimin, I am so not in the mood for whatever you’re about to say.” you say exasperated.

“Oh, so I should save the ‘I told you so’? Would you rather get it in the morning?” He asks innocently, though he’s anything but.

“Preferably never.” You quip and slip into your bedroom.

Yeah, never is good, we’re just gonna pretend none of that happened.

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

Taglist: @taezeus​ @spoopysoph​ @gucci-prince-tae​ @jiminiesthiccthighs​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​ @hermiones-enchantment​ @irissilujm​ @flo-music​ @scalbra​ @sugarrimajins​ @embrace-themagic​ @megsmiiiii​ @nerdycookiemonster-1222​ @livorna​ 

[shiftperception]

Misc Gen 5 Headcanons cuz I’m HOPELESS

-ADHD Bianca. I know it’s kinda surface level stereotypical being based on how she’s described as “flighty” and accused of having no sense of time, but as an ADHD (well ADD but apparently that name isn’t used anymore?) person myself I’d like to claim Bianca for the neurodivergent squad. Besides I don’t see ADHD hcs about female characters that often. ADHD girls exist and could use some more recognition!

-Additionally, Bianca seems like a fidget toy collector. You know those people who have like a million keychains, phone charms, desk toys/figures often including colorful fidget toys sprinkled in? I don’t know what it is about Bianca but she seems like that kind of person. The kind who would have a counselor’s office level fidget toy stash. It just vibes with her aesthetic to me.

-Colress is absolutely the type of person who’d be super into competitive. He’s all about bringing out the potential of pokemon and will use any means necessary to get the best results. Colress would spend hours breeding pokemon and release boxes of breedjects that don’t have the right IVs. Be particular about EV training, like investing a certain amount into a certain stat to be sure his fast attacker will always outspeed xyz with a choice scarf. Colress has the showdown damage calculator open in another tab. He has a rotom wash on his team. He could’ve picked any rotom form and he picked wash because of course he did. *whispers* VGC player... Or whatever the in universe equivalent would be. VGC player Colress. I will die on this hill.

-His stupid team he had as a battle tree partner is not only infuriatingly lackluster in the moveset department, but OUT OF CHARACTER. I know it would be too OP for gamefreak but you can’t tell me Colress with a porygon z and the normal z crystal would be out here running breakneck blitz when z-conversion is right there. This man would setup sweep with no remorse and you know it. Explosion metagross?? Honey no. I haven’t played competitive in ages and was never a top tier player by any means, but I can tell you from my hours wasting time on showdown in class while pretending to work I’ve never seen that. Nobody wastes as good of an attacker as metagross as a suicide lead. At least not that I know of. A strategy that reckless doesn’t fit a cool calculating scientist like Colress anyway. And in DOUBLES?? With a partner. That he hasn’t talked with to make sure they’re running protect/wide guard/a ghost type or SOMETHING that prevents their own pokemon from dying to explosion??? No.

-wait I’m nOT DONE. A L S O while Colress is morally ambiguous and not the most caring or compassionate, he is courteous. Maybe it’s hard to say if he’s good (or evil), but he is for the most part nice. I think he’d be a merciless opponent but very supportive and considerate battle partner. He’d want to talk strats and team build with you, and definitely wouldn’t run a move that hurts your pokemon without consulting you. Because it’s a dumb play and a dick move. Ok rant over.

-Ever walked into a store and been like I think (insert character) would shop here? There’s this Japanese store in my city called Muji and I feel like N would shop there. Something about the wooden everything and the plants and the soothing minimal designs makes me feel like I’d see him buying clothes there, staring thoughtfully at the oil diffusers, writing philosophical quotes or trying to doodle his pokemon in the pen/notebook section.

-N and his reformed team plasma followers start a real anti pokemon cruelty organization post BW2 that run nature reserves where they care for rescued pokemon in various regions. N becomes a well known and highly regarded pokemon rights/environmental activist in Unova.

[un0vian]

Hear me out, SSS Miraculous Ladybug AU?

oh man you guys have no idea how much I’ve thought about an au like this before

The anon is new, but this has been in the inbox for a while, I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long! Also this kind of takes a general understanding of the show to make any sense!

This is just a HUGE bundle of ideas lmao I’m sorry it’s so disorganized. I’ll put some of the doodles up here and put in a read more for all of my bullet points (I wrote almost 2K words for this hhhh)

No Pokémon in this AU, and I’m not clever enough to shape the Miraculous after any of them lol.

I think Lance being the Guardian of the Miraculous fits the most.

Lyra becomes the Ladybug Miraculous holder the same way Marinette does, by showing and acting upon her compassion towards someone in need (not the same exact way, considering Lance isn’t nearly as old as Master Fu; she probably saves an old man and Lance notices).

In this AU’s origins I think it would make sense that Giovanni and Silver just moved to Goldenrod from Kanto. Giovanni (obviously) was a part of the crime-world, but found out about the Miraculous and their power, got ahold of the Cat and Butterfly Miraculous, learned of the Ladybug Miraculous’ general location, then decided moving was a good idea. They move into a place like the Agreste mansion (Silver thinks the move is just random btw).

I would say Giovanni holds Silver to high standards like Gabriel does for Adrien. Giovanni has Silver play the Violin and Cello (READ FVAWA!!!), and was probably homeschooled in Kanto. I’ll also say he probably has basic self defense training.

To blend in, Silver becomes enrolled at the same school that Lyra, Kris, and Ethan attend.

Lyra, Kris, and Ethan always try to yoink the back two tables, and every new seating chart the three play Rock Paper Scissors, loser sits alone. Lyra loses and ends up at the table next to the other two with an empty seat.

Their teacher, Professor Elm (I mean, who else would it be?? There’s Oak ofc but eh), introduces Silver to the class and has him sit with Lyra. 

It’s obvious to Lyra that Silver is more socially reserved, but she introduces herself anyway.

Lyra moved from New Bark Town to Goldenrod City early in her childhood (Her and Ethan were childhood friends, Ethan moved to Goldenrod a little before Silver. Kris grew up in Goldenrod). I think it would be cool to keep the Bakery; Lyra’s mom would work there with Lyra helping out a lot.

I’m thinking Lyra could possibly be a model like Adrien, but wayyy on the DL in comparison. She has the right temperament for being in the spotlight (aka not being a flustered mess all the time), hence why she’s so well suited for the Miraculous.

Her passion is writing! Writing poems, speeches, music, all of it. And she enjoys public speaking. She’ll pull out a notebook (or just type on her phone like a sane person) whenever she gets a new idea.

Lyra sings and plays the synth. She plays songs she writes sometimes!

Tikki helps Lyra a lot with her worries about being a Superhero, and is great at giving suggestions and ideas of what Lyra should write if she has a block. Basically usual Tikki being great.

When the first Akuma appeared, Lyra found her Miraculous the same way Marinette did. The difference is when Tikki appeared she was less fearful, and learned about de-evilizing Akumas from the start.

When Ladybug showsed up to stop the Akuma there was no other support. She was able to defeat the Akuma, but damn, what a workout.

Hear me out here, what if there wasn’t an umbrella scene? I’d rather have their feelings for each other grow over time as Silver begins to doubt his father’s reasons for needing the Ladybug Miraculous and reflects on his actions. Besides, Lyra having feelings for Silver in the beginning would be kinda cringe 😬 (@Marinette in the PV smh)

The first Akuma was Giovanni’s way of testing the waters, and confirms that the Ladybug Miraculous is in Goldenrod. The night afterwards he approaches Silver with the Cat Miraculous. Giovanni explains that he needs the Ladybug Miraculous along with the Cat Miraculous to bring Silver’s mother back (which is total bullshit, all he wants is power), and offers him the Miraculous.

And about Silver’s mother; I know there’s a theory about Ariana being his mom, but in this AU (and in general, really) I HC his mother being kindhearted and not part of the mob ahah. (Also same sitch as Adrien’s mom in this AU)

Silver is apprehensive towards the “offer”, but can he really say no? And he does want to see his mom again. So he accepts. Giovanni barely hides the vile smirk on his face and throws in a “I’m proud of you, son” for good measure :/

From then on, Cat Noir shows up to battle Ladybug after an Akuma is de-evilized.

Plagg is somewhere between neutral and good. He’ll (not-so) subtly suggest that Silver should join Ladybug, and point out how much of a dick Giovanni is… but he won’t actively try to stop him because he can’t really do anything about it anyways. Plagg supposes he’ll just have to be patient. And he teases Silver about anything and everything, and his reactions are priceless.

Already having no partner to rely on during Akuma battles, Ladybug is most definitely tired out and has far too many close calls in her battles with Cat Noir. Lyra vents about this to Tikki, and worries about being unable to contact the guardian and request more help.

Lance realizes his mistake after a particularly nasty fight when a stroke of luck saves Ladybug from de-transforming. He introduces himself right after that fight, and apologizes for his oversight.

At this moment I don’t know if it would make more sense to introduce only one more Miraculous holder or two, and if they should be permanent or temporary. I’ll put down my bare-bones ideas for the Miraculous holders anyways.

Ethan - Fox Miraculous, Kris - Turtle Miraculous. I see Kris suiting the Turtle Miraculous because she waits for the right moment instead of jumping right in. I see her as being a great protector compared to Ethan.

Sheesh this is already super long any I haven’t really gotten to the SSS portion 

Slow burn like the show, but in this case neither has a crush for a whiiiile. That part is quite different from the show, but the context is not the same.

Eventually there’s a semblance of a friendship between Lyra and Silver. They got close through sitting at the same table in class and working on different projects together. They also find they both share a love of music.

Anyways, Lyra gets really excited about their friendship and prattles on about it to Tikki.

“Wow, it almost sounds like you like him!”

“Whaaaaat? No!!! He’s just a friend, Tikki!” (Nice Adrien impression, Lyra 😃)

Along the way Silver begins questioning Giovanni’s reasons more and more, but it’s difficult for him to decide whether to keep fighting Ladybug or not because of all the things that could happen. 

Eventually Plagg sits him down and is like:

“You don’t want to fight Ladybug.”

“Right.”

“You have a friend (Lyra) who has made it clear to you that you are welcome in their home, so you would have somewhere to stay if Gio-bitch kicks you out.”

“Right.”

“Ladybug may not trust you at first, but if you explain yourself she may begin to understand, and the act of switching sides paves the path to redemption.”

“Right.”

“So SWITCH SIDES.”

“OH. OKAY.”

Then there’s the ol’ switcheroo. During the worst Akuma yet (with Kris and Ethan helping as heroes), Cat Noir is able to get close to the Akuma and Cataclysms the Akumatized object. He flees immediately, thinking it better to show loyalty in small increments pffff

It’s a HUGE shocker to Giovanni. And Ladybug for that matter. Silver already packed a bag and had his violin ready to go, he grabs his things and doesn’t bother staying. He’s a little pissed Giovanni didn’t even try to stop him.

At this point Lyra and Silver like each other, but neither know how the other feels. Silver feels SO awkward about showing up at the Bakery with his stuff and almost turns around when Lyra’s mom (who had a bad vibe about Giovanni in the first place) spots him.

“Do you need a place to stay?”

“...No.”

“You’re lying. Tell me what happened.”

Silver reluctantly explains that he couldn’t stand staying there anymore, and that he had had enough of his father’s shit. So he left.

Lyra’s mom is a bit iffy on letting him stay. Without enough context it seems like Silver is just angry with Giovanni. Silver can tell she doesn’t understand and tries to explain the situation more.

“I… betrayed him. In a way. I’m sure he doesn’t want to see me around for a while.” “I understand. Feel free to stay the night, but you should talk to your father about whatever’s going on tomorrow. If he doesn’t let you back in you’re welcome to stay.”

Lyra shows up moments after, very confused. Her mom explains the gist to her and leaves them alone to talk.

Tikki overhears Silver explain the situation with a bit more detail and becomes suspicious. If Giovanni was Hawkmoth and Silver was Cat Noir, this situation would make a lot of sense. And Silver has the same hair color as Cat Noir (Lyra is obviously none the wiser because Adrien and Marinette be like that). Tikki doesn’t draw solid conclusions (it’s very easily just a coincidence) but she takes a mental note.

I think that’s where I’ll leave it. I’m already delving into so much plot skdjfbfb Anyways here’s a bunch of bonus drawings for sticking til the end!

[allegra-writes]

"Sunflower vol. 1"

Peter Parker x Reader

General audiences

Warnings: none

Series masterlist

Just a little drabble in the "Fine line" verse. This takes place before "Lights up" so you don't need to have read that first. Much like Sharon Carter in CATWS you're an undercover agent assigned to protect Peter. This is what happened the first time you met 🌻

He was... Cute. Normal. Unassuming. That was your first thought as your eyes found him in the crowded classroom. You could see the poorly hidden muscles under his ill fitting plaid shirt and dark hoodie, but the untrained eyes of his schoolmates were probably oblivious to them. He made a face at something a dark haired boy was saying and for a split second you saw the sassy Spider-Man from your footage but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. 

"Ok, Y/n… let's see where we can put you" The teacher, Mr. Warren, you reminded yourself, scanned the room for an empty seat, "Ah, there, you can sit next to Mr. Davies over there" 

"Can I sit next to Peter?" You interrupted the guy, making it sound like Peter Parker was your friend already. Director Fury had been clear: You were to keep a close eye on Parker, befriend him, protect him… and report his every movement back to him. And you couldn't very well do that from half a room away.

"I want you to be his shadow, his bestie, his freaking conjoined twin. If that boy sneezes, I want to know. If he tweets something, I want to know. If he makes a bad taste joke, I want to know" Fury had told you, pinning you with an intense look, "This isn't just a surveillance mission, I want a full on personality profile. Stark left him a way too powerful weapon, I'm not taking any chances, I need to know if he can be trusted with it before Mr. Hogan hands it to him"  

"A weapon?" You snorted, "What, Dumbledore left him Gryffindor's sword?" 

Hill scoffed in annoyance, but Fury smirked.

"See? That right there, agent, is why it has to be you, you speak the language"

"What language?" 

"The same Stark used to speak," The director clarified, "the one Parker still does..."

"With Peter? Why?" The teacher's sceptic voice brought you back to the present. You lowered your gaze, trying to appear suddenly shy. It seemed to work because Mr. Warren's eyes widened in surprise, "Oh...oh! Parker? Really?" 

God, what was wrong with everyone in this school? How come all the girls (and some of the guys) weren't crushing on Peter Parker? Were they blind or something? The teacher shrugged, 

"To each their own I guess… Mr. Parker" he called out, "Make room on your station, you have a new lab partner" 

Peter looked up, visibly startled. His deer-in-the-headlights face was adorable, and you genuinely smiled as you took your seat beside him. His cheeks turned pink.

"Hi, I'm y/n"

"Pa-arker. Pe- peter," his blush deepened, "Parker. I'm Peter Parker" he wanted to punch himself in the face. Why did he have to be such a loser? But you just smiled brighter,

"Hello, Peter Parker"

…

Peter was trying to keep his mouth shut, less he made a fool of himself again. Mr Warren was droning on about something in front of the whiteboard but he couldn't get himself to listen, you were just too distracting. And it wasn't even as if you were doing anything to attract his attention, you had long ago given up your attempts at conversation after one too many monosyllabic replies, and were currently doodling on your notebook. 

"You're not paying attention" He kicked himself internally, that sounded like an accusation. But far from offended, you simply smiled again.

"Nah, I already know everything about sunflowers. Here, let me show you" You turned his forearm on the table, rolling up his sleeve. The soft tip of your pen tickled his skin as you started to draw on the inside of his wrist, "The petals around the outside, are called ray florets. And the ones on the center of the flower… " He almost giggled as you started filling the center with a million little dots, "are actually hundreds of tiny flowers called disc florets. Some are male flowers, some are female, that's why they can self reproduce"

The word 'reproduce' shouldn't have sent a tingle down his lower abdomen, he knew that.

"You mean self-pollinate?" 

"Yeah, that…" you murmured, suddenly noticing how close you had leaned towards each other.

Peter cleared his throat,

"So… are they like, your favorite flower or something?"

"Damn right they are!" You laughed, the spell broken "They're badass: They are awesome painkillers when you're out in the field. And did you know they can remove heavy metals, and even radiation from contaminated soil? People planted millions of them in Sokovia after, well, you know…"

Peter frowned in confusion,

"Out in the field?"

Fuck! You had really said that. What a rookie mistake to make! But something about Peter just made you let your guard down.

"Yeah, like, in a sunflower field in the middle of nowhere." You scrambled to cover up, "Once I got lost in one while visiting my grandma, in… Kansas. Yeah, in Kansas. Twisted my ankle real bad, spent the whole night there actually"

Kansas? Try Argentina. It also had been a little worse than a sprained ankle. And you had spend days there, on the run after a mission gone wrong. Hadn't been for the flowers you would have starved to death.

The bell rang just as you were finishing your drawing, complete with a path of ants and everything. 

"You should text me sometime, I'm on Telegram" You said, grabbing your backpack and practically running out of the class. Peter looked down at his arm. Upon closer inspection, the ants were minuscule numbers. A huge, dazzled smile broke on his face. He dug out his phone, entering your number before it could get smudge or erased or something. On the contact name, he entered a single emoji: A bright yellow sunflower. 

To be continued...

[yikesharringrove]

how do u feel abt doing smth like a modern au where billy is like , all this punk rock and teen angst and leather nd jean jackets kinda of thing and steve is the exact opposite of him with fluffy skirts and soft polos nd just really soft and they two have seen eachother but dont actually talk to one another until they have a school project and they just. fall in love overtime? basically , femme steve + punk rock billy falling in love.

(pt. 2) also!! happy 21st birthday 💓💕💗💖💕

The university had a strict core curriculum, meaning that Steve was ten minutes late for his Philosophy of the Modern Era class.

He couldn’t find the room, was wandering around in this basement with his schedule written on the back of his hand. He was peering at room numbers and muttering to himself 067 067 067.

“You looking for that philosophy class?” Steve turned around at the voice.

The guy was stomping down the hallway in big leather boots. His jeans were ripped and shredded, and he was wearing a black t-shirt with pink font reading Dog Park Dissidents. His denim jacket was covered in pins and patches and sharpie drawings. He had Silence = Death written on one of the pockets, Being nice IS punk rock was scrawled down one arm.

“Yeah, that modern era one?” The guy smiled and nodded, reaching forward to shake Steve’s hand. His eyes were a startling blue, lined with a thin smudge on black. His hair was wild and curly, shaved on each side into this beachy looking mohawk. He had his nose and his eyebrow pierced, along with several in his ears.

“Billy Hargrove.”

“Steve Harrington.” Steve could feel the tips of his ears go red as Billy looked him up and down. He was wearing something cute for the first day of class, a chunky white cardigan over a soft pink peasant dress. He had gotten up early to do his makeup well, and was late to class anyway because this stupid building was a fucking maze.

They set off down the hall together, looking at each door they passed by.

“Oh shit. Pretty Boy, I think I got it.” Steve flushed slightly at being called pretty, still not used to being able to dress like this in public. Billy wrenched open the door, and stomped in, not a care in the world for being twenty minutes late.

The professor raised his eyebrow.

“And what were you two doing out in the hall?”

“I’m sorry, we couldn’t find the room.” Steve’s cheeks were hot as he was standing at the front of the class.

“That’s okay. you have missed class introductions, to please say your names, pronouns and majors.”

“Billy Hargrove, he/him, double majoring in literature and social work.”

“Steve Harrington, he/they. I’m also a double major in education and early childhood development.” The professor made a note on his role sheet.

“Thank you, you may sit down.” Steve went for the back of the room, flopping into the first empty seat he could find, ducking his head as he quietly got his laptop out. Billy had stomped into the seat next to him, had gotten out a notebook and proceeded to doodle in it for the rest of class.

He sat next to Billy every Monday Wednesday and Friday from 9:20-10:35 and and outside of their ten minute search for the classroom, they had yet to say anything to one another.

It certainly didn’t help that Steve was harboring a little crush on the guy. He would watch him in class, the way he would doodle little sunflowers in the margins of his notes, smiling softly at them.

“So, for the rest of the semester you will be working in pairs. I want you to go through the readings we have completely and work together with the philosophers we have discussed to create your own system for the modern era. How do you believe society exists now?” Billy turned to Steve, grinning at him.

“You wanna be my partner?” Steve gave a sheepish smile, his heart racing.

“I, um. Yes. Yeah, I’ll be your partner.” Steve dug his phone out of the tight pocket of his skirt, trading with Billy. He put his number under Steve Harrington - Modern Era Philosphy.

“You wanna get coffee after class, start working through our beliefs?”

“Um, sure. I don’t have class until, like, 3:30 today.” Billy grinned again and fucking winked at Steve. He needed to calm the fuck down.

“So basically, a lot of my beliefs are based on the punk message.” Billy was sipping at his black coffee, had laughed and said should’ve fucking known when Steve ordered a large mocha with extra chocolate syrup, and whipped cream. “I’m a very live and let live person, but I believe everyone should live and let live. If someone is trying to dictate how others should exist, they’re fucking garbage.”

“Okay, I actually really agree with that.”

“That’s because you’re punk rock.” Steve laughed, but Billy’s eyes were serious. “No seriously, there’s nothing more punk rock than being unapologetically yourself.”

“When did you get into punk philosophy?”

“When I was in high school. My dad was a real prick, and I was angry, and a lot of punk is loud and pissed off and it helped, but then I started going to shows, and talking to people, and it’s not what you’d expect. Everyone at a show is like a weird family for a night. If someone comes in and tries to fuck with someone, the family deals. I can’t tell you how many fights I saw that broke out because someone was perving on a girl, and these other guys started protecting her. And that only grew as I started getting into queercore.”

Steve was listening to Billy, eyes wide as he described stories from shows, how he had jumped in on fights to defend the family, how he would walk girls home or to their cars parked a ways down the street, how he knew everyone would do the same for him.

“God, I wish I had a community like that. I didn’t really have anyone growing up. You know, token queer in a small town kinda vibe.” Billy smiled at him sympathetically.

“That why you came out to San Fransisco?”

“Oh yeah. Wanted to come somewhere where, this, didn’t matter.” He gestured to himself. “I just don’t get why it bothers people. I just do it because it makes me happy. I don’t know why it concerns anyone else.” Billy was nodding vigorously.

“Exactly. That’s the whole truth about being queer. People hate you for something that has nothing to do with them. It’s completely wack. Like if I’m with someone in whatever capacity, we’re both consenting adults. It literally doesn’t matter.”

“Do you think we could expand upon this enough for our project? Talk about how we feel the world should just stop caring about what other people do if it has nothing to do with them.” Billy grinned.

“I think we could make something happen.”

They began getting coffee after each class, taking through their project, finding resources to back up the ideas they had discussed. The more time they spent together, the more Steve liked Billy, liked how sweet he was, how positive. They talked about having terrible parents, how Billy’s dad had kicked him out at sixteen for being gay, how he had lived with friends, saving up to get himself through college. They talked about how Steve’s dad had found his stash of makeup and threw it all away, making sure it was ruined and broken. How disappointed his father was that he was studying to become a teacher.

There was one Friday they had met up and stayed all day in the coffee shop stayed until the 5 pm closing.

“You wanna come over? I have a single room. We can keep working.” Billy grinned at Steve like he always did, showing off all his white teeth. So they walked side by side to Steve’s room.

Steve kept his room neat, a habit left over from overbearing parents who would shame him into cleaning his room.

Steve’s room was exactly how Billy imagined.

He had soft white lights, a full length mirror on one wall. His bed was covered in pillows, duvets, and even a few stuffed animals. The wall above the bed was covered in pictures of Steve back home, several with a group of younger kids, and a lot with a blonde girl.

“This your girlfriend?” Steve snorted.

“No, that’s Robin. She and I are just really close friends.”

“What’s with the kids?” Steve blushed.

“I babysat all through high school, and those kids kinda adopted me as their pseudo parent. It was a lot of driving them all over town.”

“That’s cute. That why you wanna teach?”

“Yeah, I’m good with kids.” Steve had plopped himself on the made bed. He watched as Billy took off his heavy boots, placing them neatly by the door before stepping onto Steve’s plush grey rug. His socks were thick wool and had little cartoon dogs on them. Steve was in love.

Billy sat with Steve on the bed. He was taking a closer look at the photos.

“I could see that for you. You’re a caring type.” Steve looked down as his feet, could feel his face getting hot.

“Why did you pick social work?”

“When I was a kid, CPS would be called to our place like, once every few months. My dad was a real good schmoozer, so I would always just be left with him. I wanna be able to help kids get out of bad situations.”

“God, and you call me a caring type. You’re gonna save the world.” Billy laughed.

“The children are the future. I’ll save ‘em, you teach ‘em.” When Steve looked up, Billy was leaning closer into Steve’s space. He had a soft smile on his face. His eyes were bright and beautiful and so fucking blue. “Can I kiss you?”

“Can you, what?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Why?” Billy still hadn’t leaned back.

“‘Cause I have a big dumb crush on you, and I think you have one on me.” Steve’s face was pink.

“I, uh, yeah. Go, go for it.” Billy laughed, taking Steve’s face in both hands. He leaned in, just gently pressing their lips together.

“So, was I right?”

“Yes. Very much so.” Billy laughed again, loud and sweet, pressing another kiss to Steve’s lips.

“You wanna go on a date? A real one? Not just us getting coffee and pretending we both weren’t totally into each other.” Steve snorted again.

“Yeah, I would really like that.”

[aelin-queen-of-terrasen]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 | 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤

Rowaelin modern AU ▶ Masterlist

note: don't want to bore anyone but if you like the fic, please take a moment to like, comment and reblog. thank you.

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Aelin Galathynius had to constantly remind herself that murder was very frowned upon as she waited for Meave to dismiss her. She had decided to drop by the principal's office after school ended in order to submit student applications for a position on the student council now that the student elections were close and Meave had called her in, insisting that she had a few details that needed to be discussed immediately only to leave her waiting in her office for the last half hour.

Rowan would be furious with her for being late to the diner. Where the fuck was even Meave?

Almost as if her thoughts had summoned the she devil, she stepped inside, her dark hair pulled back in a neat bun and her eyes trained on Aelin. She smiled but it looked more like a baring of teeth. "Aelin, I am afraid we will have to continue our discussion sometime tomorrow. I have other matters to attend to."

"Sure," Aelin said, wishing she could bang the black haired witch's smug face against the glass table.

After that, it did not take long for her to sling her backpack over her shoulder and slip out of the office. Lorcan had promised her a ride to the diner but she was surprised to find him waiting outside, leaning against one of the walls. He scowled, pushing himself off the wall. "Why are you surprised?"

"You waited for me for an hour."

Lorcan rolled his eyes. "Because Fenrys is your ride home. He convinced me to give you a ride home."

Aelin doubted that. She had informed Fenrys on phone earlier today that she would stop by the diner. Since the place was close enough, she had planned to walk over there on foot and then catch a ride home with Aedion once he was done with football practice. That meant Lorcan had no reason to wait around as her chauffeur and if she knew her best friend at all, he rarely did something out of the goodness of his heart.

She told him as much. "Don't bullshit me. What do you want?"

Lorcan said nothing until he parked outside the diner, ready to follow the girl inside. Aelin raised an eyebrow in question before realisation hit her in the face like a brick wall. "Lorcan, you mother hen, tell me you didn't come here because you are worried about me working with Whitethorn?"

His silence was answer enough.

Aelin threw her hands up in exasperation, wishing her friends would stop treating her like she was a fragile porcelain doll. Aedion had the overprotective brother role covered since they were children. She did not need someone else breathing down her neck about it too.

Not that she could do something about the protective bullshit. "Aw, Salvaterre, does that mean you admit we are friends?" She cooed, poking at his cheek.

Lorcan swatted her hand away and scowled even as colour rushed to his cheeks. The cruel, granite hewn features look softer as he clears his throat. "It means I'd rather Rowan doesn't kill you because who else will I pick a fight with everyday?"

"I am sure you can pick a fight with anyone if you like," she said, peeking inside the diner through the stained glass windows to see if Rowan was still here. It was an hour and a half after the time she had told she would be here at. She would not be surprised if he had returned home already, wherever that was. "I will let Rowan know killing me is off the table, don't worry."

"Fine but—"

Aelin rolled her eyes. "I will call you if he tries something funny, I will text you when I am home. I know, I know." Then she leaned in to kiss his cheek and was rushing inside before the poor thing could react.

She could imagine him scowling at her from outside the diner.

Finding Rowan in the diner was harder than she had assumed. Aelin had to look around for a good two minutes before she saw him in the cornermost booth, farthest from the entrance and the tattooed face hidden in a clean, dark blue hoodie. He had made himself inconspicuous with his face buried in his book and the hood drawn over his face, the silver hair hidden from sight. Muttering a quick greeting to the Emrys, the manager standing near the counter, Aelin slipped into the booth, seating herself across from Rowan. She started, "I am terribly sorry! You have to know—"

"Next time you are late, I'll let Mr. Gavriel know how responsible you are," he said, not looking up.

Aelin huffed. If it had been up to her, she would have been here on time. "It's not my fault fucking Meave decided to make me wait for her after school!" She won't be surprised if the principal had done it on purpose too.

Rowan rolled his eyes, sliding the notes he had made towards her. Aelin took that gesture to mean: I don't care. Start working. I don't want to waste any more time. Aelin's stomach had taken to making strange noises out of hunger as she went through notes after notes, then started making her own. She hadn't eaten properly in lunch and the half finished plate of fries resting on the table beside Rowan was not helping. Knowing Emrys, he would be here with her regular order soon enough but it was hard to concentrate on anything when her stomach kept making noises.

When her stomach growled for the fourth time in ten minutes, Rowan rolled his eyes and pushed his plate of fries towards her.

The reluctance must have been apparent on her face because Rowan said in a gruff tone, "Just take it. I don't want to keep listening to your stomach when I am trying to study." Those had to be the most words Aelin had ever heard him utter to someone.

Aelin cocked her head in amusement. "Are you saying I distract you?"

"I am saying," Rowan clenched his jaw, self-control in shreds, "that your stomach is loud enough to wake up the dead buried six feet under."

Aelin chuckled before she dug into the fries, finishing fast enough as though she had inhaled them. Rowan looked engrossed in whatever he was doing but but she knew he was sneaking glances every few minutes, knew because she was doing the same. When Luca brought her order to the table, Aelin offered her partner her food but he grunted in denial, leaving all the food for her to finish.

Not that she was complaining.

Rowan descended into silence again and no matter how much Aelin tried to make small talk, he shut her out, focused on his work. Fifteen minutes turned into an hour and Aelin decided she had had enough, already tired even if she hadn't done a quarter of the work Rowan had with piss poor handwriting, unorganized notes and a half finished doodle to show for it.

Aelin hid her messy scrawl from his vision before clearing her throat. "Can we stop now, please?"

"I am not done," he said simply.

Aelin lamented to herself for all of a minute before she decided it was time to act. She snatched his pen, holding it over her head. Rowan rose from his seat, backing her into one of the corners with a scowl on his face. The scowl deepened further when she ran over to the counter and tried to hide behind Emrys. The old man laughed heartily, stepping aside to give Rowan a wide berth. Traitor.

"Return my pen," Rowan said.

Aelin shook her head, stepping back.

Rowan took another step forward cautiously as if he was approaching a wild animal who he did not wish to provoke. He said through gritted teeth, "Return my pen, Aelin. I want to get this assignment over with."

Aelin tried to take another step back but collided with a wall, trapped. The next thing she knew, Rowan lunged towards the pen she had raised high in the air as if it were a trophy with his right hand, the left one grabbing her elbow. Aelin winced as he gripped one of the still healing bruises around her arm, immediately schooling her face back into neutrality when she realised what she had done.

But Rowan noticed. He dropped her arm immediately, eyes taking note of the bruises around her wrist. He said, "Aelin, uh, this... What happened?"

She fought to keep her tone casual, to chuckle. "I fell off my bed in sleep." Her voice sounded too loud to her own ears but she hoped he won't be able to tell difference. Rowan showed exactly how much he believed her words when he gave her a cautious look as if debating what to do next. Aelin avoided his eyes. She did not think her pride would survive the blow if she looked into his green eyes and found pity there.

Aelin had her eyes trained on the floor as she handed the pen back and straightened. "I uh, I should leave now. Aedion will be here any minute."

She knew Rowan was looking at her as she packed her backpack, stuffing the notebooks inside as fast as she could. Fumbling, she slung the backpack over her shoulder and walked out, not bothering to say goodbye. Rowan was still watching with lips pressed into a thin line and hands stuffed in his pocket when Aelin dared a look back. She did not turn again once more even when Aedion arrived to take her home.

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