#i thought that the on campus restaurants would surely take advantage of the fact the cafeteria is only open like 4 hours on the weekend

[sexy-candy-ass-karl-marx]

guys all the restraunts on campus are closed on weekends and the cafeteria doesnt open until 11 im gonna have to malnourishedly crawl there

[inskz]

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop  on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse. 

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence. 

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them). 

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you. 

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now. 

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago. 

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh). 

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before  since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him. 

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen. 

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff. 

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.  

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it. 

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups. 

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything. 

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas. 

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly. 

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil. 

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear. 

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch. 

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.  

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. 

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.  

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little… 

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter. 

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered. 

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask. 

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain. 

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.  

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in. 

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt. 

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately. 

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget). 

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground. 

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you. 

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch. 

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy. 

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials. 

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.  

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter. 

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview. 

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes. 

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can. 

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today. 

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.  

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso. 

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling. 

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue). 

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you? 

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time. 

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall. 

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next. 

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right? 

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.  

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should. 

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.  

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball. 

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves. 

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious. 

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.  

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in. 

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start. 

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours. 

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil. 

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.  

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - - 

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him. 

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross. 

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal. 

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning. 

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes. 

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it. 

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe. 

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars. 

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate. 

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm? 

[silver-starlight-99]

Monsters at Work:  The Jokester Generation  Part Four: Steps to an Uncertain Future

Be prepared for one doozy of an info-dump

One of the proudest moments of Tylor Benjamin Tuskmon’s life was the day he graduated Scarer Cum Laude from Monsters University.  It was a hallmark moment for the entire Tuskmon family in fact; as he was the first in his familial line to graduate from college.  Bernard and Millie Tuskmon couldn’t have been prouder of their son, and both were more than happy to share that act.  From as young as five years old, little Tylor was awestruck by the Scarers of Monsters Inc., I imagine like many Monster children his age.  But it wasn’t until the fourth grade that he made the decision to become a full-fledged Scarer once he came of age. 

The boy was a natural talent, with his height and horns giving him quite the intimidating profile.  But much like a certain green, one-eyed monster, Tylor wasn’t afraid to study like mad to perfect his skills, and made a hobby of collecting/memorizing every Scarer Card he could get his claws on.  His parents, despite coming from more of a lower middle-class background, wanted to do everything they could to support their child when they saw the dedication he was putting into his dream-career.  Bernard worked long nights at his family’s hardware store for years, and Millie even pawned off a number of family heirlooms, just to make enough to put their boy through college once the time came.  Add on the special scholarship he received from one of the most prestigious Scaring Schools in the country, and it looked like everyone’s hard work paid off after all.  Sure, that kind of laser-focussed dedication meant he wasn’t as sociable as most his age, but it was worth it if it meant being that much closer to his childhood dream. 

Besides his graduation, the last time Tylor had this much attention on him was during the party hosted by Dean Knight in celebration of him breaking an old MU Scaring record as a part of his final exam.  Beating even James P. Sullivan’s numbers on the Simulation Room, recorded from the monster’s time during the Scare Games. A fact that made its way across the school campus in record time, reaching the ears of a certain brother duo working in MU’s theater department.  They were both friends with the infamous college dropout, and thought he’d be interested to hear his old title was being taken over by this new blood.   

Even if he couldn’t remember the names of most of the people in attendance, despite having been in classes with them for years, Tylor couldn’t have been prouder, knowing all that hard work had been worth it.  Especially so because before leaving the party, his teacher, Professor Shade, pulled him aside to tell him he’d received a letter of recommendation from Monsters Incorporated.  Despite the controversies surrounding the company since the event deemed The Waternoose Scandal, Monsters Inc. was still considered one of the premiere energy factories in the country.  And, looking at the young monster’s impressive list of accomplishments, the Board of Directors wanted to accept him as soon as possible.    

This was everything Tylor Tuskman could’ve wanted.  The chance to live his dream, make his family proud, and make his mark on the world of Scaring.  He thought that after he graduated from college, it would be nothing but smooth sailings.  Little did poor Tylor realize, he would make an astronomical impact on not just the Scaring world, but the Monster world as a whole.  Just… not in the way he expected.  And he had one of his former childhood heroes to thank for that.   

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Most monsters would agree that everything began to change the morning The Waternoose Scandal was released to the public.  Some would argue that it was the initial sighting of the Tiny Terror of Monstropolis at the now famous restaurant Harryhausen’s that got the ball rolling.  Others say that the panic stirred by the escaped child was merely the spark that would ignite the true bonfire that would come to consume the city. 

Tylor Tuskmon was just a bit too young to remember much of the hysteria itself.  The almost two-year-old spent most of the time after the initial sighting held up in his family’s hardware store.  While Bernard worked to keep his family safe and provide his neighboring Monsters tools they could use to defend themselves, should the dangerous creature be spotted in their neighborhood.  It wasn’t until the next morning when Millie saw a televised announcement from the CDA giving a cautionary all-clear that the Tuskmons felt safe enough to take down the boards on their windows.  They, along with many of their other neighbors, spent much of the day in a state of anxiety, with a confused Tylor trying to comprehend why everyone he knew was being so skittish and weird.  By the following morning, it was announced that the CDA had located and returned the child back to it’s world, and their door was shredded for good measure.  The Tuskmon parents heaved a sigh of relief as it seemed things could go back to normal.  However, it wasn’t until three days later that the official story behind the escape was released to the public, and that initial air of dread would be replaced with something new.  

Henry J. Waternoose Ⅲ, during a city-wide energy crisis, was diluting company funds and manipulating his employees to build a prototype for something he’d hoped would reinvent Scream-power extraction.  While effective, it would put Scarers at a higher risk of contamination because of their closer interactions with human children.  And he was willing to put Monster society on-a-whole in danger by kidnapping thousands of kids in order to maintain his machine’s efficiency.  The Tiny Terror was just the guinea pig to test the prototype.  If all this chaos was the result of a single child escaping his grasp, who knows what would befall Monstropolis if a small army of them were able to revolt from their captors?  If not for the courageous, somewhat fool-hearty, actions of Monsters Incorporated’s top Scaring team, the situation could’ve been much worse.  Thankfully, Mr. Waternoose was quickly apprehended, any known conspirators were questioned, and the CDA would remain vigilant in locating any other associates.  One of which being Randal Boggs, another of Monsters Incorporated’s top Scarers, who seemed to have fled the city while James Sullivan and Mike Wazowski focussed their attention on the true head of operations.

Between the media coverage of the CEO’s trial, dealing with the continuing energy crisis, the protests that arose from Monsters angered by the gross negligence of Waternoose’s Scream Extractor plan, and the lingering anxiety from the initial child sighting, things in Monstropolis would remain… let’s say hectic for a while.  Because of The Waternoose Scandal, Anthropophobia was at an all-time high, especially in Monstropolis, where there were more than enough monsters happy to use that lingering paranoia to their advantage.  You’d be surprised by the amount of small and big-budget movies that were produced in response to the whole affair.  Along with Monstropolis politicians that would use this instance to promote themselves as beacons of safety during election campaigns.  Not to mention the dozens of Monsters who’d use The Waternoose Scandal as a way to sell cheap junk to gullible tourists believing they were purchasing actual weapons used against a human.

Meanwhile, as trust in Monsters Inc. was beginning to dwindle, the same could not be said for the CDA.  Mike and Sully may have received the lion’s share of attention and praise for their efforts, but public approval for the Child Detection Agency had reached new heights for their supposed work in apprehending Waternoose and detaining the dangerous child.  And as long as the heroes of the hour were “willing” to vouch for the good work of Roz and her subordinates, she was willing to overlook certain incriminating details that may have fallen through the cracks as she wrote up her report.

It would be two years since The Waternoose Scandal before the dust would truly settle.  While the fear of Humans would remain in the city, much of the initial mania had long-since died down.  Despite receiving a life sentence in the Monstropolis Maximum Security Prison, the former CEO would pass on due to heart complications just a year into his confinement.  Since then, Monsters Inc’s Board of Directors had appointed new CEO, a squirrely fellow named Hunter Tycroft, who was more than willing to comply with the CDA’s occasional sweeps of the factory in hopes of discovering any lingering documents involving Waternoose’s plans for the Scream-Extractor.

As for Mike and Sully, they would eventually go on to continue their good work as the best Scaring team in the city, even breaking the all-time Scaring record; a dream they’d both shared since their first days on the job.  A young Tylor Tuskman, along with many of his peers, would watch in awe from their televisions as mayor Titus Fangmore himself held a ceremony to congratulate the two for their good work.  But to those who truly knew the duo, their fire, that initial passion for their work that drove them to achieve such records, had been fading ever since Waternoose’s arrest.  They did their part to help with the energy crisis, but between Sully’s bout of depression and Mike’s aggravation over the constant harassment by the press, the two were going through the motions for a while.  But with each other’s support, they would eventually get their heads back in the game, and their normally cheerful personalities would return.  To the general public, it seems like things were finally going back to some sense of normal.   

But trust me, in a few years, the duo idolized as heroes, would soon become the center of a cultural upheaval that would drastically affect both Monsters Incorporated and the Monster world as a whole. 

——————————————————————————————————————————-

By the 10-year anniversary of The Waternoose Scandal, things in Monstropolis had almost returned to normal.  Sure, there would be the occasional conspiracy theorist looking to stir up the populace, something that was becoming easier through the development of technology and social media.  But of course, most Monsters are quick to dismiss the more outlandish stories.  I mean, come on; The CDA blackmailing Mike and Sully into assisting with the capture of a door-hopping child?  It sounds like a fun idea for a movie, but that’s just the kind of speculative fiction Monsters make up to milk whatever nostalgia they can from a big event.  Something like that couldn’t have actually happened and been covered up, right?

Well, whatever the case, Mike and Sully are brought in for an interview on national news to commemorate the anniversary, with many of Monstropolis’ citizens tuning in.  And while some of the two’s answers can’t help but feel a bit… scripted at times, things go smoothly.  That is, until the end, where Mike and Sully decide to make an announcement.  For what feels like the first time since the initial incident, the two choose to be more earnest about their time with the human child.  It’s not enough to technically break the vow of silence they had with the CDA, but it’s enough to talk about one specific experience.

It happened all at once, so they didn’t think much of it at the time, but there was something about that instance that always stood out to them.  Monsters had always believed it was a child’s screams that powered their world, yet a giggle had enough energy that it could blow out an entire apartment’s worth of appliances?  They only had a few experiences to go by, but Mike and Sully were at least open to exploring Laugh power as an alternative energy source for their world.  After living through, and being forced to work to their limits during an intense power crisis, there was something appealing about Monsters being able to harvest ten times the normal amount of energy from a single kid.  Of course, all of this was just working off of theories, but the Scarers were eager to reach out to others who’d help them test their ideas.  After all, if this was as successful as they believed it could be, this could completely revolutionize the power-production industry.  That is, if the higher-ups within that same industry were willing to accept the possibility of treating children as something other than a toxic battery. 

Yeah, unsurprisingly, a majority of Monster society had… let’s say conflicted opinions about this.  This wasn’t the first time the idea of alternative energies was brought to the general public, it’s not even the first time someone proposed something cleaner, sometimes with no necessity for a human.  But in a world where companies like Monsters Incorporated, Fear Co and Scream Industries have a monopoly on power distribution, they made sure to deter any who posed a threat to their bottom line.  Many of said companies have some sort of tie to major media outlets, so it doesn’t take much to persuade certain news stations to… alter the public perception of certain individuals.  Or just scare the populace into a frenzy akin to the Satanic Panic of the 80’s at the mere mention of alternative energies.  Monsters Bernard and Millie’s age can remember reading news articles in their high-school years about some kind of whack-job cult that believed the blood and teeth of human children could be turned into a reusable fuel, but only if pulled directly from the source.  Of course such rumors were eventually debunked, but their purpose was fulfilled, and most major cities would come to totally rely on Scream energy.  Leaving many of those same monsters who proposed a change to be publicly shamed into reconforming, or unable to build a functioning prototype for their idea because of a lack of funding.    

But things were different for Mike and Sully.  They weren’t some crackpot duo out to corrupt Monster society, these were the heroes of Monstropolis, the tops of their field in Scaring, and practically paraded by the CDA at any needed opportunity.  And now, they’re saying they’re willing to give it all up because of a hunch from an incident over ten years ago?  They’re claiming that the beings that have terrorized Monsterkind for hundreds of years are creatures that should be entertained and not terrified?  Are human children even truly toxic?!

So, like I said, many in the monster world were split on this idea.  Many of the older generation were quick to dismiss Mike and Sully’s idea, usually because of their own self-interests or internalized perceptions of humans.  One thing’s for sure, it hurt Tylor when Barnard insisted they get rid of all his Mike and Sully memorabilias after the interview, the elder Tuskmon believing the Scarers were just trying to reclaim their fame from ten years ago by making up nonsense about children not being toxic.  It was a sentiment shared by many Monster adults, unable to comprehend that such a seemingly obvious fact of their world was being challenged.  For Tylor’s generation however… things get a bit complicated.

Of course, for kids like Tylor who grew up in a time where anthropophobia was on the rise in their formative years, a fear of Humans was ingrained pretty early on.  But at the same time, these were kids that grew up during The Waternoose Scandal.  The seemingly-irrefutable truths of their parents’ era were being questioned, or outright exposed for their corruption.  Even if most Monsters of this younger generation were still brought up to be scared of humans, there was more than enough evidence for them to consider that perhaps alternative forms of energy production were worth looking into.  Not to mention, with the total boom of human-themed horror films that were brought about by the The Waternoose Scandal, just as many human horror film fanatics come to root for the monsters in movies, there were many Monsters that became fascinated with humans because of such productions.  While the Tuskmons may have considered their son to be a relatively good kid, in a fit of rebellion in his teen years, Tylor would occasionally sneak into his local movie theater to catch an age-inappropriate human-based horror movie.

As the young Monster would grow to hone his scaring skills, Mike and Sully were doing what they could to make leeway with their plan to bring Laugh power to Monstropolis, while dealing with the public backlash they were receiving as a result of their announcement.  Sure the younger generation was open to the possibility, but they needed individuals with a little more credibility in the corporate field to build a working prototype.  Not to mention the ever-daunting question of where exactly could they find Monsters that would be willing to be the test-subjects for such a project?  Because of their… complicated background with the folks at the MU Scaring school, Sully didn’t think it wise to turn to them for help.  Having the vocal support of a famous Scarer could’ve helped to give credibility to their idea, but as expected, most weren’t exactly willing to forfeit their Scaring careers or reputations on such an outlandish idea.

In the end, the only people they could get to listen to them were a little-known organization called CETHCA (Creatures for the Ethical Treatment of Humans and Children Alike.)  Because the Monster world’s understanding of human behavior is so warped, this group could best be described as a weird human appreciation club that was managed by extraterrestrials.  Unlike the general public, these individuals are actually curious to learn more about the habits of the human race, and have often tried to advocate for the proper treatment and compensation of children for their screams.  Of course, the media does what they can to paint these people as  attention-seeking wackjobs.  Sully himself even remembers listening to Waternoose complain about a CETHCA protest during his early days as a Scarer, with the CEO painting the lot as a group just a few steps up from an organized cult, with its Monsters so desperate for validation they’d believe any dangerous notions their leaders told them.

But when they finally caught wind of Mike and Sully’s proposal, they decided to pull their resources together to try and boost the public’s support for the idea.  It wasn’t quite the compensation for children they were hoping for, it was the first time in what felt like a long time someone in the energy business seemed to take an interest in showing these creatures some respect.  Like I said, these guys are certainly more sympathetic to humans, but that doesn’t mean they have the experience to be able to see children as beings equal to them in sapience and intelligence.  While they still didn’t have the most positive reputation in the eyes of the public, CETHCA had slowly received more members as dissatisfaction with Monsters Incorporated’s practices began to grow.  And with the development of social media, what started as an eclectic group of Monsters was soon enough to form a decent following.  And after getting to meet with Mike and Sully themselves, they took to the streets and the internet to spread the word of the power of laughter.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

It had been fifteen years since The Waternoose Scandal.  While their glory years as Monsters Inc’s top Scarers may have been behind them, Mike and Sully remained figues of interest, for better and for worse.  Their advocacy for Laugh power may have gained more legitimacy because of CETHCA’s efforts, but that didn’t mean many of their co-workers were quiet about their discomfort.  If Scarers didn’t have what it took to make children laugh, many would need to be laid off in exchange for those who better fit the bill.  In fact, a lot of Monster culture is based around a Monster’s scariness; for some it’s considered the measure of a true Monster.  There are many businesses outside of Scream production that only exist to try and make a Monster look more threatening.  If Laugh power proved to be more profitable, it meant not just a max layoff of Scarers, but a decline in the world’s economy, one Monsters may not be able to bounce back from.  A few of Monsters Incorporated’s Scarers decided to transfer to other companies, or outright quit to pursue more stable jobs in these unsure times.  If Mike and Sully weren’t doing their best to maintain Monstropolis’ energy levels, the higher ups probably would’ve fired them just to keep the company out of another scandal.

Which made it all the stranger when the two received a message from the Board of Directors.  Beforehand, Monsters Inc. never gave an official statement on whether they were for or against the idea of Laugh power, still just trying to clean up the mess left behind from The Waternoose Scandal.  But suddenly, Mike and Sully received an email stating that the company was interested in experimenting with Laugh power, if only to see for themselves if it was possible to multiply their energy output with just a few tweeks to the typical method.  While skeptical, Sully was just relieved that someone in the higher ups was finally taking their idea seriously, and agreed.  Mike was equally unsure of the Board’s intentions, but decided to use this to his advantage, managing to squeeze out a few work perks and a raise for him and Sully in exchange for his compliance.

From then on came the process of actually building the experimental “Laugh Floor,” and finding the right Monsters that would inevitably become the new faces of Laugh power production, aptly called Jokesters.  Using one of the older Scare floors reserved for members of the occasionally-used night shift, they would begin to build the first Laugh floor.  All that really needed to be modified for the process of energy extraction were the Scream canisters, to adjust to the larger amounts of output produced.  To do so, the Board pulled some strings with their connections at Monsters University, having some of their Scream-Can focussed students earn extra credit by assisting with the prototypes.  What took a bit more work to explain was the request for a simulation dummy that responded with laughter instead of screams.  But hey, as long as MI was willing to be more lenient in accepting their Scaring school students after graduation, the university saw no need to question things further.

With most of the technical stuff sorted out, then came the difficult task of finding the right Jokesters.  In the end, it was decided to be a mix of old Scaring pros to start things off, and then use them to train the fresher faces, as a way to prove that training was accessible to any who were open enough to try.  Mike of course led the charge in Jokester training, working with Ms. Flint to create a step-by-step training guide to eventually be shared with other companies and Scaring schools.  It was here where Mike saw his first recruit, Brian “Phlegm” Bile, a regular in the company’s simulation room who seemed to make a name for himself as the Monster to look to to see what not to do to Scare.  The pratfalls that seemed to keep him from becoming a true Scarer made Phlegm a perfect Jokester candidate.  

The next two actually reached out to Sully.  Scaring legend Carla “Killer Claws” Benitez was interested in the potential of techniques that could produce larger amounts of energy, so she was willing to do her part, even at her older age, to keep the city she loved from having to deal with another energy crisis.  For Rosie “Roaring” Levin, even if it came from a morbid curiosity than anything else, was curious to see how a more human-friendly form of energy-production would work, and so reached out to Sully to see what he had to say.  Lastly, but definitely the most surprising, was Art.  Yup, Mike and Sully’s old Oozma Kappa brother had certainly lived an interesting life since his graduation.  Part of which included joining up with CETHCA, if only to try and broaden his own understanding of the world.  He was actually the one to get the two Scarers connected with the organization.  And now that they were ready to put things in action, he was happy to lend his services as a Jokester.  

Mike included, that totaled to five Jokesters.  An admittedly small number, but something they could hopefully make up for with their extra energy output.  As Sully worked with the mechanical side of putting together the Laugh floor, Mike and Ms. Flint were using trial and error to turn these Scarers into Jokesters, and organizing their findings into a comprehensive manual for future trainees.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

It’s been twenty years since The Waternoose Scandal.  It’s just days away from Tylor Tuskmon’s first day at Monsters Incorporated.  Just a few days before this Scaring pro has his childhood dream turned on his head.  Just two weeks before the city of Monstropolis learns that one of their biggest companies is going through some big managerial changes.  And just a few days before a certain someone makes their official return to the city that changed their life forever.  Will the Monster world be able to survive this inevitable upheaval?  Who knows.  Either way, I suggest you grab a snow cone, you’re gonna want a snack as we wait for this powder keg to go off.   

——————————————————————————————————————————-

By the Gods!  When I started writing these things, I had no idea it was gonna take me this long just to get through my backstory stuff!  Ugh.  Well, it’s finally done.  And you know what?  Back when I did part one, I said I wasn’t planning on turning my ideas into a full-fledged fan-fiction.  Well guess what?  After all the energy I put into this, I’d feel pretty sh*tty if I didn’t bother paying off all the stuff I was building up to.  Yup, looks like I’m writing a fan-fiction for my Monsters at Work au thingy.  Hopefully it shouldn’t take me a whole month before I make another post about this.  But I won’t try to make promises I know I can’t keep.  To the handful of people who bothered to stick around this long, and to read all of my previous rambly-posts, thank you.  And I ask you to stay tuned.  The Jokester Generation is on its way.

[bangchanshehe]

The Only One pt.4

You and your life long best friend Chanyeol were like the same person. You knew everything about one another, and whatever problems you had you faced it together. But what are you supposed to do when you discover that your best friend loves you so much that only he can be important to you, and would go to great lengths to make sure that he was the only one? Yandere!AU

Chanyeol X OC

Word count: 2k

Jongin had let out a nervous laugh as he continued to get stared down by Chanyeol. But as Chan stared Jongin down you looked at his face with complete shock.

“he’s kidding” you said trying to alleviate the mood that had suddenly turned so cold

“no, I’m not” Chanyeol replied but now he was staring straight at you.

You had stared back at him with your eyebrows pursed and shock and confusion written all over your face. you had no idea where to even direct the flow of conversation from here on, but for now all you could do was drop it and move on. Matter of a fact… you should move on from this whole night.

“you know what” you started looking up to Jongin to give him an apologetic grin “I’m really sorry but I’m starting to feel really tired and I’ve got a little bit of a headache.” You didn’t wait for anyone to speak up or say anything as you began to pack up all of your things in your bag. “I think I’m gonna take off for now. see you tomorrow!” you said to Jongin

He stared up at you confused and concerned “wait!” he called out to you and you only turned your body slightly to face him “what about today’s lecture notes?” he asked

You let out a sigh before responding “I’ll get a picture of them tomorrow.”

Jongin nodded his head and gave you a small blank smile “goodnight. And feel better!”

You smiled a fake grin one more time before you walked out of the restaurant and on the path to get back to your apartment.

While you walked your mind kept replaying Chanyeol saying that he liked you. And you couldn’t help but feel a pain in your chest and a mixture of emotions all at once. Sure, there was a small part of you that was more than excited that Chanyeol had shared feelings for you that you had once had. But those feelings were buried deeply inside of you and you wanted to keep them down at bay… it was the only way that the two of you could keep things from falling apart. Or maybe he was genuinely only saying those things so that he could drive a further wedge between you and Jongin….

Jongin… why would he do this to me? You thought to yourself. He was admired all over campus and women quite literally threw themselves at him so you had no reason to believe that he could be capable of doing something like this. And if he really wanted someone he could have his pick of anyone on campus. So why would he result to using such evil and malicious tactics to take advantage of someone?

You sat down on a park bench so you could take a few breaths and calm down before you began on your talk home again. There was at least another mile in between you and the safety of your apartment, and you wished now more than ever that you had a car, or at least a bike.

What would happen to you if you had been feeling serious side affects of whatever Jongin had put in your drink? Would you end up asleep on campus somewhere? Or would someone else take advantage of you In such a vulnerable state? Just the thought of what could have happened caused shivers to run up your spine and tears to spring to your eyes.

You were reaching up to wipe the tears before they could fall from your eyes when you felt the firm grip of a hand on your shoulder. The sudden contact had caused you to quickly turn to the side and look up to see who had startled you. And you let out a half satisfied sigh when you saw the familiar face of Chanyeol looking down at you.

“are you okay?” he asked panting like he had been running for miles.

You didn’t say anything to his question but nodded your head and let it hang in exhaustion. Chanyeol had walked around the bench and sat by your side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and holding you close to his side. He looked at your face and let out a deep sigh.

“no, you aren’t.” he took your hand into his and he traced small circles into your palm with his thumb “look at me”

Slowly you had turned your face towards him at his request and you could see in his eyes that he was really concerned about you. Feeling so small and disappointed you let the tears run down your face. Chanyeol eagerly wiped them away and pushed your hair out of your face.

“don’t cry…. Don’t cry.” He cooed “I’m here. I’m gonna take care of you” he said softly before he pulled your frame into his chest to give you a warm hug.

The two of you sat there for a minute while you cried and Chanyeol did his best to comfort you. You had so many emotions running rampantly through you at once and you didn’t know how to deal with them other than allow for them to flow out with your tears.

You knew that you would eventually need to deal with what all was said and done tonight, but for now the most important thing was for you to get home safely. You had taken a few deep breaths to calm down your breathing and stop your tears. And as soon as you could think calmly again you sat up and gave Chanyeol and appreciative small smile.

He in return gave you a small smile back before he stood up and held his hand out to you. You glanced at it for a moment before you took it and stood with him at his side.

“come on. Let’s get you home.” He said softly before he guided you hand in hand back to your apartment.

The entire time that the two of you walked together you held complete silence. There was no exchange of words and instead you let the subtle sound of the breeze against the trees and the crickets fill up your mind.

And as the two of you approached your apartment you halted your steps forcing Chanyeol to stop and turn to face you. You weren’t sure why, but you felt like if he were to follow you inside then things would change. for some reason it felt like allowing him to go in with you would be a confirmation of sorts, and you weren’t ready to deal with the consequences.

“what’s wrong?” Chanyeol asked you slightly concerned.

You shook your head and gave him a small polite smile “nothing, I just want to be alone right now” you said quietly

“I cant go home!” Chanyeol said in a quiet hushed tone “that guy knows where you live. What if he comes back?” he exclaimed “or what if you end up getting sick from whatever he put in your drink!”

You wanted to Immediately turn him down so you could have some alone time to think before you had to face both him and Jongin once more…. But the longer that you thought about it the more you believed that it would be safer to stay together. Especially after seeing the podcast update about a girl who’s apartment got broken into.

You looked at Chanyeol in the eyes and you could see how in distress he was. Right now it didn’t matter if Chanyeol liked you or not, he simply wanted to take care of you and make sure that you were okay. Plus, if he did he had at least respected you enough to not take advantage of you last night so there was really no reason to feel suspicious about him.

“okay” you whispered and Chanyeol responded with a smile

The two of you quietly went up stairs and the moment that you were inside of your apartment you were hyperaware of all of his moves. You watched as he made himself comfortable by getting a glass of water from the tap and then sat down in front of your tv to turn on Netflix.

You decided that you needed some time and space so you quietly took off to go to your bathroom to shower. As you stripped down and allowed yourself to soak under the hot, cascading water you thought about where things were going to go from here on.

Surely you couldn’t be friends with Jongin anymore or even act like everything was okay. Dropping the class was not an option. You were already so far into the semester and your grades were way too good to give up at this point. And your mom would kill you If you told her that you needed to drop a course. Giving up was simply not an option. Plus if you had told your mom that something like this had happened to you on campus she would have raised hell and completely removed you from this college all together.

you had let out a loud groan and ran your hands through your hair, exasperated that you had to deal with something like this, and yet so very very thankful that nothing was taken any farther.

“are you okay?!” Chanyeol asked busting through the bathroom door.

“fuck you scared me!” you yelled back

You were completely caught off guard by Chanyeol barging through the door that the sound immediately had you clutching at your chest and left your heart pounding.

“sorry.” Chanyeol said softly “are you okay though?”

“yeah” you mumbled back “I’m just thinking about things”

“okay, ill be outside”

“wait…” you called out and closed your eyes before you continued “channie….”

“yeah?” he asked

“what you said at the restaurant…. Did you mean that?” you asked him and waited what felt like lifetimes before you finally got a response back

“about me liking you?” he asked back in what could barely be heard.

You didn’t respond to him and instead waited quietly for any sort of response. And you were scared of that question itself. You were halfway scared to even hear what his answer would be. Because a part of you wanted to only remain friends so that you would always have each other forever. And the other part of you loved the idea of being able to be with Chanyeol as a real couple instead of daydreaming about it like you had for years.

“of course I like you….” He said like a groan “you are the most amazing and beautiful woman that I know. But I would never do anything to damage our friendship…which Is why I kept it a secret for so long.”

You had remained silent and you could only hear the shower as it hit the bottom of the shower floor and the pounding in your heart. You had a million questions for him and a thousand things to say, but you couldn’t find the words to speak.

“if me confessing to you is going to change things and make everything awkward then just forget that I even said anything…. Because I would rather be friends with you than not have you at all” Chanyeol said before he walked out of the bathroom.

By the time that you had finished your shower you had walked out to see that Chanyeol was lying down on your couch with a pillow and a blanket, and the lights turned off. And instead of bothering to check if he was really asleep or not you continued to bed. Hopefully tomorrow would be a better day for you and Chanyeol both. But only time could tell.

[miyaniacs]

Mafia AU - Bokuto x fem!reader

You are mine.

Chapter 4 - You work for them, right? ; next ; Index ; masterlist

warnings: some NSFW at the end 

Monday, 9 pm

You have absolutely no idea what just happened . He knows that you work for their opponent, however he assumes that you are forced to do so? 

“Hey, Y/n? Don’t you want to eat your fries?” Bokuto asks you. 

You look down - Oh yeah right, he brought you to some fast food restaurant so you can talk. 

“Yeah sorry I’m just … confused.” You admitted truthfully. 

“I’m sorry that I was so harsh on you back on the campus… I didn't want to give off the wrong vibes since Ushijima was there too.”

“No it’s - How did you know?” You finally get yourself to ask him. 

“I knew something was off, and after I saw that bug in my car, and then the small gun you left in my room..” He look into your eyes, “Yes I knew you are the one that bugged my car. And I also knew about your two phones. I’m sorry but I checked your purse when you were asleep, I’m living a dangerous life so I alway have to be carful.”

“Wait… so you lied to your boss? And told him this guy was the one who betrayed you?” You looked shocked. 

“Yes. And I’m sorry but Atsumu also was the one who drugged you.” He admitted 

“WHAT?!” You squeal, “okay okay.. this is tooo confusing. Can you just tell me the truth about everything that happened since our first meeting?” You ask shyly. 

“Okay so… I got a strange feeling from the moment I saw you. No one would just let a strange men driver her home, there had to be something else going on. After the Adlers crashed our deal, I remembered that Tsumu sent the message when you had my phone, so I checked my car and found the bug. I talked about it with the others and we decided to watch you in case anything seems off. So we found out about your real home. When I saw you at the club that night, you seemed extremely nervous for some reason, you should not know about the job I’m doing so you should not know that I was at the club. But it seems like you haven’t been shocked about seeing me there. So we figured it out. It wasn’t a coincidence that you bumped into me that night, neither was it a coincidence that the apartment I drove you to, was one that belonged to one of the firms working for the Adlers. So Tsumu, Hinata and Sakusa wanted to talk with you so we drugged your drink. I came up to you planning to  get you out of the club but our boss wanted to talk with this guy with you, so we had no choice. But the way you shivered - you clearly aren’t used to all of this, so you can’t be part of the Adlers. That’s why we blamed this guy- don’t feel bad, he was already to die that night. So yeah when you were blacked out, I checked your stuff and our suspension that they force you to do this stuff just manifested. Was this clear enough now?” He finally ends his monologue and runs his hand through his grey hair. 

That’s a lot to take in. So you really barely escaped death that night. You were about to answer but Bokuto opened his mouth again. “Oh yeah after you left, Sakusa, our Sniper, was following you and saw that Ushijima picked you up and that he stayed the rest of the weekend. I just spammed you hoping to get an answer from you because I was actually scared what he would do to you.. If he’d killed you..” He whispers the last part, eyes showing how deeply he cared. 

Your heart arches as you see the way he looks at you. He’s not faking this, he really cares about you, he really feared for your life while in reality you had the time of your life with Tosh. You feel so bad for him worrying about you, you totally ignore the fact that a SNIPER stalked you. And not just any Sniper. Sakusa. He’s feared for a reason. Even Kageyama, the Adlers equivalent of Sakusa, has respect for him. 

You put some of your now cold fries in your mouth to get more time to think before you answer him. 

“I’m so sorry.” That’s the only thing you get out. You can’t lie to him, not now. Not when he looks at you that way. 

“No, don’t. .You shouldn't apologies, Y/n. Non of this is your fault. I just wish I could help you to get out of this, to get you out of this world.” He carefully takes your hands in his, thumbs stocking your palms. “I don’t think you can..” You mumble looking down at your hands. “We figure something out okay? But as for now - let’s have some fun, shall we?” He smile and one of his hands lets go of your hand to lift your chin up. “Okay sure, but-“ you begin but he interrupts you “No BUT! I know you don’t have any classes tomorrow” He smirks and gets up waiting for you to follow his actions. With a sigh you get up. What have you gotten yourself into. He takes your hand into his and walks out of the restaurant. 

Tuesday, 1 am

 You rest your head against Bokuto’s shoulder as you watch the stars. His arm is wrapped around your shoulder pulling you closer resting his head on yours.

Cuddling the Teddy , Bokuto won for you at the shooting stand, you were lost in your thoughts. After he lend you out of the restaurant, he took you to the amusement park, which is currently in town. You shared some cotton candy and Churoos, his brain was frozen because he didn’t want to listen to you while drinking the Slushy. Then you walked past this shooting stand with this adorable Owl Teddy. Bokuto saw the look in your eyes and stoped to win it for you. “Hey you gotta take advantage of my skills.” He smirked at you as he easily hit all the targets. 

His Point of View. 

Looking down at her, he smiles. You looked so carefree some time ago. The way your (hair-color) hair shined in in the colourful lights, how your eyes sparkled as he gave you the cotton candy and your beautiful laugh. He wants to hear you laugh so carefree more often. You were so innocent, so pure so lovable. He feels the need to protect you and to get you out of this world, but that would also mean that he has to let you go and he wasn’t ready for this yet. He knows that you two just met, but you already changed him. He feels like he can be the 24 year old boy he is, without hiding his friendly, playful and caring side - Whenever he’s with you he can forget about his other life for a few hours. 

He feels you shiver and immediately takes off his jacket dropping it over your shoulders, getting the reward of you blushing. 

Your eyes locked and it’s like the world stopped around you two. He leans down carefully, not wanting to scare you away again. His one hand moves up to cup your face and he leans in. 

Your Point of View. 

Your heat stops the moment you feel his lips on yours. 

His lips were soft, warm and move perfectly against yours. However the kiss ended sooner than you want it to end. Slowly you open up your eyes and look up at his golden ones, which seem to shine even more than usual. A smile forms on his lips and he leans his forehead against yours. 

“I should take you home.” He whispers. Yes he should, yet you don’t want to. You don’t want to end this moment, you don’t want him to leave. 

The walk back to his car was quiet. His arm, was still tightly wrapped around your shoulder, while yours hold the plushie owl. 

Tuesday, 3 am. 

You stand in your apartment, watching the black car speed down the road, as you hear your door open again. For a second you hoped it would be him, which was stupid considering the fact that you just watched him driving off. 

“I saw you had some fun tonight.” A deep voice growls and you hear footsteps coming closer to you. “Does he know anything?” he asks. 

Two strong hands grab your hips and you get pushed into a broad chest. “No, he thinks you guys are blackmailing me to do this.” you whisper suddenly overwhelmed by his presence. You feel slightly chapped lips on your neck along with teeth gazing over your skin. “Were you enjoying it? His hands on your body.” He bites down, resulting to you moan. “Or do you wish he was me? Do you want his lips on yours again?” You hear the fabric of your shirt ripping. He runs his hands over your now exposed skin. “Answer me now.” He demands his voice cold. 

“Yes.” You answer truthfully, and teasingly.

“Wrong answer babygirl.” He growls. In a matter of seconds his hands left your body and you hear him walking over to your bed. 

Turning around you are met with his strong intimidating gaze. 

“Strip.” He demands. Carefully you take of what’s left of your shirt and start unbuttoning your jeans. Left in only your underwear you look at him. He only raises one eyebrow and on instant you being to take off your bra and panties. He moves his finger, telling you to come over. “On your knees.” He orders. Simultaneously to you getting down, he stands up and pulls down his pants along with his underwear. 

Tuesday, 5am

Good thing that you don’t have any classes, you think but your thoughts are interrupted by a hard slap on your butt. 

Your hips are pulls backwards and your back arches as you feel him entering you again. He grabs your hair and pulls your upward so your back is pressed against him. One of his hands cups your chest while his other one moves to your neck. He bites down on your shoulder as he feels you tightening around him again. “Already cumming again? Do i make you feel this good?” He groans and speeds up his movements. “Y-Yes.” You moan out and you feel him going even harder and rougher on you. His hips slam mercilessly against you, as you feel the knot in your stomach loosen. He fucks you through your .. what.. sixth orgasm of the night, not stopping one seconds, just going harder as he hears you screaming his name.

“You belong to me.” He growls, pulling out of you, pushing your back on the mattress, he throws your legs over his shoulders and pushes himself into you again. You roll your eyes back, your nails digging in his back muscles. “No one else is allowed to touch you the way I do. You are mine”, he declares, “Do you understand that?!- he could never make you feel as good as I can.”  To empathise his worlds he slams into you even harder and faster, showing off all his strength. Your bed is shaking with every thrust of his.

“Yes- Yes - omg Tosh just like that ahh.” By now you’re a moaning mess, not one of your thoughts belongs to Bokuto, Ushijima fills up every pore of you. 

“Say it.” He says and starts sucking on you already bruised skin. 

“I’m yours Tosh. Your’s only.” 

taglist ( open ) : @kageyamasbraincell , @theduvetpirate , @tendouthighs​ ,  @lilacshouko​ @softhourswithseb​ @theperksofcoffee​ @cuddlesslut​ @chromaticstudio 

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (15)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

There is nothing better to keep the most precious memories and beauties of life than photos. All those moments that we want to keep forever other than in our memories, no one wants to forget them. Holidays, meetings, the first kiss, marriage, birth... Birthdays. In your family, every little moment of happiness has been photographed. And by the way most of the photos concern you. From your birth... to your degree.

Melina, at your request, had brought you your photo album, which your father had created the day he knew your mother. And it must be said that it was... unusual. And I'm not talking about the outfits of the time.

“Wow. I'm glad I didn't live at that time... A little too eccentric for me.” she said with a laugh.

“Me too... My father and mother said it was the best years of their lives. When they could do what they wanted without worrying about anything. But their clothing taste was horrible. My father kept this shirt for years, until my mother forced him to throw it away because it was too small for him.” You answer with a smile.  

“in the meantime, you were a beautiful baby, a little plump but adorable.”

“I'd love to see you in a picture when you were a baby. I'm sure you weren't any better.” You replied with a laugh, Melina turning her head slightly embarrassed.

“I admit my defeat. Oh, did you get that stuffed animal for your first birthday, too? My mother had gone all the shops in the city to find her. And this plastic duck for the bath... a classic.”  

You both continue to flip through the photo album while laughing at the various pictures of your father being a fool. In fact, out of 3/4 of the photos, your father is a fool. It was in his temperament, so was your mother. They had found themselves there, two people with the same joy of living. then you end up falling on a photo... very familiar. You and your parents, under the snow, posing next to the snowman and the snow castle you had made. It was a few days before Christmas. The best Christmas you've ever had.  

You breathe deeply and you turn the page, spending your high school years quickly, most of your "friends" were true traitors who appreciated you just because you were the best student in the school. Then came your college years that allowed you to meet your real friends. Student nights were always in order and until proven otherwise, you never missed a single one. Even though you're not very friendly with alcohol, it was fun to see others drunk to vomit. Melina and you exchanged on your college years and if yours was pretty cool, for Melina it was hell. Essentially because she was often seduced by the worst bastards on campus. But after a few well-placed kicks, the problems were usually resolved. few came back after a blow to the crotch.

“Well, you were really popular.” you said looking at her.

“Too popular. you understand, a Mexican in my university, for guys it was the Holy Grail. Oh, she's such a beautiful picture. She's new, isn't she?” she said pointing at the last photo of the album.

This photo... your parents' wedding anniversary. You paid them the restaurant and you had the best night of your life... The last one. Tears flowed down your face one after the other, falling on the album. Melina handed you a handkerchief.  

“What's happening to you? You don't feel good you want me to go and get a doctor?” She asks worried.

“No no, it’s fine. I just...i just miss them. I miss them very much, and let's say that... where they are it's hard to call them... it's a remote village.” you respond, wiping your tears.  

“Oh...I see. Well, when you can take a vacation... go and see them. I'd love to meet them. And then who knows if you and Jed... Go out together, you can introduce them to their future son-in-law. I am sure they would get along.” She replied before receiving a message. “Speak of the devil... He's asking me to tell you that he's eating and that as soon as he's done, he's on his way to see you. you've become inseparable together.”

“Let's say... I don't know, from all the boys I've met... he's the only one I trust. With Mattew, of course!”

“I see. Ok! I gotta go. The hours of morning visits are almost over, I'm hungry and I'm working this afternoon. Rest well and... I can't wait for you to get out of here.”

You say goodbye to Melina with a wave of your hand before letting her go. You look at your parents' photo one last time before closing the album and placing it on the small bedside table. This album means a lot to you and for nothing in the world you wouldn't throw it away. All the best moments of your life are inside. You take a look at the bouquet of flowers that Jed gave you yesterday. Introducing him to your parents, seeing them get along, is something you wanted... but that will never happen.

“You’re mine”

These words resonate in your mind like cymbals. You don't know anything about him, but obviously he knows everything about you. At least about your life in Roseville. Maybe by getting to know him you’ll find something that will allow you to reveal to all his true face. It's a lead to exploit. It is said that curiosity is a defect but... Here your growing curiosity for Ghostface could bring it down once and for all.

Tell yourself you're playing chess with him. Every move you play, both of which will bring you closer to victory. But a bad move, a misstep, one small mistake and you'll lose the game. Except that in this case, it could be fatal to you, because it’s sure that if Ghostface understands what you are trying to do... He'll kill you for sure.

“I have to be careful. If I make a mistake, he'll stick his knife between my eyes. Or worse... he will go after all those I love. I have the lives of many people in my hands. I have to make sure they all stay alive, until he falls.” you whispered to yourself, before you breathe deep and lie down, taking advantage of the reason no one is there to take a nap. You need to rest, so you might as well do it while you're safe.

The fresh air from the beach makes your hair twirl while you watch off a couple with their child playing in the sand. This lovely family... It's yours. A smile appeared on your face, when the wind blew louder lifting clouds of sand. Soon you find yourself in a sandstorm, desperately looking for your parents. You shout their names desperately while putting your hand forward, your eyesight blurred by the sand. You hear them you call and then suddenly... There's nothing left. absolute silence. And a bloody smell floating in the air. a smell you'd like to forget. The storm rages and suddenly a hand grips you, his hand. You barely have time to see the outline of his mask as a blade crashed into your chest, piercing your heart.

You wake up startled, trying to catch your breath. It's a nightmare again. But different this time. As you gradually regained your mind, a hand landed on your shoulder that recoiled you with fear. When you look towards this hand, to find out who owns it, you suddenly feel relieved to see that it was Jed. You look at the clock and well...it was more than a nap.

“Sorry... I didn't mean to scare you. Everything's fine? You're shaking.” he said worried.

“I’m...I’m fine. Just a nightmare...That...damn Ghostface scares me even I'm far away from him. But I'm glad to see you.” You respond smiling a little at him.

You talk for about thirty of everything and nothing. Jed working from home since what happened, he doesn't really have any funny stories of the job to tell. He looked, with your permission of course, at your photo album, laughing from time to time on some embarrassing photo of you. His piercing blue eyes rose on you from time to time, and his face displayed that smile, his lips that you want to touch with yours.

“I envy you; you know. You've had parents who loved you, protected you and took care of you. I had... soulless bodies. I hope I will have the opportunity to meet them one day. With the life they've had, at least from what you've told me, I'm sure they have some fascinating stories to tell.” said Jed a little melancholic.

“I... I'm sorry, but it won't be possible. it will never happen.” you answer sadly looking at him, surprised by your response “If...if I tell you everything, I want you to promise me you won't tell anyone.”

He hesitates for a few seconds before nodding.  

“I... I lied.” you start, seeing him a little confused. “Remember that man who came to the café? Mr Parkson? It’s...it’s not my banker. It happened just after my parents' wedding anniversary, 5...6 years ago. at the time I already had my own apartment and I was working as a waitress in a small restaurant. I came to see them all weekend, it was our little daily ritual. My mother made the meal and I made dessert. But that day... I've seen my life come to an end. The house was barricaded. Police prevented anyone from entering the house. And then... I've seen them. In fact, I saw the two body bags they were carrying. I collapsed. The worst part is that an hour before, I had spoken to them on the phone. In the space of an hour... I lost the two people I loved the most in the world. And I don't even know why.” you said tears beading at the corners of their eyes.

“I... I’m sorry. Really. I didn't want to make you relive such a terrible day. No one knew or saw who killed them?” said Jed holding a handkerchief.

“No. They were both stabbed. The police thought of a burglary that went wrong but... nothing had been stolen. And from memory... I don't remember them having one or more enemies. They were nice to everyone.”  

“A free murder, then. Or maybe a burglary went wrong actually. But that doesn't mean they deserved to die. So, Mr Parkson is...”

“The executor of my parents' will. I asked him for time to think about it. And when he came, I asked him for another week. I am the only heiress, even if they had very good relations with my uncles and aunts. They should have their share. And yet I'm the only one. Now you know the truth. I trust you to keep this to yourself.” You said with a little smile.  

“I will. I promise. I suppose... that I also have a confession to make... I lied, too.” responds Jed clasping his hands and looking elsewhere.

You're looking at Jed, surprise. Him, lying? No one is perfect but it's still hard to imagine Jed lying. But lying about what? What could be so bad for him to lie? Maybe his parents treated him even worse than he said? Maybe he just doesn't have parents? That he lived in a foster home? Which would explain why he was treated so badly...

“I... I already have girlfriends when I was younger. 2 to be more accurate. The first one we didn't go far but we stayed on good terms. The second...” He starts before looking at you, breathing deeply. “Her name was Carla. She was as small as you. Red hair, green eyes... And a natural beauty. She was different from the others. She didn't see me as a little nerd hiding in a corner, being humiliated by big morons. No, she saw me as a normal person. A lot of boys were circling her. But it was me that she had chosen. We stayed together for four years.”  

“Oh... It's really adorable... You must have been a lovely couple, and you love each other very much.” you said touched to know that in the end, Jed met someone who gave him what he always needed: love.

“Yeah... we had an apartment of ours. We were happy. And one day... She became seriously ill. She rushed back to the hospital. I thought she would make it. That she would be better and that we could go home, and live as before. But the reality came back to me in my face. Even today, 5 years later, I can't turn the page. But it's not the worst.” he replied, his hands shaking.

“What happened?”  

“... The doctor who took care of her let her die. He could have treated her. But he let her die. I found out about it when I found her medical records. I did research, talked to other doctors, and they all told me the same thing: there was a treatment that could have saved her. When I went back to see her doctor...” He stops for a few seconds, as if he were looking for his words. “I insulted him with all the names, and I denounced him in a newspaper article. But it didn't go any further. You have no proof Mr Olsen. They're just accusations. Nothing more. That’s what I was told. And that's how it ended. In total injustice.” He said, looking at you, his eyes filled with sadness, anger and despair.

You don’t know what to do or what to say. Why people are so... Cruel? He could treat her and he let her die! Not to worry about the opinion or reaction of those around her! It's purely outrageous. And it is men like this who take care of the dying. Without thinking, you stand up in bed, to hug Jed, which caused him to startle slightly. Deep down, you know he needs it, and that in this room, at that moment, you're the only one who can comfort him. And for nothing in the world you wouldn't want to let go. But after a while, he will have to go home.

“Everything you went through, you didn't deserve. You had the right to be loved. Life is so cruel... I wish I could have been there to support you. Whenever you needed it, I wish I was there.” you said hugging him a little more.

He did not answer. And for several minutes none of you dared to move. You made the first gesture and released him. Reluctantly, of course. You smile at him, a sincere smile, sorry, but a beautiful smile. Suddenly, without warning, he pressed his lips against yours. Soft, like silk, just like last time. But this time, it was he who took the initiative. He recoiled slightly and just as you were going to speak, a nurse opened the door, signalling the end of the visit.

“I'll pick you up tomorrow. Be ready, sleep well.” He said dropping a quick kiss on the lips before leaving.

It took you a few minutes to get your mind back, before you blushed of what had just happened. Jed kissed you. It was HE who kissed you. Not you. It was sudden, unexpected, it was... It was very nice. You would have liked to keep him with you, kiss him over and over again but unfortunately... you are not at home. The nurse gave you the care, while another brought you the evening meal: potato salad, a steak with carrots, a small cheese and a compote. It's like a school canteen meal. The evening came quickly, you know he's coming. It's only a matter of time before he...

“I'm going to think you're inviting me in, you know that?” he said, chuckling

“You're not going to tell me you'd rather go into people's homes by offense?” you respond looking at Ghostface.

“Oh? You're not insulting me tonight? No fear? What happened, did you gain courage by magic?  

“Let's say that now I expect to see you every night... It's starting to become a habit. Then? Are you still playing the nice little Ghostface or are you that sadistic lunatic following me everywhere again?”

“Ha ha, we'll say both. But obviously I see you're feeling better. I can't wait to visit your apartment again every night.  But I'm also here to tell you... that I'm preparing everything for that dear McKellan. You'll see when he's dead, you'll finally be in peace. Or almost.” Said Ghostface taking gently your face with one hand.  

“I'll never be quiet while you're here. And there's no way I'm going to let you do that!” you said before you feel his hand tightening on your chin.

“You're really going to have to stop living in your fucking fairy tale. And you seem to forget that if you ever report me to the police... I'll kill you, or I'll kill your dear little Jed. Besides, I don't understand what you find him by the way...” he replied shrugging his shoulders, bringing his face closer to yours. “But I love women like you. Who resists me by using another man as distraction.”  

You raise your hand to push him away and hit him, but you both heard steps. he finally let you go and miming you to shut up, he walked to the window and sent you a kiss before disappearing. If you wanted to know more about him, for tonight it's missed. But you know he'll come back to you.

And this time, you'll succeed. You lie down and close your eyes to sleep. And for the first time you feel soothed. Because even if this Ghostface is the devil himself... You have an angel to protect yourself.  

And his name is Jed Olsen.

***

(Well, it’s done! To be honest I didn't think I'd get here, I thought I was going to get tired but finally I want to continue to the end even though I know that one day I'm going to confront this problem of the blank page ... But hey I'll cross my fingers so that it happens as late as possible! See ya!)

[jadekitty777]

Forget-Me-Not

Alright, and for my final entry for the Shipwreckedfanzine (Read it here!), is my Taiqrow entry. Because you better believe I gave my boys some love.

(P.S. This showed up nowhere in the tags - I actually posted up a new Taiqrow fic yesterday as well - I would suggest checking out some of my newest works on Ao3!)

Rating: K

Pairing: Qrow/Taiyang

Word Count: 2.1k

Ao3 Link: Forget-Me-Not

Summary:  Tai’s not surprised to discover Qrow’s forgotten their anniversary… again.

❀~❀~❀~❀~❀~❀~❀

Tai hummed a jolly little tune as he shook the can of whipped cream, doing his best to keep his hand steady as he pointed the nozzle down and drew a heart shape on top of the stack of pancakes. Once he’d completed the point, he set the can aside and picked up the bowl of strawberry sauce, filling the inside of the heart generously. Next came the chocolate chips – he was just placing the first few down when his twelve-year-old warned:

“Dad, Uncle Qrow’s coming!”

He nodded, trying not to hurry too much and ruin all his hard work. “Thank you, Yang.  Would you girls get him seated please?”

“I got it!” Ruby shouted a mite too shrilly for this time of the morning.

In the corner of his eye, he watched her grab the butter knife and napkin before going to stand at the threshold. She quickly laid the napkin out along her arm to mimic a towel only the poshest of restaurant waiters had and rose the knife under her nose, clearing her throat a few times. As her uncle made it to the door, she said as classily as possible, “Mr. Branwen, we’ve been expecting you.”

“Is that so?” Qrow’s voice was still a bit gravelly from sleep but it didn’t quite hide his confused amusement.

“Indeed. We have a special reserved spot just for you.” She twirled on her heels. “Follow me please!” She marched with purpose the three single steps it took to get to his chair, having to lower her fake mustache so she could pull it out for him.

He sat, eyeing the mug already there. “Wow, coffee’s already made? Now that’s some express service.”

“Sir, we only provide the best for our customers.” Ruby told him, knife mustache back in place. “Your meal is also on the way, made by our finest chef in the business.”

More like the only chef, Tai thought as he placed the finishing touches on the arrow he’d been designing. He surveyed his work with an appraising eye, before lifting the plate and carrying it over with care. “Your meal, sir.” He told him grandly, placing it down before him.

Qrow took one look at it, then his head shot up, eyes wide. “What occasion is it?”

He smiled as forgivingly as he could. “Anniversary.” Their third, in fact – which Qrow had systematically forgotten each year. Having grown up on the outskirts of nowhere, he’d always been terrible with dates. Before his husband could speak, the guilty look already telling him exactly what he was going to say, Tai placed two fingers on his lips. “No apologies. Just enjoy.”

He heaved a sigh through his nose, before kissing his fingertips and murmuring against them, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He replied, all too happy to trade his hand in for his lips – much to his daughters’ very verbal noises of disgust.

“Dad, please. I’d like to finish my breakfast.” Yang’s nose was wrinkled up like a little piglet’s.

Tai couldn’t help but pinch it as he walked on by. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, before turning her attention to the other adult in the room, looking almost gleefully predatory. “Soooo, Uncle Qrow.”

“Yeah firecracker?” Qrow had his cutlery poised in the air, uncertain on where to start.

“If you want to make it up to dad, I know the perfect gift you can get him.”

As he placed the dirty mixing bowl in the sink, Tai snorted softly. Oh, this oughta be good.

“Yeah?” His husband arched a skeptic eyebrow. “What’s that?”

She cleared her throat and straightened up her shoulders like a businesswoman about to give a rousing proposal. “Well, I heard, and this is just you know from the people in the know, you know? But I heard the Battle Expansion pack for Grimm Raider’s 2 hit the shelves this week.”

“Uh-huh.” Qrow was trying to keep a straight face. “And Tai would want that?”

“Yes!” Ruby jumped in with certainty. “Because what better gift for a dad than the joy on his children’s faces?”

In perfect sync, both girls placed their fingers on the ends of their mouths and pulled them upwards into big smiles.

Tai was full-blown laughing now. Little weasels!

“Been planning that one awhile now, haven’t you?” Qrow said, not fooled in the slightest.

Yang gasped in mock-offense, placing her hand to her chest. “Uncle are you accusing me of taking advantage of your forgetfulness for my own gain? Can you believe this Ruby?”

“But, didn’t we plan it?” She stage-whispered.

“Sssh, he’s not supposed to know that!”

Before this clown show could go on any further, Tai decided to interject, “Alright, alright, that’s enough you two.” He dropped the rest of the dishes in to be soaked before rounding back to the table. “You know what would bring me great joy today? You two finishing your breakfast and getting ready for school.” He reached out to messily ruffle their hair, enjoying their cries of annoyance and futile swats. “And anyways, you uncle gives me the greatest gift every day.”

“What’s that?” Ruby asked.

Tai met rusty red eyes across the table. “His love.”

Qrow flushed a rosy pink, looking away with a smile. It was adorable, the way simple little things like that could still make him so bashful.

Yang looked between them. “Well, you could have that and the battle expansion pack.”

“Nice try.”

The rest of breakfast went without preamble, Tai shooing the girls off to get ready while he took care of the dishes. It really could have been just like any other morning. The fact it wasn’t supposed to be lingered like a thorn in the back of his head that he did his best to ignore.

Another plate was placed on the counter, and he reached for it without thought, only to have his hand caught by a paler one. Fingers threaded through his own as Qrow’s arm came around his waist, his body melding against his side.

“Dinner? My treat?” He offered, gentle like the mouse that tried to pull the thorn from the lion’s paw.

Tai pressed their foreheads together, murmuring, “I’d like that.”

❀~❀~❀~❀~❀~❀~❀

Signal’s campus was pretty barren so early in the morning. While the faculty members were slowly making their way to their classrooms to get ready for the day, the halls wouldn’t be filled with the bustle and yells of the students for another half hour or so. Qrow had come to appreciate the quiet and calm, because he knew once the bell rang, it would be eight solid hours of chaos.

As they headed through the front doors, Yang sped ahead, waving as she did. “I’m heading to the training gym! Bye!”

“Ah, Yang-” Tai started to object, but she was already cutting around the corner. “Annnd there she goes.” His attention turned downward when his other daughter yanked at his wrist. “Yes Ruby?”

“Can I go to the library today?” She asked hopefully.

“You don’t want to help your old man set up?”

Qrow casually stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Ah, let her go. Kiddo’s got a big brain that needs feeding, ain’t that right?” He winked her way, making her giggle.

“Alright, go on then.” Tai nudged her forward. “And stay in the kids’ section, okay?”

“I will!” Ruby promised before scurrying off.

They headed in the opposite direction, towards their classrooms. Qrow side-eyed the man he’d had the pleasure of calling his husband for three years now. “So, where do you want to go tonight?”

“You even have to ask?” Tai teased.

“Well, maybe you were feeling creative for once.” He jabbed back, dodging away when the other tried to push him.

“Don’t make it sound like you don’t love Sarubia’s.”

Of course he did. While they’d both settled readily in Patch’s more remote, country-like society, and there was much Qrow especially hadn’t minded leaving behind, there were still occasions in which they missed Anima. So, Sarubia’s more eastern inspired menu was like a little taste of home for both of them.

“Guess I can’t argue.” He shrugged, their pace slowing as they approached Tai’s classroom. His heart rate started to pick up. “You know, it’s funny.  I was thinking about Anima just the other day.”

“Oh?” Tai’s keys jangled as he tried to unlock the door.

He rocked on his heels. “Yeah. I was thinking how nice it would be to bring a piece of it back home.”

“Heh, like what?” The door opened and Tai flipped on the lights. He took one step inside.

Then froze.

He swallowed down his nerves. “Perhaps, maybe, some Firelight Sunflowers?”

In the space between Tai’s body and where his arm was extended, hand not having left the doorknob yet, Qrow was proud to see the three sunflower saplings hadn’t wilted entirely overnight. Despite their droopiness, they were still thriving enough to see the curling, yellow petal tips that transitioned into a vibrant display of red that took up the majority of the bloom and gave them their name.

“Oh, Qrow.” Tai breathed. “You…” He trailed off, too overcome to find the words.

A relieved sigh left him as the tension Qrow’d felt the entire morning leading up to this moment flowed off of himself all at once. Between the knowledge that pretending to forget yet again could go horrendously wrong and the uncertainty whether the gift was even meaningful enough to warrant it, he’d barely been able to hold it together. Saying nothing of the weeks he’d spent nurturing the plants in secrecy or the bribery he had to give his nieces to ensure they’d be alone this morning.

Yet, any doubts he may have had were washed away by his husband’s response. The way Tai said his name was with such love, that Qrow felt it in his own heart and it burst back out of him in soft words: “Happy anniversary, sunshine.”

He finally moved, turning to face him. “I-I can’t believe - How did you find them?”

“That last mission I went on took me through lower Anima. I uh, may have detoured a bit.”

It hadn’t been any small challenge to find the specific species. They were an extremely rare variety which only grew in the southern meadows of Anima. He’d never actually seen them before, as the tribe never migrated that far down, but he knew they could be found only miles away from a little, obscure settlement known as Shén-Guāng. The community there was founded on extremely strict and religious practices, whose citizens’ bowed to the teachings of the God of Light and gripped so tightly onto every inch of its populace’s way of life, that even just hearing about it left Qrow feeling stir crazy.

The only reason he even knew of the little town at all was because when Tai was feeling particularly nostalgic, he’d sometimes share outlandish tales about his childhood. The one he never quite forgot was the story he’d told him during their second year at Beacon.

(“For my last test, Master Jinsei put a blindfold around my eyes. His semblance was the ability to tie an undoable knot – so there was no getting it off. He told me to use all the skills I had learned to go out and bring back a Firelight Sunflower.”

“A flower? You’re kidding right?”

“Don’t make it sound so easy. It was December. They weren’t even in bloom yet.”

“Oh, come off it. Now you really are making things up.”

“I’m not! The lesson isn’t just to find a flower blind. It’s about staying aware of your surroundings. Listening to the wildlife that will tell you of predators and Grimm. Having patience and fortitude through the winter. Most people give up a few days in.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Because only those who pass that test are allowed to leave the village. You know, they say sunflowers mean all sorts of things. Like happiness or loyalty. But to me, I’ve always seen them as a symbol of freedom. So, when I finally brought one back, that’s what I felt I held in my hand.”

“… Yeah. Okay. I get that. Still, why put yourself through all that? Why not just go out on your own?”

“Hah! Maybe I would have, if I knew someone like you back then.”

“Well, you know me now. Was it worth it?”

Tai’s smile-)

-was bright and warm, and left Qrow’s knees feeling weak. His hand was calloused from training and work in the garden, yet the touch remained tender as it cupped his cheek. As they lent in towards one another, Tai whispered against his lips, “I love you.”

“Me too.” He whispered back.

Their eyes slipped shut as they kissed, and as an arm encircled his waist, Qrow rose his own to wind around Tai’s shoulders, one hand leafing through the short blond hairs along the back of his head. For a moment, that’s all they were: A soft and gentle caress of lips contrasting the strength in the way they held each other, neither ever intending to let go.

Even when they pulled back, they didn’t fully loosen their grip. Tai dropped a smaller, affectionate peck on the tip of his nose. “Thank you.”

“Glad you like them.” He peered over his husband’s shoulder, seeing a petal falling onto the desk. “Though, sorry they look kinda pathetic. Don’t exactly have your green thumb.”

With unshakeable certainty, he replied, “No. They’re perfect. Like you.”

“Uh.” Qrow spared the dying flowers a judgmental eye. “You know, you’re not usually this bad at compliments.”

“Ut-! Haha, sorry, sorry. Not what I meant!” He could feel the rumble of Tai’s laughter where their chests still touched. “It’s just, do you know what love and flowers have in common?”

“…Lovers’ Day?”

Tai shook his head. “They both regrow.” He reached up, cupping his hand around the one Qrow had rested on his collar, brushing a thumb over his wedding ring. “And though it takes a lot of work, with the right nurturing and care, eventually something strong and beautiful will blossom.”

Shock left his eyes widening and his jaw slackening.

When he’d chosen to plant three of the sunflowers, it was only because it was the same number of years as their anniversary. Now though, the other third he was in Tai’s life danced briefly through his head. On his worst days, the ones where he felt his most insecure, it was a fact that tormented him like a plague left to fester in his mind and was only treatable with a heavy dose of reassurance and comfort from his husband. But today, Tai’s words acted like a vaccine, abolishing the thoughts before they even could be.

Instead, Qrow was content and so light, he swore he could fly without wings. But more than that, he felt like he was falling in love all over again.

He buried his face into Tai’s neck, hiding the smile that he just knew was ridiculously large and goofy. “You know what? You’re right. But I’ll do you one better. We’re perfect.”

Tai’s fingers threaded through his own. “Yeah. We really are.”

[free-pool-trash]

Jealous Free! Boys (Pt.1)

Requested by anon: Hi your headcanons are superb! Can I ask for jealous scenarios for our Starting Days boys Haru, Makoto, Asahi and Ikuya + Natsuya? Thank you yo!

Requested by @pristinehaven : Hi! Can i get some jealousy headcanons for Asahi,Natsuya and Ikuya with a fem s!o. Like how often do they get jealous and what are the things that tik them off. And how do they handle their partner if they get jealous. Thank you!

Requested by anon: the iwatobi boys + rin, nitori, seijuro, momo’s reaction to someone flirting with their s/o?

Oml these should be fun 😂 thanks for these requests hope you all enjoy 💞 part 2 with request number 3 coming soon ❤️

Masterlist

Haru:

He doesn't really get jealous often

He trusts you completely

it's the guys that flirt with you he's got the problem with and the fact that you're too sweet to notice they're trying to make a pass at you

The first time Haru gets like this you honestly had a hard time comprehending what happened

Haru had brought you to an aquarium on a date and while you were looking at the Dolphins a guy around your age approached you both

He was wearing a staff uniform and starting talking to you and Haru about the types of dolphins they had

At first him and Haru were the only ones talking, Haru being interested in the Dolphins

But eventually the guys attention turned to you and you didn't really notice the shift in the way this guy spoke but Haru definitely did

The way the guy looked you up and down certainly did not sit well with Haru either

He humored the guy for a few minutes since he was just talking but the minute the guy starts to get flirty Haru gets fed up

He narrowed his eyes at the guy, looking between him and you

You didn't look at all interested in what he was saying but you were being polite and listening anyways, completely unaware of the flirtation

“Y'know, there's this really good restaurant just a little bit away from here, maybe you'd wanna-” the guy began to say before Haru cut him off

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and nodded at the guy, his expression completely blank

“Now that you've mentioned it, I'm actually pretty hungry, what about you babe?”

looking up to him you smiled “I could eat.”

Haru looked at the guy gesturing his free hand to you, “We better get going. Thanks for the recommendation.”

Haru keeps physical contact with you for the rest of the day, an arm around your shoulders or his hand holding yours

It's easy to tell when he's jealous because he gets extra quiet and extra possessive

When you get jealous he thinks it's kinda funny

He isn't as oblivious to flirting as you so when random girls stroll up he knows not to entertain them too much

You get all huffy and glary

You hold his hand and make sure it's seen

Pretending you don't care but getting increasingly frustrated when the girls don't back off

like hunny he clearly is not interested

He makes sure to give you extra attention for the rest of the day

you're so cute to him when you're jealous

Makoto:

Very rarely shows his jealousy

but he does still get jealous he just tries not to show it because he trusts you 100%

Sometimes though if guys try take advantage of your kindness he's right there to shut that shit down

One time you were waiting for Makoto to finish his class, since you were planning to go for lunch after

You were waiting on a bench on campus when a student approached you

“Hey, are you new?” He asked you, he seemed nice

“No I'm just waiting for somebody.” You told him politely, not really feeling like conversing with the stranger

You just wanted to see your boyfriend

“Yeah, I definitely would've remembered seeing such a pretty face around.”

At that moment Makoto had started to approach, noticing it was one of the campuses many players who was trying to chat you up

he also noticed how flushed and uncomfortable you looked/

“Hey, (N/n). Sorry, have you been waiting long?” He cut the dude right off

You perked up straight away like he knew you would

“Oh good you're finished!”

And that's pretty much all it took for Makoto to get your full attention

“Ah, Tachibana! Is this lovely lady a friend of yours?” The guy asked and Makoto watched as you gave him an awkward smile

“Yeah actually she's my-”

”Cool, anyways-” he just completely cut Makoto off and he was trying his hardest not to blow a fuse

“-how about you guys take a raincheck, and you and me get to know each oth-”

cut off central

Makoto sighed in frustration as he intertwined his hand with yours and pulled you to your feet

“Sorry but myself and my girlfriend, need to be going. Have a good day!” And with that he struts off, your hand held tightly in his

He'll quietly grumble to himself and you can't help but giggle at him everytime

When you get jealous on the other hand you're a lot more passive aggressive than sweet boy Makoto

He's too nice to tell girls he isn't interested so sometimes when they get a little too ballsy you gotta step in

He loves when you do though

Because your so protective but you're never mean and he just thinks he's so lucky to have you

It's a mutual thing between you that if one of you is jealous you'll intertwine your hands together and even after the jealousy is over you keep hold on each other

Asahi:

Subtly? We don't know them

Possessive baby

Listen here's the thing he's not threatened by any guys who stare at you because hey he has a gorgeous girlfriend he knows

It's when guys he doesn't know try chatting you up

God he's so extra

You were sitting at the bar of his sister's restaurant and he was behind the bar holding Tsukushi while his sister was out

You were giggling at your boyfriend and his nephew when you saw someone sit beside you at the bar and out of reflex you turned and gave the guy a polite smile

”Asa do you want me to hold him while you take this guys order?” You giggled watching him try and multitask

“Sure!” He handed the giggling little boy to you as you cooed at him

Tsukushi looooooves you

You sat with him cooing and giving him little butterfly kisses all over his face giggling with him while Asahi went to take the guys order

“What can I get you?” he asked but the guy didn't answer as he his attention was fixated on you and the baby who was squishing your cheeks with his hands

Asahi rolled his eyes and cleared his throat loudly “excuse me, can I help you?” He asked again and the guy looked his direction

“Coffee.”

He didn't even say please just went straight back to looking at you

Asahi rolled his eyes again and got to work in making the rude guy his coffee listening while he pathetically tried to flirt you up

“Hey.. you're really good with kids, huh?”

“Mhm” you knew what he was up to but you were having too much fun with Tsu to care too much

“We have the best time don't we Tsu?” You cooed at him as he giggled and threw his hands up in the air

“You'd look really good with a kid of your own.”

Ok this guy was definitely not so subtle himself but not to worry

Asahi set the guys coffee down in front of him and made his way around the bar to you

“Yeah she would, wouldn't she?” He said wrapping his arms around your shoulders and peppering kisses all over the side of your neck as you laughed

“A boy and a girl-” he then turned towards the guy again with a wide close eyed smile “whaddaya think?”

“Uh, um, sure yeah…”

And you'd never seen someone down a coffee so fast

You pretty much do the same when someone is flirting with him

stroll up to his side and slide into a hug and he always always always greets you with a kiss so that's pretty much all it takes

you're both pretty calm with flirts because you both know your each other's number ones

Ikuya:

Lmao get the fuck away

Don't even T R Y

He doesn't care who it is like no feelings are spared, especially it they're cocky about it

You two were out shopping one time and he was just kinda following behind you because he didn't really have much of an input

you looked pretty in everything you buy

But you were trying to choose between two really pretty dresses and asked Ikuya what he thought on which one you should buy

“They’re both really nice, but maybe the light blue one?” He suggested knowing you probably needed an actual answer and the blue dress was really cute

but then/ this guy chimes in

“Actually the pink one would compliment your skin tone more, not to mention bring out the colour of those pretty eyes”

You weren’t stupid but you figured he was a shop assistant or something tryna get a raise

Ikuya was not having it

“She likes the blue.”

You had to thank Ikuya for stepping in because as nice as this guy was trying to be he was making you a little uncomfortable

“He's right I do like the blue, but thank you anyway.”

The guy looked Ikuya up and down and gave him the dirtiest look then back at you

“But with this dresses length and your legs it'd look so se-”

Ikuya wrapped his arm around around your waist took the pink dress from you and hung it back on the rail and looked the perverted guy right in the eye

“Listen man, she's not interested.”

Ikuya bought you the blue dress and didn't let go of your waist the entire day

 When you get jealous on the other hand you tend to beat around the bush a little

“come on babe we're gonna be late” or if you're just walking up to him and some girl is already batting her eyelashes at him you strut up behind him and wrap your arms around his middle

He secretly lives for when you do it and you know it

And just like that all of his attention is immediately back to you

Generally you guys never get too antsy when it comes to flirting but it does tic you both off

Natsuya:

Okay you both have two types of jealousy

Sober jealousy and drunk jealousy

let's start with sober

He's fairly tame in these situations, obviously doesn't like dudes chatting up his girl but he usually just gives you a kiss on the cheek and says something like “We better get going, baby, wouldn't wanna be late.” He might even throw in a subtle wink in your direction for good measure

Very casually throws an arm around your shoulder

Same with you, it's all very mature with maybe a tiny hint of passive aggression

Now onto the more common form of your jealousies/ the drunk kind

So one night he was supposed to be meeting you at your favorite bar a bar he'd never been to before

When he got there he saw you sitting at the bar chatting to the bar tender that you knew from college

He greeted you with a kiss and then the two of you started to drink

After a few too many beers the bar tender came back over and Natsuya SWEARS he was checking you out

“I think someone's had a liiiiiittle too much.” The bar tended teased you causing you to giggle and Natsuya to pout

“(Y/nnnnnnnnn)...” he whined

“Babbbbbbbby.” you responded back with a hazy smile

AND BAM

He's kissing you hard with one eye open and glaring at the bar tender/

“What was that for?” You giggled out at him with your hands lazily in his hair

He smiled at you with droopy eyes “You're all mine”

“Mhm, kiss me again” you're both just two drunken giggling messes

Okay with drunk you it's a little more innocent

If some girl is taking up too much of his attention you get a little antsy

“Natsu…” You tug on his sleeve

“Yeah?” He gets a little confused seeing your pout

“Hi” you give him a smile and wrap your arms around him

“hey” he smiles back wrapping his arms back around you and whoever he was talking too has moved away

You're a snuggly jealous drunk and he's a possessive jealous drunk

it works

[biaseveryonenoregrets]

An Apple a Day Doesn’t Keep the Med Student Away-Huang Renjun (College AU)

A/N: Hi, so...I guess I’m trying this again, instead of our unfamous Y/N however I’ll be using my beautiful friends my kakao chats names so maybe you share their name maybe you don’t hopefully you all can still enjoy. This one goes to my bb @aiurjins​ who also posts some really great content  so y’all should check that out. Hopefully this doesn’t suck as it’s been 10 years it feels since I’ve written and I don’t know where this is going, but it’s a beginning. :))

Teri’s P.O.V: College was supposed to be the best days of my life, but freshmen year was already kicking my ass and I really needed a break, but we were only two days in.

“Teri!” A familiar voice called out.

“Hey, Celina.”

“You look like absolute shit, but hey, you know how you said you owed me a favor??”

“No I don’t.” I sighed.

“Well you most certainly did as I let you take the bottom bunk in the dorm even though I got their first an-”

“Okay, okay, what favor?”

“Double blind date. Saturday.”

My first day off to do stuff I needed to and she wanted to go on a blind date.

“Celina...it’s our first weekend as actual students...why are you rushing the whole dating thing.”

“Hey, hey, hey. I don’t want to go alone, and the guy setting us up is that cutie in my Psych 101 Na Jaemin so his friends can’t be unattractive so he set me up and said he could set you up too. Please say yes!”

“I don’t know-”

“Nope, this is the favor. Saturday at seven, you better look decent and not like a homeless person who had one to many shots of espresso this morning.” She waved and ran off.

I need her energy, and I probably need more espresso anyways.

Renjun’s P.O.V:

“A blind date?”

“Yeah, Jaemin said he got me set up, but the girl doesn’t want to go alone so he asked me if I knew anyone and then we both went...oh...Renjun is single and lonely...so now you have to come...if not for you then for me.”

“I don’t know Lucas, the semester just begun and I already have quizzes to study for for three different science courses.”

“I am asking for one night. Just one...unless...” The tall socialite wagged his eyebrows, “She’s cute and you can spare a few more?”

“One date, and you owe me a drink as well.”

“Deal, I’ll let Jaemin know and be sure to look nice and smell good, girls dig that I think.” He ran off to who knows where and I felt my own feet continue to drag to microbiology.

“Maybe a date wouldn’t hurt.” I convinced myself.

~Saturday because who wants a dragged out prologue~

Lucas insisted we arrive half an hour early, and that’s when I realized he was genuinely excited about meeting...whoever it was we were meeting.

“Her name is Celina.” He said, “And her friend is Teri. Behave and smile, you look intimidating when you’re all serious.”

“What if I don’t know what to say?”

“Ask for help in Chinese and I’ll butt in. Just don’t mess up my date.”

This was going to be a very long night if he kept this up.

Teri’s P.O.V:

“I look ridiculous, this is ridiculous, you can date on your own.”

“In this world, I think not.” Celina scoffed, “It’s safer this way, for both of us.”

We got to the restaurant, a little corner place right off campus, also filled it seemed with couples. Celina led us in and gave Jaemin’s name, he really pulled all the strings setting this up I thought. We were led through the building and up to the second floor and to a corner table where two backs faced us.

“Lucas, right?” Celina smiled first, and the taller of the two stood and reached out his hand.

“That would be me, Celina right? This is my friend Renjun, sorry if he looks a little dead on the inside, he’s taking a full load of pre-med classes.”

“No worries, we’ll try to be exciting, this is my friend Teri, she’s a bit on the shy side, but really cool.”

My roommate of a little over a week was talking it up like we’d known each other a lot longer, but it seemed to be working for her and Lucas who really were already entertaining each other. We both sat down across from them and I took the chance to look at the boy across from me. Renjun, pre-med. He did have some dark circles and he was still smiling a bit while listening to the continuous jokes streaming from Lucas. He then looked to me and a brief moment of eye contact sent me looking just about anywhere else in the room. He was cute, at least, at least I could appreciate looking at him as a distraction from the fact I wasn’t doing any of the work I should be doing.

“What’s your major?” Renjun spoke up asking me as Celina and Lucas forgot the two friends they brought along.

“Oh...uh...psychology...but...I’m not sure about it.”

He nodded at that, “I feel that.”

“Really...you’re pre-med?”

“Yeah, but I overthink so I’m sure if that’s a good quality for a doctor.” He laughed a bit, but it sounded empty.

“I get it, I enjoy writing and want to major in a field that can teach me more and give me more opportunities there...but my family...”

“Same here, I just want to make them happy, so, I just have a lot of studying to do and confidence to build.”

“Oh, is that why you said yes to the blind date? Confidence booster?” I pried.

“What? No! No, no, no. No.” His ears turned pink and he waved his hands, “I came to help this guy, but I don’t think he really needs me.”

“Same here, I was kidding, you don’t come off the type to use this setting to your advantage. My humor is kind of dry I guess.”

“You’re fine...want to go somewhere else...I don’t know if you looked at the menu but I know plenty of better places?”

I glanced at Celina who had eyes only on Lucas anyways.

“I’d really like that.”

At least I hope I really liked that, and maybe even he would like that too.

[justsomekpopstuff]

Protest (Youngbin College!AU)

Requested by @jin-hua

Pairing: Youngbin x Reader

MASTERLIST: to find it, just look up “justsomekpopstuff masterlist” on my blog, since external links still are not fixed. It should be in there. Sorry about the inconvenience!

student: Kim Youngbin

major: political science

Youngbin from his freshmen yeah was considered a natural-born leader

and obviously he therefore became considered the “leader” of the campus

he was voted student body president his sophomore year

so clearly everyone thinks he is more than capable enough as a leader

he helps out every year at freshman orientation because he knows how scary it can be to move up to college

he wants to make sure all the lil freshmen coming in don’t freak out too much

recruited both Inseong and Dawon  to help out as well because they definitely have the personality to make the younger ones feel welcome

also called the “campus dad” due to his dad-like personality

can and will take care of every single person on campus that is younger than him

they are his children

he must protect

due to his leadership and public speaking skills, he obviously chose political science as his major

president of the debate team on campus

already has an internship lined up for him after graduation too

because of all this, he is a very big rule follower

he likes doing things by the book and keeping things in order

however, even he had to admit that there were certain things about the way the campus was run that he still didn’t like

but because he didn’t want to compromise his position or disrespect the dean of the campus

that was, of course, until he met

he was in his dorm when he got a call from the Dean of Student Affairs

the Dean told him that there was a person standing in front of the student union holding up a sign “Education is corrupt, reform NOW” 

the Dean asked him then to talk to the student and get them to leave peacefully because they were being a ��disturbance”

he really couldn’t say no to them, so he sighed and accepted, closing his notes and leaving his dorm

as he walked over to the student union where this student was, he thought to himself

he thought...maybe....he didn’t really want to stop them

he wasn’t really a fan of how the education takes advantage of its students with very little reward

and after all, you had a right to protest and make your opinion known as a student

so who was he to tell you to stand down?

he made his way to the student union to see you, standing there very stoic by the entrance with your sign in hand, just like the dean had said

you looked so strong and confident, Youngbin could hear his heart begin to beat in his ears

he walked up to you sheepishly, hands hidden in his pockets which was very different from his usual professional-looking demeanor to stand in front of you

“So...hi...the Dean of Student Affairs asked me to see if you would be willing to stand down...maybe?” he asked quietly

“No”

your response had made his heart beat even faster

you responded so quickly and with such power that he barely had time to think of a response

“Um...may I ask why...you’re doing this?”

“Isn’t it obvious,” you asked him with a slightly sarcastic tone. “The university is demanding more from its students than it is returning. They say they are preparing us for the future and yet give us nothing in return. There is no assurance that what we do here is going to bring us any kind of luck in the real world. On top of that, most students are being forced to pay more money and take more credits than they can handle leaving thim exhausted and in debt, and yet the university just keeps asking for more. It is time for that to change. Education should not come at the cost of mental and monetary exhaustion. That’s just the facts”

Youngbin definitely knew you had a point, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he didn’t agree with you

you were proud and true to your word

you definitely had guts, and to be honest, stopping you was now the last thing that he wanted to do

however, he did make a commitment to the dean

so one last try was needed

“have you...tried talking to the dean...maybe?”

“i’ve tried to contact the dean every semester about changing the policy, and I have been ignored and blown off every single time. I’m done with not being listened to. Its time things changed, and I don’t care how long I have to stand out here until something does.”

“...Okay.”

Youngbin looked to your feet and saw extra signs sitting there, most likely made for other students that wished to join

he grabbed one that said something similar to yours and stood next to you quietly

“...What are you doing?” you asked

“Joining you. You have a good point, and I agree. And, if you cant beat them, join them”

“...aren’t you like, the head of student affairs or something?”

“your point being?” he looked at you with a questioning look on his face.

“...okay...”

the two of you stood there in confident silence, getting some looks from other students and faculty that passed by

that was, until an hour later when the campus police showed up and dragged the two of you to the dean of student affairs’ office

you two sat there in the uncomfortable chairs as the dean stared the two of you down with an angry look

the dean lectured the two of you for what felt like hours, talking about how inappropriate your actions were, and how they were especially disappointed in Youngbin, who was the leader of the campus

you honestly felt like you both were going to be suspended at the least

however, thankfully due to Youngbin’s position and good graces, the two of you were only sentenced to doing a work study in the student food court for two months, starting right after the both of you ended classes

the reasoning?

“maybe being an actual part of this campus will straighten you out”

you rolled your eyes once you were out of the office, but you had to admit you were glad you were not expelled

you were about to turn to Youngbin to talk to him when you heard the dean call him back into the office

you gave him a sorrowful look, and he gave you a look in return that told you he would be fine

you only hoped he was right

not wanting to be there for the aftermath, you went back to your dorm to get some rest before you had to start your sentence

the next day after your classes, you made your way to the restaurant you were assigned to work at

you met with the grumpy and tired looking manager as they gave you a rushed run through of the cafe, throwing an apron and hat at you before sticking you in front of a sink full of dishes

you sighed, knowing that you would be seeing this view for a while, and got to work

your silent labor, however, would be cut short because about an hour later, Youngbin was shoved in right next to you

“good to see you aren’t dead” you joked as he got to work on the other big stack of dishes 

“yeah, but I did get an extra earful of ‘you should be ashamed - a man of your position on campus?’ blah, blah, blah...” he trailed off as you chuckled

“well, you are their golden boy. They expect more from you than to ‘disobey the order’” 

“yeah, well sometimes the order needs to be changed. You said it yourself. Change has to happen eventually for the betterment of the campus. Sometimes it just takes on person to stand out”

“So what ended up happening?”

“Oh yeah they kicked me out of ASI for the rest of the semester”

you stopped and looked at him, feeling guilty that you had caused him to lose his position

“I am so sorry, this is all my fault...”

“I don’t regret it for a single second...and hey, they didn’t say anything about me re-running next semester” he smiled at you

“You sure this won’t like, throw your entire future out the window?”

“Even if it does, I still wouldn’t change a thing”

the two of you smiled at each other and got back to washing the dishes in a comfortable silence

It was pitch dark out by the time the two of you finished your work and were allowed to clock out

you were exhausted from standing all day and all you wanted to do was go back to your dorm and sleep for days - even though you had to repeat the same thing tomorrow

“Hey, its dark out, maybe I should accompany you back to your dorm?” Youngbin asked you

“If you want,” you replied

the two of you walked in silence again to the dorms, taking in the cool night air

“So, I was thinking...” Youngbin started as you began to near the buildings

“What?”

“I think you’re pretty cool, and you have a lot of good ideas...I’m interested in getting to know you some more...so maybe tomorrow, once we are done with our shift, we could, I don’t know...grab a late-night bite to eat? If you want...”

you chuckled as he slowly and awkwardly got his words out

“I would love to,” you smiled at him as the two of you reached your building’s doors

“Great,” Youngbin smiled at you. “It’s a date.”

“It certainly is”

needless to say, that night was the beginning of a very bright future for the two of you

Youngbin as a boyfriend is honestly a dream

like

he knows how to treat you RIGHT

he knows that you are passionate about respect and being treated as an equal

and he takes that into account regularly in your relationship, asking for your opinion on things and making sure he knows where your boundaries are

he trusts that you know how to take care of yourself

but there are still times when he will pamper you and take care of you

he also knows that if anyone wrongs him, you will have his back

and the person who wronged him will have to face your wrath

which is very comforting to him that he has a kick-ass s/o who can stand up for themselves

you and the boys lead the protest to get Youngbin back into ASI as the president

there’s flyers and banners and protests involved

and honestly he could feel the heart eyes intensifying

you found out that he had almost lost his internship due to the whole ASI thing

and you felt so guilty that you went down to the place to make a case for him 

needless to say they are now hiring both of you right after graduation

speaking of the boys

you become parent number 2 to the ragtag group

you make sure that they are being treated well and taking care of themselves

Youngbin also enlists your help to take care of the incoming freshman and make sure that they transition without too much trouble

you are essentially the campus power couple

and you wouldn’t have it any other way

[chloemill]

On what I’ve been up to the last nine years

I have always been obsessed with food. It seems silly, honestly, to be obsessed with something that’s a basic human necessity. Food, water, shelter. Too bad there aren’t water disorders or I’d be all over that. Alcoholism, I guess, is a liquid-based disorder? This is getting dark quickly but I guess we should all know what we’re getting into with this one, shouldn’t we.

So, yeah, I’ve always been obsessed with food. I have alarmingly clear memories of food from childhood, and the sad(dest) part is most of it’s not even real fucking food, it’s like, cartoon food. I could probably describe every illustration from the Berenstain Bears installment where the dad bear and the kid bears randomly decide to go balls to the fucking wall and just mainline junk food until the mom bear is like “what the fuck is going on here” and gives them all apples or some shit and then everyone chills the fuck out. The pizza in A Goofy Movie when Goofy and Max randomly stop at a themed motel and the kids eat pizza while Goofy and Pete share what I remember to be a vaguely sexual moment in the hot tub? (There was definitely at LEAST a questionable power dynamic at play.) The kid at school whose weird helicopter mom came at lunch and hand-delivered her McDonald’s nuggets to the playground. Bake sales in the second grade - the cookies and brownies and “nachos” that were just round Tostitos with that terrifying and delicious fake cheese sauce that still honestly casts a spell twenty years later. It wasn’t quite normal, but as a kid, I didn’t think twice. When your parents are feeding you and your brain is the size of a baseball, you just kind of roll with the punches and settle for buying as much crap as possible at the bake sale with the two bucks your mom gave you. Shortly after I finished elementary school, actually, I think they stopped having bake sales as fundraisers because the school was trying to promote healthy eating. Go figure.

In high school we were allowed to go off campus for lunch and once or twice a week my sainted mother would give me money to buy lunch. It very rapidly became the bi-weekly Let’s See How Much Shit We Can Stuff In Our Body For Ten Dollars Challenge, but that’s not at all uncommon for high schoolers. At home we ate healthily, and I have a pretty fast metabolism thanks to my Slenderman of a father so I was more or less the size of a pencil for first few years of school. We’re talking, like, size double zero at Hollister. I actually used to peel the 00 size stickers off my low rise (!!!) jeans whenever I’d get a new pair and stick them on the side of my desk in my bedroom, which, as I became a normal-sized adult with not-normal-sized body image problems, morphed into a very creative form of self-inflicted psychological torment. I have some journal entries from the first few years of high school with “diet and workout plans”, but in teenage girl fashion, most of them were quickly forgotten about or amended with “forgot and ate mac and cheese today - whoops!” Stupid teenage shit. It’s actually kind of hilarious reading it back now until I remember how spectacularly fucked up everything got. ANYWAY!

My first real memory of hating my body was on a school trip to Scotland my junior year. I was fully indoctrinated into the cult of high school musical theatre and we were performing at the Fringe Festival in Edinburgh, which was an incredibly cool experience that I absolutely did NOT take full advantage of and instead did shit like drink way too much rum (fucking RUM because apparently I was a character in Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean franchise), try to climb out the window of the dorms we were staying in to go see my boyfriend in his building, quickly remember I was on like the fucking fourth floor, throw up all over the carpet of my room and then pass out. My room smelled like puke the rest of the trip but that, though tragic in its own right, is not the point of this anecdote. Being both across the pond and left to my own devices, I was eating nothing but beige-colored fried food to the point that I’m certain ketchup and fruit juice used solely as a mixer for alcohol were the only things saving me from full-blown scurvy. My clothes felt tight, and not in the 2010s way that everything was tight, but bad tight. My stomach poked out of my jeans in a way that my stomach wasn’t supposed to poke out of my jeans. Keep in mind - I was probably a size 0 instead of 00 at this point, and most of this change was just a product of being sixteen instead of fourteen and growing, but to me it felt ominous in a way I didn’t know how to explain. During a group trip to some Scottish landmark or another (see how much attention I paid to this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity my parents spent their hard-earned money to give me?) I remember sitting next to my close friend on the bus as we pulled over to stop for food. I was having relationship trouble with the aforementioned boyfriend, one of the first of many Musical Theatre Straight Boys™ that I would lose my fucking mind over, and I was getting emotional - more emotional than I expected. I realized something else was bothering me, and I turned to her and said “On top of everything else, I just feel… fat. I know I’m not fat, but I’m fat, like, for me.”

Two things here: first and foremost, yes, for that I know I am now the recipient of the Most Annoying Sentence Ever Spoken Aloud award and will provide the mailing address for my trophy at a later date. Second, I said that over ten years ago, and I remember it so clearly that I’m entirely sure that’s exactly what I said, verbatim. We got off the bus, and I walked into the restaurant and, after scanning the menu desperately trying to convince myself I should order something “healthy”, I ordered large steak fries and got back on the bus. I think this was the first time I ever really, consciously used food as a coping mechanism - the first time something small but powerful snapped in my head that told me fuck it - who the fuck cares? You’ve done enough damage already, what’s the point of stopping now?

High school ended, I graduated and we sang “Journey On” from Ragtime at the ceremony (baffling choice but the school was doing Ragtime next year and wanted to squeeze a promo out), I got into several of my top-choice musical theatre colleges and was so excited to go to the one I picked, which, you’ll be charmed to hear, was the absolute worst choice I could’ve made. I was 18 and a little bigger now, firmly in size 0/2 instead of 00 territory, had maybe graduated to a 32B bra instead of A, but still very thin by most standards. This was my first summer as a Very Online Person - I would stay up tlil probably 3 or 4 AM most nights blogging and watching Harry Potter movies for the umpteenth time. Because the rest of my family was, how do I put it, fucking normal, they’d go to bed at 11 or whenever and I’d be up alone for hours on the  computer. This is when I started bingeing. We didn’t really keep junk food in my house, nothing legit like Cheetos or Ben and Jerry’s or whatever, but we did have sugar cereal and reduced-fat Oreos and cheese and the occasional box of Triscuts. It became a nightly ritual for me - I’d wait for everyone to go to bed, then tiptoe in to the kitchen and, though I’d eaten dinner hours earlier, start eating again. Stacks of Oreos, multiple bowls of cereal, shredded cheese out of the bag. After a while my mom heard me banging around in the kitchen and told me (in so many words) to shut the fuck up, so my methods changed. I’d bring the box of cereal - Rice Krispies or Cocoa Puffs or whatever - a bowl, and a carton of milk into the bathroom with me. I’d run the sink and open the box and pour the cereal with the water running so no one would hear, and then I’d creep back out to the couch and eat it. Box of Oreos into the bathroom, water on, peel open the plastic, take out the biggest stack I thought I could with no one noticing, eat. Three or four granola bars into the bathroom, water on, wrappers off and hidden behind my bed or the couch or wherever, eat. Rinse and repeat.

I didn’t really know what binge eating was at this point, and some tiny, dark part of my brain buried way in the back told me that this wasn’t normal and it wasn’t good, but I pushed it away because of course I did. I did a few Google searches about it and came across the term “binge eating disorder” but was convinced that could never be me. This was just a thing, just a thing I was doing, and it would go away at the end of the summer when I went away to college because that’s when life was actually starting and it was going to be awesome and I wasn’t going to let this - whatever this was - fuck that up.

But I did, in fact, fuck it up. I fucked it up fast and hard (that’s what she said, ok back to being depressing) and college was not awesome, it was difficult and painful and I was drowning in something I had absolutely no chance of controlling on my own. I accepted very quickly that this thing I was doing had a name, and it was binge eating disorder, and I was all in. I gained weight - not a ton, maybe twenty pounds, and I was never actually overweight, but to me that didn’t matter. I hated how I looked. I overdrew my bank account spending money my mom gave me for groceries on binge food. I spent hours alone in the dining hall eating till I felt physically ill and sometimes threw up involuntarily because my body couldn’t handle what I was doing. One time I stood in the bathroom of my dorm and drank mustard mixed with warm water because I read online that makes you puke and I was so full I wanted to die (it didn’t work, please for the love of GOD don’t drink mustard water or, for that matter, anything else for the express purpose of making yourself vomit). I cancelled plans with friends and skipped classes to stay in and binge, or because I’d binged already that day and could barely move. I stole food from roommates, convincing myself no one would notice, even though of course they fucking noticed. I hid food and packaging and wrappers under my bed, in my closet, in my backpack, wherever I could because I didn’t want anyone to catch on. Lied about why I needed money so my parents would send me some and I could buy more shit. I ate stale food, food from the trash, once I literally ate straight up chocolate sauce (mustard water and chocolate sauce: 10 out of 10 doctors recommend!) because I had nothing else. Waking up for 8 AM ballet classes and seeing my body in a leotard under fluorescent lighting felt like a form of torture Dick Cheney might think was a little too harsh. I saw a therapist over the summers and ate with my parents at home, and things got better, and then I’d go back to school and everything would unravel again. I’m still kind of shocked I made it through.

I’ve been done with school and living in the city for five years now, and I can honestly say that things are better. I mean, not “better”, in the sense that this chapter of the book is still pretty fucking open. But I’m better at dealing with it. The majority of the time now, I eat normally. I still binge, sometimes a lot and sometimes a little, but I carry on and try again the next day. I don’t really restrict to make up for binges anymore. I can eat some foods now that used to send me straight into Eatin’ Town USA, like cheese and bread and maybe even Oreos sometimes. I started enjoying working out, not just logging time on the treadmill as a punishment and feeling like Jean Valjean in the opening number of Les Mis (look down look down you’RE HERE UNTIL YOU DI-IE). 

To be honest, I think I’m writing this mostly because the last couple months have been hard. I’ve fallen into some old stupid shitty habits, and I’ve been plugging along like normal and trying to claw myself out. But it’s not quite working like it normally does, and I don’t know why. I know I’ll make it through, because I always have, and what other option is there? But some days lately, I feel like twenty-year-old me, sobbing (very theatrically, natch) on the floor of my apartment because I should be over this by now - how am I not over this by now? This is my ninth year as a binge eater. Almost a decade! Far and away my longest and most committed relationship. When I hit 10 years strong, I should take myself out to a fancy restaurant or something but I don’t know what I’d order.

When I tell people this, I usually get some kind of “I had no idea”/“I’m sorry I didn’t notice”/“I would’ve never guessed” and the truth is that I didn’t, and still don’t, want anyone to notice. Of course I don’t. You don’t hide candy wrappers and empty pizza boxes in your closet with your winter boots because you want people to notice. It’s a very strange and secretive brand of shame that binge eating disorder brings and no one really get it unless they get it, and that’s not something I’d wish on anyone. (Okay, honestly, I’d wish it on some people, like it’s hard as hell but some people suck ass and probably deserve it? Anyway.) As I’ve grown up, I’ve started talking about this more and more. The first time I went public with all of this shit - I think I made a dramatic Instagram post a few years ago whilst day drunk during National Eating Disorder Awareness Week (absolutely incredible and Very Me start to a sentence) - I was shocked at how many people reached out to me privately and were like, hey, me too, and thank you for saying something. I’m still ashamed, but I’m trying not to be, and the more I talk about it the less alone I feel. “There are dozens of us! DOZENS!”

I guess one nice thing about this whole stupid nightmare is it’s kind of a reason why I am who I am. Not the only reason, but still. I started using jokes to cope with this while I was in school, and my sense of humor, whatever the fuck it is today, grew out of that. Except now I don’t joke about this stupid shit because I’m in denial, I do it because it’s real and I’m staring it in the face and it’s not going away, and the absurdity of something so excruciatingly difficult yet so entirely in my control gets fucking terrifying. I guess laughing at it makes it seem small.

[hanwooz]

50 for The8 please!!!

50. “I think you’re beautiful.”

What makes something beautiful? 

Beautiful things are fragile, ephemeral. The beauty lies in the fact that you know it won’t last forever, so you have to treasure it now while you still can.

But what about human beauty? What makes someone beautiful?

What makes someone ugly?

You sigh as you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, the sunlight streaming through the window making the dust apparent on the reflective surface.

You don’t think you’re ugly, per se. But no one would ever, or has ever, called you beautiful. Being on the shorter side, you’re stuck with the label “cute.” Short stature, round face, large innocent eyes, slightly chubby–cute, everyone says.

Not that you really mind. You would rather be cute than ugly, and you use your innocent image to your advantage. People find it easy to talk to you, mostly because you look nice. It helps, especially at work, where your coworkers give you advice and tricks of the trade without you having to ask.

But sometimes, on days like today, you look at yourself in the mirror and hate everything you see. You look at your legs and hate how big they seem, especially because they’re already short as it is. You hate that you see a blob where your stomach is. Your arms seem unnecessarily big, and it’s not muscle for sure. You hate your nonexistent chest. You hate the hair on your body. You hate the way your eyes are slightly uneven. You hate your nose, your eyebrows, your face.

You wish you had a nicer body. You wish you had the motivation to actually hit the gym and stick to a schedule, rather than just say “I should really go work out” as you reach for another bag of chips.

You wish you had the elegant face of someone who would undeniably be called “beautiful.” Not a round face like yours, but longer, higher cheekbones, a better nose maybe.

Most days, you’re fine. But on days like today, you just hate yourself.

You sigh yet again, and get dressed before you’re late for work. You throw on a plaid shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. You work at a campus coffee shop, which thankfully is only about a five minute walk from your apartment. You grab your bag and keys and shove your feet into a pair of worn black boots, locking the door behind you.

“Hey, Y/N!” your coworker Jeonghan greets you from behind the counter as you enter.

“Hey, Jeonghan,” you reply as you move past him into the back room to put away your belongings. Once you do, you grab an apron hanging by the door and put it on, walking back out to the counter to start your shift.

“It’s not that busy today,” Jeonghan says amiably beside you as he wipes down the counter with a towel. It’s true; there are only a few people in the store, students staring at their laptops or taking notes.

“Yeah, probably because the semester just started. They don’t really need the caffeine yet.” You pluck a blueberry muffin from one of the racks near the back; one of the perks of working here is that the manager allows you to have as many free coffee refills as you want and a free muffin, as long as it doesn’t distract you when there are customers that need to be served.

Jeonghan pours himself a cup of coffee and stirs in cream and sugar before turning to face you. “Yeah, I guess so. So, what classes are you taking this semester?”

“Hmm.” You list off your classes, counting them with your fingers. “Biochemistry, physics, communications.”

Jeonghan grins and whistles. “What a nightmare.”

You laugh. “I know, it’s terrible. What about you?”

“Oh,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Art history, advanced music theory, and this English class on dystopian novels. I just had to take it to have enough credits to be full time.”

“Wow, that sounds really interesting, actually.”

“Yeah, I guess, but I’m just ready to get out of here.” Jeonghan is a theater major and graduating after the end of this semester.

“You’re not gonna forget about me after you make it big, right?” you tease Jeonghan, reaching around him to throw the muffin wrapper into the trash. “You have to get me free tickets to your Broadway shows.”

“Yeah, yeah, only if you give me free drugs,” he replies. It’s a running joke between the two of you, him being a theater major and you being pre-pharmacy.

“Whoa, what’s this? Drug dealing in a public space? In broad daylight?” a voice asks from the other side of the counter.

You turn. It’s Minghao, your best friend. “You’re just jealous you’re not getting any of said free drugs,” you say as you walk over to him, ready to punch in his order. “The usual?”

“Yep, vanilla latte,” Minghao grins, handing you his card and nodding in Jeonghan’s direction. “Hey, Jeonghan.”

“Hey, man,” Jeonghan replies easily, preparing Minghao’s vanilla latte and putting in a sprinkle of cinnamon the way Minghao likes it.

You hand Minghao his card back, and Jeonghan walks over to give Minghao his drink. “So when are you going to ask Y/N on a date?” he asks Minghao.

Minghao, who had taken a sip from his cup, coughs and thumps at his chest. You roll your eyes and hand him a few napkins, which he takes with a nod of thanks and wipes his mouth. “Jeonghan, how many times are we going to go through this before you get it through your head that Minghao and I are just friends?”

Jeonghan just laughs and points at Minghao with his chin. “Not until the poor boy stops giving such good reactions.”

“Stop reacting to him, Minghao. It’s the same joke every time he sees you.”

“Don’t yell at him,” Jeonghan says, crossing his arms and studying the two of you. “And you two can go sit down and talk. I’ll shout if I need help here.”

“Thanks, Jeonghan.” You untie your apron and fold it, putting it by the register as you walk out to join Minghao, who has already claimed a table by the wall.

“Hey,” Minghao greets you as you sit across from him.

“Hey.”

“Ready for classes?”

“Please. No one’s ever ready.”

Minghao laughs. “That’s true.”

After some small talk, the two of you end up scrolling on your phones in silence, as you always do. “Minghao,” you say suddenly, as you scroll through Instagram and think of your thoughts that morning.

“Hmm?”

“What makes someone beautiful?”

Minghao glances up from his phone to look at you, eyes scrunching slightly. “What?”

“You know….beautiful. As opposed to, say, cute or just pretty.”

“What brought this on all of a sudden?” he asks, but he puts his phone down and rests his head against his hand, thinking.

You don’t respond, because this is Minghao and he’s used to you asking random questions. Instead, you reach for his latte and take a sip as he ponders your question.

“I think,” he begins finally, looking at you, “beauty is more encompassing than adjectives like cute or pretty. Those are more face-level, based solely on appearances.”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head, thinking about his words. “How so?”

“I think calling someone cute is sort of a shallow compliment, you know? Like, there are different kinds of beauty. There’s physical beauty, sure, but also personality-wise, someone can be beautiful.”

“Hmm.”

“Think about it. Someone can be really physically attractive, but if their personality is shit, I would never call them beautiful. Pretty, sure. But not beautiful.”

“Hmm. That’s an interesting way of thinking about it.”

“Yup,” Minghao grins, seeing that you’re satisfied with his answer. “Tell you what, why don’t we go on a fancy dinner tonight?”

“What?” You laugh. “Why would we do that?”

“Why not? You’re free tonight anyway, aren’t you? So dress up, and I’ll wear a suit and everything, and we’ll go out and eat some fancy food and have a good time.”

“But fancy food is expensive–”

“Okay, but you work, and I work, and we should enjoy ourselves while we still have the time. Besides, you gotta start training for when some guy takes you out for fancy dinner, right? Like, you have to know which fork to use when–”

“Shut up, Minghao.”

“I’ll be at your place at seven, then,” he says, looking immensely pleased with himself. “On the dot.”

True to his word, Minghao rang your doorbell at exactly seven, dressed impeccably in a black suit as he had promised. You opened the door in a t-shirt and sweatpants, with your hair half-curled. “I said I would be here at seven, woman,” Minghao complains, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’re not even dressed yet.”

“I might have taken a nap and overslept,” you admit, heading back to your room. “Go watch TV or something. I’ll be ready in like fifteen minutes.”

“You’re hopeless,” Minghao calls after you. “This is why you’re single!”

“Shut up!” you shout, trying to curl your hair as quickly as you can without burning yourself. Five minutes later, you finally finish, and start on your makeup. It’s just Minghao, but you’re going to go full out anyway, just because you can. Once you’re done, you slip into the navy dress you had picked out earlier–form-fitting from waist up (to make it look like you have curves) and flowy from waist down to give you freedom of movement. You dig through your closet to find the only pair of heels you own, strappy silver ones that give you a two-inch height boost.

When you finally emerge from your room twenty minutes later, Minghao is rummaging through your fridge. “Why are you looking for food when we’re going to eat?”

“Because someone,” Minghao begins, turning around. His eyebrows shoot up upon seeing you, but he continues, “Someone is twenty minutes late. I’m hungry.”

“Okay, well, I’m done. Let’s go.”

Without another word, Minghao leads the way out of your apartment and to his car. The drive is mostly silent, and the two of you still say nothing as you walk up to the restaurant he had made a reservation at. Once at the door, Minghao takes a deep breath, and you do the same. “Ready?” he says, offering you his arm.

You take it, the excitement finally hitting. You’re all dressed up with your best friend, going to eat a nice dinner, just because you can. “Let’s do this.”

Minghao smiles down at you, and you walk through the doors. The waiter leads you to your table. It feels surreal; you never would have imagined yourself spending money on such things, but Minghao was right. Why not? Why not have fun once in a while when you can? You feel unstoppable.

“So,” Minghao says, once the two of you have finished eating. “How do you feel?”

“Great,” you answer, leaning back in your chair. “You were right. This was a good idea. I feel so powerful.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he warns. “We’re not rich enough for this kind of lifestyle.”

You laugh, turning to look out the window and take in the view. “Please. I know.”

“Y/N?” Minghao asks, after a moment of silence.

“Yeah?”

“Guess what.”

“What.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

You turn back towards him, about to tell him to knock it off and stop joking, but he’s completely serious, with a small smile on his face as he looks at you.

So you smile back at him. “Thanks, Minghao.”

“You’re welcome.”

[solivar]

WIP: Ghost Stories On Route 66

aka the one in which Hanzo Shimada is an expatriate student of the Fine Arts, attending college in what he assumes to be a reasonably sedate corner of the American southwest. Jesse McCree is an occasionally leather-clad NPS ranger whose duties extend somewhat further than shooing lost tourists back onto the clearly marked hiking trails. Something weird is going on in the desert south of Santa Fe and their lives unexpectedly come together in the middle of it.

Now featuring family meetings over breakfast, Genji being right about something, and Hanzo tossing the very last of his fucks out the window.

Author’s note: I’m having oral surgery tomorrow so I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that maybe, just maaaaaybe, that the next section might not come out tomorrow. However, once I get this stinking tooth out, I will no longer be continuously fighting off an infection that saps my energy and randomly puts me in the hospital. I will attempt to get back to my regular writing schedule and your entertainment forthwith. ^_^

Sweetwater’s Cafe and Dim Sum Palace was what happened when the owner of the hip young southwestern fusion cuisine cafe closest to the UNM main campus met the owner of the hip young Chinese small plates restaurant closest to the UNM main campus and, rather than engage in an increasingly rancorous culinary battle for the spare cash of every student in walking distance, they instead fell wildly in love and shortly thereafter into scrumptious and wholesome partnership. Strategically located catty-corner to the main campus residence halls, the post-merger restaurant became the place for broke ass college students attempting to top-load on calories for the day to turn up as soon as the doors opened, eat from carts pushed around three stories of public-to-semi-private dining space by an army of cheerful abuelitas for two hours straight, and still make a 9:30 lecture with time to spare. The joint Shimada-Tekhartha-Song-Correia household dined there frequently enough that the host waved them through despite the fact that Hanzo still looked like he had just committed a phthalo green and phthalocyanine blue shaded murder even after a thorough scrubbing. Fortunately, their usual table, a booth in the back corner of the semi-private floor, was unoccupied and he rather swiftly found himself tucked firmly between Genji on one side and Zenyatta on the other, with Lucio and Hana standing guard on the outside ends of the U-shaped seat. Hana had, in fact, only parted with her adopted hockey stick with extreme reluctance.

“Is it too early to start drinking?” Hana asked brightly. “Because, between you and me, I have a feeling that today is going to be the sort of thing that demands Mimosas. Lots of Mimosas. And possibly a whole bottle of tequila before it’s all over.”

“Yes,” said Hanzo and Zenyatta, more or less simultaneously and in reasonably identical disapproving tones, to their mutual surprise.

“You two aren’t going to be a single bit of fun about any of this, are you? Okay, fine.” And when the drinks cart came around, she settled for a spiced hot chocolate and waited patiently for everyone else to adulterate their tea or coffee before demanding, “All right. Spill it. I want to know in excruciating detail why our security deposit probably just went down the toilet.”

Hanzo inhaled the steam rising off his cup of tea, took a fortifying sip, organized his thoughts, and began to speak, pausing only when the food carts stopped next to their table. He told them about the trip itself, the breakdown, the walk through the desert, the ranger and their drive back to the car the next morning, and precisely how everything had gone horribly, hideously wrong from that point forward. He even copped to talking to Zenyatta first, which earned them both a half-startled, half-hurt look from Genji. When he finished, the table was covered in half-empty plates of huevos rancheros, honey-coated sopapillas, carne adovada burritos, pork xiao long bao, sesame buns, and a crock of hot and sour soup. He helped himself to a little bit of everything while the others digested what he told them.

“So...what you’re saying is…” Hana said in the tone of one musing idly aloud, “...your smoking hot park ranger has one hot vampire dad and one terrifying smog monster dad but, nonetheless, he has two dads, which means he won’t find it completely traumatic if you call him up and ask him if he wants to go get some hot chocolate and pumpkin empanadas once all this is over?”

“Really? That was your takeaway from his story?” Lucio asked.

“It was the takeaway that doesn’t make me want to run screaming back to Korea.” Hana replied, sweetly.

“Okay, there is that.” Lucio turned and leveled a deadly serious look at him, brown eyes intensely earnest. “Han, I love you man, you know that, right? So you know this is coming from a place of love when I say you could not be more obviously thirsty for this dude if you had a holoscreen floating over your head announcing in foot-tall flashing letters I am thirsty for Ranger Jesse McCree. Seriously, ask him out. The worst he can do is say he’s not interested.”

Hanzo buried his face in his soup bowl in an effort to disguise the fact that all the blood was rushing into his head with such violence he could hear it roaring in his ears like a gale-force wind. On one side, he could feel Zenyatta heroically controlling the urge to add his encouragement to the chorus; on the other, he suspected that Genji was restraining something considerably less supportive.

“Show of hands,” Genji asked, his tone positively glacial with the self-control it was taking him not to have a screaming freakout in the middle of breakfast, “Who thinks my brother being stalked by a soul-eating monstrosity from beyond reality as we know it is completely unacceptable and something we should all be working to change right now?”

Four hands went up; Hanzo abstained, since he felt his opinion on the matter should be fairly self-evident.

“Seriously, though.” Hana reached over and snagged a sopapilla. “I joke because otherwise I’d be rocking back and forth in a corner gibbering right now because, really, that was kinda the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen and my Dad collects vintage Junji Ito manga so I know from creepy.”

“I gotta agree with Hana on that one.” Lucio continued to look intensely earnest. “I get why you tried to keep us out of it and I appreciate that, I do, because this semester is trying to murder me even without the addition of horrible tentacle monsters -- “

“I am not entirely certain those are tentacles,” Hanzo murmured into the surface of his soup.

“-- or suspiciously tentacular not-tentacles, but seriously, man. Your life is like normal repellent right now. Anti-normal.” Lucio slumped back in his seat. “And your ranger dude thought sending you back to standard reality would help?”

“The principle is a sound one.” Zenyatta interjected quietly. “The purpose of returning him to us was to encourage his soul to anchor itself in the comforting rituals of the ordinary, of the life he led before it intersected with the unnatural. I suspected the medicine sent to aid that endeavor was dosed slightly too high and therefore overperforming in an unhelpful way -- reducing it, however, may have allowed for something even more dangerous. For that I am profoundly sorry.”

“I asked for your help -- you have nothing to apologize for, Zenyatta.” Hanzo drank the last of his bowl. “Perhaps I should -- “

“Take an academic leave of absence and put a couple thousand miles of ocean between you and whatever that thing is?” Genji suggested helpfully.

“I am not entirely certain that physical distance would actually constitute an encumbrance in this case.” Zenyatta interjected.

“Why not?” His brother replied, with the sort of maddening powers of logic he could marshal when circumstances demanded it. “The ranger suggested it would help if he stayed away from where it happened in the first place -- rationally, even further away would be safest, right?”

“The ranger sent me back here because you are my family,” Hanzo replied quietly. “And because being in your presence would constitute a form of healing. Would you like to contemplate the sort of convalescence I would enjoy if I crawled home and told our parents this story? I would spend the rest of my life contemplating the world through a heavy antipsychotic-colored haze from behind the unrelentingly beige walls and discreetly reinforced windows of a psychiatric institution that I would never be allowed leave again. I’m half amazed you don’t think I’m insane.”

“Admittedly, we kind of have the advantage of knowing you as the less freaky Shimada brother.” Lucio replied soothingly, flicking a glance at Genji as he did so. “No offense, G.”

“None taken.” Then, grudgingly, “I don’t think father would let that happen, but I see your point.”

Hanzo let the breath he’d been holding out in a shaky sigh. “Thank you.”

“In any case, I would suggest that our next course of action should be determining if that...painting...at the house is more than it appears to be -- “ Zenyatta looked up at the squeaks of dismay emanating from Hana.

“Could it be? Honestly?” She asked, eyes approximately twice their normal size. “Because, as it is, I’m not entirely sure I wanna sleep there with it still up as it is and if there’s, y’know, a chance it and its I-can’t-believe-those-aren’t-tentacles might come oozing off the walls I’m completely sacking out in your car for the foreseeable future, Zen, just warning you in advance.”

“Yes.” Simple and unadorned and, not for the first time that day, Hanzo felt as though he were trying to breathe around a red-hot spiky ball of panic.

“So. We call the ranger.” Genji said, firmly. “As far as I’m concerned, a whole lot of this is his damned fault in the first place and he can be doing more to help fix it.” Hanzo opened his mouth to object and found himself collecting a ferocious iridescent green glare for his troubles. “And, no, I don’t want to hear about how it isn’t because your judgment on this topic is completely impaired by your desire to climb him like a fire tower.”

“That is the worst analogy in the entire history of time.” Hanzo replied tersely. “And I am not -- “

“And Hana has a point, too, about staying at the condo not being the best idea until this gets figured out -- which, ideally, should happen today.” Genji continued doggedly on. “And you’re not going to be sleeping across from that no matter what.”

“Agreed.” There were days when it simply didn’t pay to fight, and this was clearly one of them. Hanzo fished the card containing the ranger’s contact information out of his pocket. “I’ll -- “

Genji snagged it in a single smooth motion. “I’ll call him. You’re supposed to be seeking normal, right? Go to class. Keep your studio slot. Hang out in well-lit areas preferably surrounded by hundreds of people. We’ll meet up at the Student Union at...five? How’s five for everybody?”

A general murmur of assent ran around the table and Hanzo nodded, reluctantly, in agreement.

Genji grinned. “Don’t look so worried, aniki. I’ll only chew on him a little bit.”

*

Zenyatta dropped them off at the entrance to the main campus and, until Lucio and Hana peeled off in their respective morning lecture hall directions, Hanzo felt rather distinctly like he was walking surrounded by the world’s smallest, strangest Secret Service detail. Hana was clearly still itching for the security of a hockey stick and, rather than stopping to talk to the two dozen people who tried to flag her down as they crossed the quad, she waved and continued on, her gaze darting about as though she expected something unwholesomely flexible and sanity-blighting to lurch out from behind one of the pieces of exterior display sculpture scattered along their route. Given recent events, he decided he really couldn’t blame her for her excess of caution. Lucio was altogether more mellow but he was also carrying a messenger bag stuffed with enough notebooks and musical equipment components it could probably be used as an improvised melee weapon of some efficacy against even Things From Beyond With or Without Tentacles.

And Genji was, well, Genji and walked a considerable distance out of the way from his own first class to escort Hanzo directly to the doors of Kaplan Memorial Hall, in which lay the fine arts lecture halls and reservable studio spaces. Under normal circumstances, Hanzo arose at godforsaken o’clock in order to take advantage of the fact that there wasn’t an underclassman alive dedicated enough to their major to voluntarily choose a studio block available before the sun was even properly up, no matter how long they could have it. Genji could generally be counted among those ranks, as demonstrated by his reliance on sunglasses when confronted with the early morning light glinting off the glass-and-adobe exteriors of half the buildings on campus, which he normally only encountered under significantly different conditions.

“Hana’s not done asking questions, you know. She’s got that look in her eye.” Genji remarked, pseudo-casual, and Hanzo’s already well-knotted stomach abruptly contorted itself still further into a digestive fractal of perfect dread. “She let it ride just now because she’s actually got class in fifteen minutes but between you and me? She’s going to rake Zen over the coals once she’s got the time. And when your ranger gets here? I wouldn’t want to be him.”

“He’s not my ranger.” Hanzo replied, deeply regretting both the huevos rancheros and the hot and sour soup.

“Semantics.” Genji gave him a sidelong look. “Hanzo -- “

“You want to tell them.” Hanzo finished the thought for him and paused for a moment in the shadow of one of the big pieces on loan from the Museum of Native American Arts and Culture, planting his back against its base and sinking down onto his haunches.

“Zen already knows.” Evenly. “He saw her in me before we even spoke for the first time. I think that we have to tell them. Admittedly, I wish we could do it under more voluntary circumstances but...I think we owe them the truth. Both of us.”

Hanzo closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment on making certain his breakfast stayed where he’d put it. “You’re right,” He finally said, fighting to keep the misery out of his voice and, apparently, succeeding.

“Wow, I am?” Genji actually took his sunglasses off and blinked down at him in genuine surprise.

“Yes.” Hanzo tilted his head back and let the cool of the granite statue base soak into his skull. “I think the ranger might suspect something, too. And right now it’s only a matter of time before everyone else finds out and then managing how much the fallout sucks. We might as well pull the trigger ourselves.”

Genji hunkered down next to him, hesitated fractionally, then brushed the hair back from his eyes. “It doesn’t have to suck, you know. Our friends are smart, caring people who actually like us, which gives them a couple legs up on the rest of the clan on their worst day.”

Hanzo nodded wordlessly and found he didn’t have it in him to crush the hope in his brother’s eyes. “You’re right about that, too.”

“Clearly a lesser sign of the Apocalypse.” Genji pushed back to his feet and offered him a hand up, which he accepted. “Are you okay?”

No. “I’ll be fine,” Hanzo lied with great sincerity. “I probably should have picked either the Tex-Mex or the dim sum, but not both. Bad decision making on my part.”

“Well, at least you’re grown up enough to admit it.” Genji held onto his arm for the rest of the walk. “Where are you going when you’re done in the studio?”

“The library. I’ve got some research yet to do.” The depths of the Kaplan building yawned before him like the heretofore unsuspected entrance to the Underworld.

Genji made a point of obviously texting that information to the rest of the household. “...We also might wanna kinda call the police again. I let the officer in charge know that you weren’t missing-missing and she left me a voicemail saying they’d like to talk to you to confirm that fact. I just found it this morning.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes heavenward. “Number?”

Genji sent it over and offered him a crooked smile. “Be careful, aniki.”

“I promise I won’t drink my paint water.”

“Or fall asleep.”

Hanzo shuddered. “Not yet anyway. Go to class, Genji.”

The fine arts studios were located on Kaplan Hall’s upper floors, the best to take advantage of its relatively exposed position on the south-westernmost edge of campus and the significantly longer exposure to natural light thus afforded. Hanzo made his way quietly through the corridors where at least two early morning art history seminars were already in progress, avoiding the elevators that sounded like the mournful dying song of some beautifully tragic deep sea creature no matter how freshly maintenanced they might be, and took the stairs to his second floor studio slot. Fortunately for the continuing unsettled state of both his stomach and his sanity, his thesis advisor was likely hip-deep in holoslides in front of one of those seminars right now and if he locked the door and turned on the external sound suppression she would correctly interpret that as Do Not Disturb Art Is Trying To Happen and accost him at their scheduled meeting. Unfortunately, at the moment, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less than Try To Make Art Happen thanks very much to the present state of his bedroom and most assuredly not while locked inside a soundproofed chamber whose emergency access keys were some of the most frequently misplaced items in the entire college. He did not want to contemplate the wreckage of human folly while standing on the brink of exposing his own venality, the stupidity and arrogance that Genji had forgiven him, whose consequences he could never undo. He was not ready yet to give up the warm comfort of the others’ kind regard, could feel a part of him trying to crawl away under some internal rock and die at the thought of Zenyatta’s quiet all-encompassing compassion turning to disgust. Or the ranger. He had to plant his back against the corridor wall and clench his jaw against a stomach-churning rush of nausea as his entirely too vivid imagination painted that reaction shot against the insides of his skull. Which, admittedly, might have made for a strikingly personal and heartfelt contrast piece to the sterility of industrial-scale desolation but at the moment it primarily made him want to curl up in the crawlspace under the back stairwell and cry until he drowned in his own phlegm.

He did not, in the end, lock himself in the studio/potential supernatural deathtrap or cry his face off under the stairs. Instead, he peered over the lower edge of the nearest exterior window to make certain Genji wasn’t lurking in the courtyard, taped a note to the studio door that it was unoccupied and free to use, and fled to the library for the sanctuary to be found in research and the stringently enforced lack of interaction with other human beings.

Hanzo took possession of a carrel close to the windows in one of the second floor study rooms, slotted his tablet into the physical network interface, and connected, pulling up the local news sites he had bookmarked the night before. Cora Hernandez had not been miraculously found in the one night since he became aware of both her existence and her disappearance. In fact, all the most current news suggested that the state police and the rangers were preparing to shift from “search and rescue” to “search and recovery,” now that the temperatures were dropping consistently into the thirties by night. Even a reward for useful information offer well north of a hundred thousand dollars had yielded no new clues to her whereabouts. Her parents looked as though they had aged a decade in a few weeks, her mother pale and distraught, and he could only imagine her agony. In the back of his mind, a soft, small voice wondered idly how much effort his own parents would have assigned to the task of finding him, or his body, and how long they would have bothered. The lord and lady of the Shimada-gumi were, in the end, fairly brutal in their pragmatism and wasting more than they had to on a bad investment was never their way. Genji would never stop and he ruthlessly crushed that thought before it could go any further and closed the news tab, refusing to indulge in the thought of what would happen if his brother encountered the thing that attacked him unaware of its nature and there he was imagining it in vivid, horrifying detail and this was definitely one of those days when it didn’t pay to be a Fine Art Masters candidate. It took a long moment of heavy peace-stress breathing and thinking fixedly of nothing but a horde of kittens and puppies gamboling together in a field of wildflowers to distract himself from the increasingly Memlingesque products of his mind’s eye.

The small furry creatures and oxygen supersaturation eventually had the desired effect and his hands were at least reasonably steady as he activated the carrel’s interface surfaces and requested access to several of the library’s more specialized databases. UNM owned a cultural anthropology department unrivaled in the west, even the University of California system, and if there was anywhere he could go to cure his ignorance on a number of topics, it was definitely here, in its repository for thousands of books and even more scholarly articles and original sources. He brought up the anthropological database’s internal search engine, set his fingers on the holokeys, and hesitated.

If he stopped here, the voice of sweet reason murmured in the back of his mind, it ended here. Genji would call the ranger, and he would come to sort out what was wrong at the house. He would finish the rest of his medicine and his soul would never go wandering away from his body again and in a half a year he would graduate and move to some corner of the world where the ghosts and demons of the desert would never cross his path again. And that would be the best, for himself and everyone else, except the next unlucky soul to fall under that thing’s eye, who might not have rescue as close or as capable.

If he did not stop here, that same voice murmured with a significantly sharper edge to its tone, if he insisted upon continuing to look, then he was asking the nameless thing that saw him, that saw him and stalked him and attacked him, to continue doing so. It might even, perhaps, be an invitation to more of such things. He was, that voice hissed, risking taking a door, already cracked, and throwing it all the way open and inviting whatever waited in the dark beyond inside. And for what? He was nothing and had even less to offer and he punched in his first search queries to the sound of sweet reason’s howling despair, watched the results scroll up his screen with a certain cold satisfaction curling in his gut. There was, to put it mildly, a lot. He set is phone to give him a twenty minute warning on the five o’clock hour and dove in head first.

*

[5hfanfiction]

Deliver Me Love (With A Side Of Fries)

A/N: Hey guys! So @lucyinthesk-y gave me this idea and I thought it was super cute so here’s this adorable oneshot based off of their prompt!

-

“Camila!”

“¿Sí, Papi?” Camila groaned in reply. She knew that yell meant she had another delivery run to do and she was not in the mood to bring another greedy human being their food.

Camila worked for her parents as a delivery girl for their restaurant, La Niňa Bonita, which they basically named after her. They started the restaurant a few years after she was born, wanting to give the people of Miami “real mexican food, not that mierda deseducada they serve at Taco Bell”.

Camila was honestly only working there for money and to kill time between her transition from high school to college. Don’t get her wrong, she loves her parents, and she loves the restaurant, she just loathes the people who she delivers to.

“We got a big order going out, mija. Must be a party or something!” Alejandro, Camila’s father, yelled excitedly.

“Exactly how big, Papi?” Camila asked tentatively, a little scared at how happy he was to be making her drive around a lot of food.

“Hm.. enough to feed seven people? Maybe eight?”

“Holy shit, dad!”

“LANGUAGE MIJA!” Sinuhe, Camila’s mother, yelled from the kitchen, making Camila grumble profanities under her breath.

“Just think of the tips you’ll get!” Alejandro said encouragingly.

“Yeah definitely, the last ten people were too stuck up their ass to give me anything,” the brunette grumbled so her mom wouldn’t hear.

“If you don’t get something good out of this delivery, I’ll buy you ice cream, okay?” her father bargained with her.

Camila’s face lit up immediately. “Deal, now help me get this in my car so I can hurry back and get my ice cream.”

-

Camila drove through University of Miami’s campus, searching for the building she was delivering to. She knew for sure her dad would owe her ice cream, college kids were the worst when it came to tips and manners. When she finally found the building she was trying to find, she got all of the bags of food in one trip (because momma didn’t raise no bitch), and entered the building. She got in the elevator and took it up to the 7th floor, and began her search for the room she was looking for.

Camila vaguely remembered as she walked down the hallways that she took a tour of this building when the university accepted her as a student, the guide saying that this was the main freshman housing. She was surprised it was so quiet, you’d think that college freshman on a Saturday night would be obnoxiously loud.

When she finally found room 727, she set the food down onto the ground, shaking her arms out a bit before knocking on the door. She heard a thud on the other side of the door, followed by a muffled “fuck”. She would’ve giggled had the door not opened immediately afterwards.

Camila couldn’t be blamed for her mouth hanging open. The girl in front of her was hot, like Megan Fox’s long lost daughter hot. Her eyes were bright green, sparkling in the dim fluorescent light as she looked at Camila. Her dark hair was down in unruly waves, cascading down her shoulders and strewn across her face. The girl in front of her ran a hand through her hair to tame it, and Camila was sure that she was in the presence of a goddess.

“Hey, what’s up?”

‘Fuck, even her voice is hot!’ Camila thought to herself. The girl was staring at her patiently and Camila suddenly remembered why she was here.

“Oh shit, my bad, I just uh.. Delivery?” Camila hurried out, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment at her inability to be a normal human being in front of pretty girls.

The girl in front of her giggled at her flustered state, nodding, “Yeah, that’s for me.”

“Are you having a party or something? I mean this is an assload of food,” Camila asked as she glanced at all the bags at her feet.

This time, it was the girl’s turn to blush. “Uh, no. I just, uh, I really like your guys’s food? So I just kind of order in bulk?” she replied, sounding more like she was questioning herself than answering a question.

Camila laughed at her response, finding the girl absolutely adorable. “Well, who am I to judge?” She smiled, making the girl in front of her visibly relax.

“Well here’s what I owe you..” she trailed off slowly.

“Oh, I’m Camila.” The brunette introduced herself with a small wave.

“Lauren,” the girl replied with a bright smile, handing her the money.

Camila counted it quickly, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Lauren you realize this is like ten dollars more than you owe, right?”

“Keep the change,” Lauren shrugged.

Camila immediately shook her head, trying to give the money back to Lauren, “I am not taking this much money from you, from what I know all college kids are broke and ten dollars is like gold to you guys.”

“No, I insist. Take it, please,” Lauren spoke as she placed the ten in Camila’s hand and closed the brunette’s fist with her own hand. Camila could only nod dumbly, too shocked by the fact that the gorgeous girl in front of her was basically holding her hand.

“Do you need some help getting that into your dorm?” Camila offered.

“Don’t worry about it, I got this,” Lauren smiled happily. “Thanks again, Camila. It was nice to meet you.”

“Anytime, Lauren. It was nice to meet you too,” Camila replied easily, making her way back to her car with a permanent smile on her face.

-

“So do I owe you ice cream?”

“Not this time, Papi.”

-

It had been maybe two weeks since Camila had met Lauren. Every time her father called out a big order for her to deliver, she would secretly hope it would be the green eyed girl, but every time it was some asshole that treated her like second rate garbage instead. She figured she must’ve scared her with her awkward gawking and inability to form a coherent sentence.

Camila was sitting in the restaurant, idly playing with the salt shakers while waiting for her shift to end, when her father called out to her from the kitchen.

“Camila! There’s one last order I need you to run and you can go straight home afterwards if you’d like, I won’t need you anymore for the rest of the day.”

“Can I just leave my uniform here then?” Camila questioned.

“Sí, no me importa,” he responded with a wave of his hand, “I’ll load your car while you change.”

Camila walked into the back room, taking off her uniform and replacing it with her Stussy crop top and ripped high waisted jeans. She took her hair out of her ponytail and shook it lightly, looking into the mirror to make sure she didn’t look like she just woke up. Satisfied that she didn’t look like a half dead zombie, she met her father out by her car.

“Where to this time?” Camila asked Alejandro.

“It’s those party people again,” Alejandro smiled as he handed her the address.

Camila’s eyes widened as she read the familiar address. It was Lauren. She looked up at her dad, who was still smiling at her, and she hugged him tightly.

“Gracias, Papi,” she mumbled into his shoulder, “I’ll see you later.”

-

Camila sat in the parking lot of Lauren’s building, touching her makeup in her rearview mirror. She was really nervous about seeing the green eyed beauty again. Admittedly, it’s probably because of the small crush Camila had developed on the girl, but she pushed that thought out of her head immediately.

She couldn’t possibly be crushing on someone she met once, could she?

She made the journey up to Lauren’s dorm, her heart pounding harder with every step she took towards her door. She sent the food down and knocked lightly.

The door opened to reveal Lauren, clad in a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a The 1975 shirt. She was wearing barely any makeup but it was just enough to make her eyes look absolutely stunning, and her hair fell down in gentle waves.

Well shit, Camila was definitely crushing on her.

“Uh h-hey there,” Lauren stuttered, a blush rapidly spreading across her cheeks.

Camila’s head tilted in confusion, until she remembered that she wasn’t in her uniform this time. This time she actually looked hot, and Lauren was stuttering which meant..

‘Holy shit she think’s I’m hot,’ Camila realized. An idea popped into her head, she could use this to her advantage.

Camila basically gave the girl the smoulder. She ran a hand through her hair, tousling it to one side as she looked up at Lauren through her lashes, biting her bottom lip.

“Hi, Lauren,” she spoke, her voice slightly raspy.

“Oh fuck,” Lauren mumbled under her breath.

“Did you run out of your stock, I assume?” Camila asked, smiling teasingly at the girl.

“Sadly, yeah,” Lauren replied, finally able to form a sentence. “It’s good to see you again, you look.. You look amazing,” she spoke honestly, causing Camila to blush.

“Thanks, I’m just glad to not be in that uniform for the rest of the night,” the brunette giggled.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you here if you’re done with work?” Lauren asked curiously.

“You’re actually my last run, then I’m going home to eat ice cream and watch cartoons,” she answered honestly.

Lauren pulled out her money to pay Camila for the food, cursing as she counted it.

“Fuck, I don’t have enough money to tip you,” Lauren exasperated as she ran a hand through her hair.

Camila just shook her head at her and smiled, “You don’t have to tip me, Lauren. I don’t mind at all.”

Lauren stood their for a moment, looking completely torn. Camila thought she looked like a puppy, in all honestly.

“You said you’re off, right?” Lauren asked, to which the brunette nodded.

“Would you uh, would you maybe wanna share some of this food with me?” she asked timidly.

Camila was surprised for a second, that this gorgeous girl was asking her to hang out with her, but she smiled immediately afterwards.

“I’d love that.”

-

“Oh my god no! There is no way that Lana Del Rey follows you on twitter!”

Camila and Lauren had spent the better part of the last hour basically rolling on the couch laughing as they talked and got to know each other. Camila learned that Lauren was studying architecture with a minor in women’s studies because she’s extremely passionate about art and the state of world. She also learned she lives alone since her roommate dropped out of college, leaving her to a dorm by herself. Lauren hates the color orange, loves her family more than anything, and wants to use her voice to educate those around her to love and not hate.

Camila, in turn, tells Lauren that she’ll be starting at University of Miami next fall, majoring in music composition, because she’s always been incredibly passionate about putting her emotions into the swell of the violins and the beat of the drums. She told her about her parents own the restaurant she delivers for, which Lauren tells her to thank them for making actual authentic Mexican and Cuban dishes because she would probably have died without a good meal from her parents if it weren’t for them.

Currently, Lauren was telling her about the time Lana Del Rey followed her on twitter. She said that her friends had told her that she followed Lauren, and green eyed girl called them “fucking idiots” until she looked at her phone and saw it for herself.

“I promise she does, look!” Lauren showed her Lana’s twitter, the space below her username saying “Follows You”.

“Holy shit, that’s amazing!” Camila exclaimed, making Lauren smile brightly and nodding.

Camila finished her food, slightly disappointed that she would have to leave now that her only reason for being here was gone.

Lauren must’ve sensed the shift in her mood, because she placed her hand on the brunette’s knee and looked into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

Camila gave her a fake smile, “Yeah I’m good.”

“Don’t do that, what’s up?” Lauren looked right through her facade and it kind of scared her.

“It’s stupid, don’t worry about it,” Camila waved it off.

“If it’s upsetting you, it isn’t stupid,” the green eyed girl spoke seriously.

Camila just sighed, knowing she wasn’t getting out of this. “I just.. I don’t want to leave yet..” Camila trailed off.

Lauren tilted her head to the side, looking at her like she was crazy. “Who said you had to leave?”

“I just thought that since we finished eating-”

“Hey, you can stay as long as you’d like. If I didn’t want to hang out with you, I wouldn’t have invited you in.”

Camila looked into Lauren’s eyes to see if she could find any sign of dishonesty, but she saw nothing but truth. They stayed there for a moment, just looking into each other’s eyes, pulling each other in, until Camila saw Lauren’s eyes flicker down to her lips and back up.

Camila bit her lip subconsciously, noticing the way Lauren’s breath hitched slightly when she did. She didn’t notice how close they were until she could feel the other girl’s breath hit her face. Camila looked up into the girl’s emerald eyes one more time before shutting her eyes and leaning in, lips meeting halfway.

Camila sighed into the kiss. Lauren’s lips were the softest she had ever kissed, gently leading her as they kissed. The green eyed girl nipped at her bottom lip, making the Latina groan quietly. Camila felt the hand on her knee move up to her thigh as she tugged her closer and ran her tongue along her bottom lip, deepening the kiss. They kissed like that for a while, so natural that it was like they had kissed many times before. Their kisses slowed until Lauren was the first to pull back, resting her forehead against Camila’s.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you,” Lauren admitted breathlessly.

Camila giggled slightly, “God, same.”

Lauren sighed happily, kissing her once more before leaning back to look into the brunette’s eyes.

“Does this mean I don’t have to order more food this week as an excuse to see you?” Lauren asked hopefully.

Camila laughed loudly at her words, leaning into Lauren’s shoulder to keep her upright.

“Definitely not.”

-

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I apparently love writing fanfiction now so I’m gonna be writing a lot of stuff coming up soon! 

Be sure to check out my story Touch My Soul (Hold It Tight) and my other oneshot Be Mine For Like Five Seconds! I promise they’re not awful.

I love you all and I hope you’re all doing well

-Katie

(As always, you can find my story on wattpad here)

[allumetterouge]

I almost didn’t post this today, tbh - but I choose to trust the two lovely people who told me I wouldn’t make a fool out of me showing y’all this

Thank you @minchen0897 and @ceara-banana <3 And a Happy Valentine’s to you!

The Perks of being Jason Todd

Relationship: Jason/Tim Summary: It's way too easy to convince Jason to pick Dick's drunk brother up from a party. Which may or may not have to do with his stupid crush. 

[Read on AO3]

Jason dreaded what Dick would say the moment he picked up the phone. So he stared at the device before reclining back in his chair and finally giving in.

“What?”

“I got good news and bad news.”

“Don’t you always?” He twirled his pencil in the hand not holding the phone. His thesis was due in two months and he really had wanted to work on it today – but Dick Grayson was a man on a mission and Jason knew not to stand in his way. Mostly because it ended up advantageous for him, too.

“The dean agreed to listen to your proposal about female hygiene products in the bathrooms.”

“Fuck yes. Just give them some pads, at least, dammit, it’s not that hard.”

Dick chuckled mirthlessly. “He’s going to listen, Jay, no one said anything about him agreeing with you. You remember the last time you asked him to give out free stuff to the student body?”

“Pretty sure HE won’t forget it either. - So what’s the deal? When can I talk to him? In fact, I got some time right now.” Jason turned the page on his notepad.

“Not before next Friday?”

“Next Friday, huh.” He jotted down the date and underlined it twice. Jason liked to be prepared for this kind of stuff and he would make sure to let Donna do most of the talking this time. Nobody could refuse her; she was a goddess and she knew it.

“Jay,” Dick said, his voice low enough to be little more than a hiss through the phone. “About the bad news.”

Of course. There was always a catch. “What is it? Does he want a public apology?”

“Actually, it’s a favor.”

“Geeze, what does he want?” Slapping his hand on the desk, he stood, starting to pace through his room.

“It’s for me actually.” Jason stopped dead in his tracks. Dick Grayson, the golden boy himself, needed a favor from the one student who just couldn’t keep his mouth shut and study nicely like all the other students on campus?

“Can you pick up my little brother?”

It was no secret Dick Grayson had been adopted. It was no secret he hadn’t been the only kid that had been adopted by the same, wealthy family. It was a secret, though, who that wealthy family was, as all of them went by their original last names. So when Dick told him about his little brother, Jason was surprised to know the kid. Tim Drake was a freshman in his literature class and he was pretty sure they had argued about every text they had discussed in class. And by ‘pretty sure’ Jason meant ‘he knew exactly how bad it was that those were the pictures his subconsciousness conjured up almost every time he jerked off’.

The worst part was that they weren’t even friends. They didn’t know each other outside of class and as much as Jason wanted to kiss that pretty brain behind that pretty face, that was about it.

With growing annoyance, Jason still found himself pushing his way through the party Tim had called his brother from. Parties were boring. People dancing and screaming at each other was not Jason’s idea of a good evening. His mood only perked up when he saw a familiar figure leaning on one of the couches in the living room.

“Cassie,” he called out to Donna’s cousin. The girl actually heard him over the noise and Jason thanked God for that small miracle.

The blonde blinked at him for a moment longer than needed, which might have more to do with the red cup in her hand than his charming good looks. “You’re...”

“Jason,” he prompted, only to add, “the guy Donna brought over to cook dinner around Christmas?”

“Oh, right! Jackson!”

“Jason. Listen, I’m looking for Tim Drake? Tiny guy, usually wearing some kind of flannel and jeans?”

Cassie started at him, the corner of her mouth turning down slightly. “I know Tim.”

“Great.” Jason shoved his hands in his pockets, shifting a little on his feet. He cringed when one of his shoes kept sticking to the floor. “I’m here to pick him up.”

Chucking back her drink, Cassie waved her hand over the couch she was leaning on. When Jason didn’t move, she pushed her cup in his hands and bent down over the couch.

“Your ride’s here.”

Carefully not to tread into anything else, Jason rounded the couch to watch Cassie lean over the kid he’s been looking for. Just like her, Tim seemed to be inebriated, but unlike Cassie, he was flushing and crying and trying to pull the girl over the backrest.

“Geeze.” Jason ran a hand through his hair. “You’re a mess, kid.”

It took them a while to get Tim in his car, but together, Cassie and Jason made it. The drive wasn’t too long, but it would take them enough time to listen to the radio if they weren’t talking. And Tim hadn’t seemed to be in any condition to talk. For a while, Jason was sure the kid had fallen asleep, but he turned the radio down and his heart sank when he heard the sobs coming from the backseat.

“You okay back there?”

The noise stopped impressively fast, but Tim couldn’t quite get the tears out of his voice. “What do you care?”

With a sigh, Jason set the turn signal. “Come on. I’m getting you home. Least you can do is tell me what the fuck happened that made Dick promise to play in the next play.”

Tim sat up, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked like a petulant child but Jason still felt relief wash over him. He’d stopped crying. That was the Tim he knew, the one who didn’t take Jason’s bullshit. “He so did not.”

“You got me,” Jason chuckled. “It’d be great, though. Imagine him as Peter Pan. We could actually hang him on some ropes and make him fly - wouldn’t be half as dangerous as having Rose do it again.”

“Rose was a great Peter.”

That, Jason had to give her. He’d gotten into trouble for the gender thing, of course, but no one actually cared other than the dean.

Tim put a hand on the seat, almost touching Jason’s shoulder. He was leaning his head on the cushion, glancing at Jason from the corner of his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“You probably got better things to do than picking up some asshole on a Saturday night.”

Keeping his eyes on the road, Jason felt his heart beat against his ribs. This close, he could smell Tim. Could smell the alcohol and the party on his skin. The last time they had been this close, Tim had almost jumped over his table to get in Jason’s face about Lady Macbeth. The kid had looked vicious then, vicious and more alive than ever. There was no chance in hell Jason would ever forget the fire in his eyes or the sneer on his lips, but neither seemed likely on the young boy in the back of his car.

Tim leaned his head on the passenger seat, studying Jason with eyes, still red from crying. After a moment or two that felt way too long, he sighed; a tiny, wet sound that made Jason’s heart clench painfully. “Just... sorry for being a bother, I guess. It’s my fault and I should be able to find my own way home...”

“Yeah, okay.” On the spur of the moment, Jason hit the breaks to merge into another line. “That’s bullshit. We’re not doing that.”

“Wait, what?” Tim blinked, pushing of the seat to look around. “This is not the way home.”

“It’s called a detour.” Jason gritted his teeth. His hands started to shake on the wheel but he refused to look at Tim. Whatever he thought about Jason’s impulse, he would have to verbalize it because Jason couldn’t deal with hurting the kid even more. Not when his intentions were actually quite the opposite.

“Look, birdbrain,” he said, still keeping his eyes on the road. “I’m not letting you home like this. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to explain to your dad what happened if you can’t even tell Dick, so no. We’re gonna sober you up first and then we’ll think about getting your glass slipper back so the prince won’t find you and tell your dad about that party.”

“Shit.” Tim sat back. “My paper’s due on Friday.” Jason blinked, looking back at the boy and giving him a confused grunt that made Tim laugh. “Conner still has my laptop.”

“Then go get it some time this week.”

Tim laughed again. A broken, hysteric laugh that made Jason actually turn his head. “He doesn’t want me back. He’s broken up with me and doesn’t want to see me again and I can’t get my laptop anymore. It’s gone. Whoosh.” Tim’s hands move, imitating a small explosion, but his face still bore the false cheer.

Jason bit his lip, trying to focus on the road ahead. So that’s what all this was about. This was the reason Tim got drunk at that party and called Dick, acting so out of character his brother made sure the kid got home safely. Cursing his luck, Jason could only hope Dick would come home sooner than intended. Knowing the family, Tim didn’t have much fun with his little brother and their father without Dick around, even if there was no break-up hanging over his head like a dark cloud.

Tim and Conner had been … No matter how much Jason had wanted to get to know Tim better, their relationship had always been a great excuse not to try anything. To not try getting Tim’s attention, because knowing he’d be rejected felt way better when the reason wasn’t Tim not being interested but the plausible deniability that already being taken gave him.

So Tim and Conner were no more. Great. Dick had called them ‘soulmates’ once and Jason had wanted to vomit. Whatever the case, the kid must be hurting like hell right now and all Jason saw was the way his face twisted into that grimace, that smile that was even more fake than Claudius’s declarations to Hamlet’s mother.

“Stay put,” Jason ordered when he pulled into the rest stop. Working at the restaurant there had its perks – one of them being getting good, greasy food in the middle of a Saturday night without questions asked. Still warm, too. Jason stalked across the parking lot with a doggy bag in hand not long after, opening the back door of his car with a flourish. “Now you get out. Fresh air and greasy food, just what the doctor ordered.”

Tim sneered, his nose crinkling harshly. But he did as he was told. His tears had stopped, but standing next to Jason, he seemed even smaller than usually. His shoulders slumped and his feet dragging behind him as they made their way to one of the benches where families would pack out their lunch when they didn’t come into the restaurant to eat on their way to whatever vacation they had planned.

They sat with their backs to the table and Jason handed a bottle of water over. Tim drank without a word, kept taking the food from Jason silently. It felt nice, just existing like this. Moving with each other, no words needed. The kid wolfed down the burger Jason had gotten for him, and he was half-way through his fries when he finally looked up. He looked up but ducked his head between his shoulders, a blush on his cheeks that Jason blamed on the cool night air.

“Thank you.”

He shrugged. Whatever Tim was thinking about, he was still a little drunk and would have one hell of a hangover in the morning. “Don’t mention it. ‘s not like I’m doing this for free.”

Tim’s gaze fell, his hands fumbling with the bottle. “Oh.”

“Yeah, Dickie is getting old cummerbund to talk to me again,” Jason added. The kid was confusing him, one second, he seemed to feel better, to calm down, the other… he looked even more devastated than before. “Stop thinking about that asshole.”

Tim snorted, leaning his back against the table to look up at the stars. “Who says I’m thinking about Conner?”

“You’re thanking me like you owe me. You really just want to feel bad about yourself and being a bother to me gives you another reason.”

The kid chuckled, hugging the bottle close to his chest. “Stop trying to make sense, I’m still drunk.”

Jason couldn’t help himself, he leaned over, his arm falling behind Tim on the table like it belonged there. And he smiled. Genuinely. “You’re awfully eloquent for someone still being drunk.”

“I’m still able to make bad choices.” Tim grinned back, his face so close Jason could feel the warmth of his breath against his neck. His eyes drifted towards Tim’s lips seeing the words more than hearing them and wanting to feel them against his mouth more than he’d wanted anything in a long time. “Really, really bad choices,” the kid said, his head falling against Jason’s shoulder. “Like telling Conner about the other guy.”

“The other--” Jason’s lungs were on fire, each breath hurting as he felt Tim getting comfortable under his arm.

“The other guy I like.”

“Oh.” Jason forced a smile on his face. Tim was drunk and cuddling up with him because he was drunk. He didn’t like Jason and he didn’t like Conner either. He liked someone else. Someone who wasn’t Jason. He was doing a bad job of hiding his pain, having Tim in his arms and still knowing he had no chance to be more to Tim than the guy from Literature 101 who grinned way too much while telling him all the ways he was wrong about this or that interpretation. More than the guy his brother talked into stopping him from getting black-out drunk at a stupid party.

“You’re a good person, Jason. You’re easy to talk to, you know? I…” Tim sighed against his shoulder. “I like you.”

Jason didn’t recognize his voice when the words came out almost automatically. He stood, dislodging the kid and ignoring the sudden cold he felt where Tim’s warmth had been only moments before. “Let’s get you home,” he said, shutting off the pain he felt at those stupid, three words. Words he had longed to hear – but not like this.

The trip was short and all the while, they hadn’t spoken another word. The radio had filled the silence, but something had changed, so when Jason killed the motor in front of Tim’s house, he didn’t expect the kid to hesitate.

“Thank you. For … everything,” Tim said, his hands gripping the seatbelt.

Jason grunted. He wanted a cigarette but he hated smoking in the car. The smell just never left the upholstery and the ash got everywhere.

“I, um, I meant it.” The kid unbuckled and chuckled absentmindedly. Tim was not looking at him and the blush on his cheeks could not be blamed on the cold. Jason’s heating was working perfectly fine.

He leaned over the stick one hand on the console, the other tentatively bracing itself on Jason’s shoulder. Tim moved slowly, giving him all the time he’d need to stop him, but Jason had never expected anything like this. Had no idea what to think of Tim’s lips pressing against his.

Jason didn’t react. He was frozen in place, yelling at himself to get a move on - this might be his only chance, Tim might not even know him anymore on Monday. Kid’s drunk and heartbroken and desperate for comfort. But Jason felt himself kiss back, his fingers sliding over Tim’s knee and his eyes falling close.

Ever since the start of the semester, he had been curious about this; had wanted to feel Tim’s tongue in his mouth, had wanted to hear the soft sounds, the tiny breaths between them, but Jason was a bad man. A bad choice and Tim was drunk and heartbroken and desperate for comfort.

When he pulled back, he was panting, and so was Tim. Their breaths came out in short, shallow puffs, mingling in the small space between them. Opening his eyes, Jason could see the spark in Tim’s. Never had he seen the kid’s cheeks so red or his lips so swollen, making a picture that would haunt him in his dreams.

“Thank you,” Tim said again, smiling. His eyes closed and the moment broke, getting Jason back to reality. He had wanted this, but it was a bad idea. So, so bad…

Tim let himself fall back into his seat, taking a deep breath before putting a hand on the door. He kept smiling, but Jason knew his eyes would still be swollen, would still be red from crying all night and his head would hurt and he’d regret this night in the morning.

Climbing out of the car, Tim moved slowly, as if reluctant to leave. He turned back, one hand still on the door. “So, um. Wanna get lunch together on Monday?”

Jason blinked, dumbfounded. “I... Yes.” Because he wanted to. He really, really wanted to. Get to know Tim better, that is. And maybe… more.

“Great,” Tim grinned, his eyes bright in the harsh light of the car. “It’s a date,” he said before jerking the door shut.

A minute passed, maybe ten or twenty, Jason didn’t know - but he did know he should turn the motor on and leave, instead of lurking in Tim’s driveway like a creep.

He smiled, finally turning the key. “It’s a date,” he said, turning up the radio real loud. There was no way he would sleep tonight; not with the way his heart was jumping in his throat just thinking about Monday.

[oxfordeliterp]

❝ Damn the exquisite measuring of depth.       take me away from the water;   i can no longer see my reflection from such a gruesome height.❞

Nicholas Mercer | twenty-three (III) | The Riot Club | Douglas Booth | taken

Nicholas is a series of uncertainties, but one thing has never been debatable about him — he is a sweet talker that could convince flowers to bloom with the sound of his voice and turn their leaves red with nervousness. He has always been known for it, charming and self-confident, winning over, one at a time, his whole middle school, two high schools that he changed in his Sophomore year and, soon the way he used to see it, the world. Because who could resist to an intelligent mind who knew how to smile as well? Yet, as soon as he got accepted into Oxford and met his colleagues, Nicholas faced the shock of his life: suddenly, he was no longer the only one with a witty remark on the top of his tongue. Suddenly, his light faltered as he looked around and realized that the sky was full of stars just like him, maybe even brighter. The boy who had been constantly told how special, how out of the ordinary and how irresistible he was finally met not only an equal, but dozens. The university was crawling with clones of him, sometimes even improved, for most had the funds and parental support impressed almost equally. For the first time in his life, Nick understood envy from the other side, for he was used to being the subject of others’. Yet, he didn’t give up. Although the thought of not being an original bothers him to this day, two to three years later, he is mostly pleased with himself: he has managed to get in the top ten best versions of the IT boy archetype. Taking it to the next level after getting to see the crème de la crème in action, he stepped up his own self expectations and became good according to the high society’s standards. But he isn’t just good, not the way he sees himself; he is a God and nothing can stay in the way of his dreams. The frustration regarding financial possibilities is still breaking his heart because he just knows that if he had these boys’ upbringings, he would have been the sun, not just a star, but he learned an alternative way of getting there. At first, it was strategically shot compliments at the ladies who came to eat in the restaurant he used to work as waiter in. The compliments became dates and he became a handsome resort for lonely rich women who found him so full of potential and delightful. This scheme only works for a limited amount of time, though, so he came up with a long term solution to his problem. Although he doesn’t want to marry so soon and especially in such circumstances, he is positive that it is the only safe way to immediately see himself in a manor after graduation, so the fishing has started. Despite him being the one pushing for it, he feels like it is him the one making the selection of who deserves to be the spoiled girl, lucky enough to have her minds to twisted by him and him to sweep her off her feet. He doesn't like to think about it, for the mere reminder of why he is doing it and the fact that he is blacken the walls of his brain and disappoint himself, because what happened to the boy who genuinely thought his only powers were enough to take over the world? Less idealistic and dreamy, but feeling repulsed staring at the bathroom mirror painting his own reflection, Nick doesn't know what this school has made of him and isn't entirely sure if it was the environment or simply the path he would have gone on out of his own initiative. He can't accept to have ruined himself and his integrity willingly, so he denies the very existence of his materialism and pretends to be genuine with every step in hopes that he would not only fool a stupid rich girl, but also the smart poor boy hiding in his shoes. He never meant to be so shallow and wicked, which is why if he wasn't handling it all with the biggest possible ray of confidence, he would be too disgusted to even lift his eyes from the ground. Coming home to his mother, the woman who adores him the most, without even the pretty words and batting of eyelashes flirtatiously, turned from the most expected event of the season into a burden, because he cannot look in the eyes of the woman who raised him and feel so impure about himself. Yet, he can't have it any other way, needing the Riot Club, needing the level of high life and the glimmer that comes with it all. No matter how intelligent and prepared in any sort of situation, the man can't seem to get off the burning train of taking advantage of his friends and apparent social title, because he has got acquainted with the spotlight and it caused him to become addicted. He can't seem to give up his plan and he needs it more than ever, because he can't afford not succeeding — though it is as true as the fact that he wants to come clean and become a decent man again that most of the times he asks himself why, realizing that all the people he knows are accomplished and rich because somebody from their family, at one point or another, was in Nick's shoes and chose success over integrity. He doesn't know what is more important to him, but, from the looks of it, he is leaning towards the temptation and needs financial balance even more than he wants it, which is enough to begin with, anyway.

Victoria de Terreros Nick isn’t a gold digger — he says — but a curious boy who finds it fascinating that somebody so out of the quotidian studies at the same university with him. That is what he tells himself to justify what of Victoria’s company is worth seeking, in order to feel better about taking interest in the girl just because she is a duchess. Yet, Victoria isn’t mature enough to realize where the line between genuine friendship and friendship based on interest can be crossed, which is why she can’t tell that she is being used for the nice ring her name has to it. She actually considers Nicholas to be quite a gentleman, and his company always makes her feel better, as the charming boy knows exactly what words to use to get under her skin… for no reason whatsoever. He is charming and dreamy and just like the unwritten book hero of her life. Alexandra Rossessen Alexandra is the only ones he couldn't possibly fake liking the company of. She might be younger than him by far, but it is not like he sees her as a potential target anyway. The two met as a result of her catching him lying and recognizing potential that looked just like what was lying inside her heart as well. The two hit it off rightaway and just as she is a little sister following him all the way to Oxford to him, Alexandra sees the big brother she never had and a shoulder to lean on in him, which is something she never had before and never imagined she would find, as she has always felt pretty different from everybody else and as if nobody deserves her friendship. Now, the two liars — one more at peace with her doings than the other — go out together, having teamed up and taking the lying game to a whole new level, even if they don't need fake identities to get into most of the parties and even if causing a staged scene eventually causes them to get kicked out of the club earlier than planned. It's entertaining and something both of them do to keep themselves away from becoming dusty. Lucas Lockwood Lucas doesn't know how he found somebody he can relate to as well as to Nicholas and, for that, he is grateful to have him as his best friend. He enjoys his company and doesn't even realize when he is paying for both their drinks — or, rather, he doesn't mind and care enough to ask why, which is the little tact he has, all coming into play for a platonic relationship rather than a person he is trying to impress. In fact, romantic interests matter too little to Lucas compared to his friendships and the loyalty he has towards the Riot Club in general. Nick can't say he agrees on that, no matter how much he enjoys the club and all of the perks that come with it, but he does care about Lucas right back, even though it all started as using him for a living wallet that wouldn't even realize some of the money went on things other than his own. Lana Chambers Instead of running away from her origins and pretending to be part of the game in the true sense of the word, Lana stands out being proud to be here on a scholarship, just because her mind is brilliant enough to deserve it. Nicholas doesn't understand it and little would he have cared about it and her if they didn't know each other, having grown up in the same town. What a small world we're living in. The young woman remembers him well — because how does one forget somebody like Nick? — but she is skeptical towards him just seeing his behavior and how he is trying to bury his roots as deeply as possible. Although it isn't something she is actively trying to achieve through manipulation of a sort, she wishes to have him exposed in front of his posh friends who, mostly, think he is as rich as they are, which is why, to him, she is the most dangerous person on campus and he resents her for the power she now has over him.