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baepsaesbae · 4 years

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Office Hours

Pairing— Kim Namjoon x female reader

Genre— Smut, pwp, college au

Warnings— Inappropriate student/professor relationship, fingering, spanking, oral (male), dirty talk

Word count— ~3k

Summary— You visit your professor’s office hours to seek some help

A/N— Happy Birthday Namjoon! Fun fact: this story was the first time I ever attempted to write smut. Huge thank you to @taemaknae for making this pretty banner for me! Enjoy~

It’s just for the grade. Just for the grade. The words paced back and forth across your mind in the same chaotic motions that your own emotions took on. You made your way up the steps of the history hall, towards Professor Kim’s office. All your nerves were hyper aware of the surrounding and each step was deafening, threatening to pop your eardrums. The nervousness of it all flushed your cheeks with a warm glow that slowly grew into an uncontrollable forest fire.

And then it all climaxed as you stood at the closed door of Professor Kim’s office. Your heart skipped and sputtered and protested, but you vowed to push onward. It was just a meeting with a professor. No biggie, you tried to reassure yourself.

But the little angel on your right shoulder (the one you had always ignored up until now), whispered in your ear about how you got yourself into this predicament. Y/n, the social butterfly and socialite-to-be, was, admittedly, a flirt. Of course, this had always gotten you into predicaments that often left more to be desired, but they always resolved themselves. Besides, if you couldn’t concoct a solution for yourself, your parents always helped out their little. They both came from money so old the corners of the bills were fraying. But this time was different; this time you bit off more than you could chew. This time your parents wouldn’t be there to bail you out.

It all started the same way as always: with you being the ever flamboyant ___ and locking your eyes on the target of your next fling. Professor Kim Namjoon was a young professor, one with the worn down charm of an old bike, and he had just started teaching at your university. His hair was dark and fell in delicate waves, and his face was charmingly disheveled by the cute glasses he always wears. You knew since the first day of class that he would be your newest toy, and what’s more? You were tired of the boys your age.

Now, you were here, three months later, facing the door that led to the mess you created. Just for a grade. Your shaky hand knocked a nervous knock, one that begged the person on the other side to not open the door.

“Come in,” you heard his voice from the other side of the door.

God dammit why did I do this to myself? you thought. Although you had been quite flirty with Professor Kim ever since the semester started, any romantic interactions with him had all been just a fantasy. Well, romantic OR sexual interactions.

You put on your best smile in an attempt of exuding false confidence before opening the door. Once inside the office, you locked eyes with Professor Kim. He was wearing a light blue button up shirt with a cute tie that had a colorful paisley pattern. His black glasses were simple but only added to his charm. You began to wonder who chose the tie, whether it was him or maybe a significant other when your train of thought was interrupted.

“Ah, Miss ___. How are you? I assume you’re here to ask about the final paper? Please, sit down,” Professor Kim flashed you a smile. It was the type of smile that would have women of all ages swooning.

“Ah yes! I uh, have a rough draft that I wanted to review with you. If you have the time. I’m not sure if I’m addressing the prompt properly. I think I had an issue with that on the last essay,” you began to explain.

“Of course we can do that. Office hours are specifically set aside for students anyway. Whether that be for academic purposes or...other things…” his voice suddenly got lower and dropped off before he continued with his usual cadence, “Anywho, let’s take a look at your paper!”

You nodded and tried not to pay any mind to his odd remark. You chalked it up to him just not knowing how to end his sentence. You whipped out a printed rough draft and slid it over to Professor Kim. You found it more beneficial to make revisions on physical paper. You both sat in silence as he began to read your essay.

After what felt like the larger portion of a decade, Professor Kim’s eyes rose from the paper to meet yours, and they were murky with a mixture of amusement and something a bit darker. Your heart skipped as you scanned the dark brown pools for confirmation that what you had read in his eyes was a brewing lust.

“Miss ___, you have a fine craft for writing history papers don’t you?” his lips tugged at the corners into a charming half grin, “Have you written anyone’s papers for them for profit?”

You let out a breathy laugh that betrayed your false confidence, “Um, sir?”

He chuckled, “Just messing with ya. Lighten up, Miss ___.”

Again, you let out a breathy laugh and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, an annoying habit you had picked up when you were nervous (though it was rare anyone ever saw you nervous).

“S-sorry, sir,” you wanted to kick yourself for being such a wuss in front of him. I am ___, and I’m not supposed to lose my nerves!

Before you could collect your feelings, you felt your heart chase up your throat when Professor Kim suddenly leaned in and the distance between you two went from close to very close. You could smell the light musk of his cologne, a lovely scent that folded itself into a strange warmth in your chest. Perhaps it was Aqua di Gio? A man of taste, you noted to yourself.

“You’re quite the social butterfly in lecture, and yet here you are stuttering,” he chuckled, his eyes betrayed nothing except a shadow of lust. You could almost see your own nestled desire in your reflection on his glasses. “Tell me, ___. Why are you really here? Surely, an excellent writer like yourself wouldn’t need my guidance on such an elementary paper?”

As if his direct confrontation wasn’t enough to send you into a frenzy, Namjoon’s hand shot out to tap the tip of your nose teasingly. You felt your lips part, in an unconscious expectation for him to run his fingers along them. He didn’t, but you could hear him chuckle again.

“I’m not quite sure,” you spoke, and as you continued to speak, you felt your confidence- your real confidence- sink back in, “I just thought it would be...entertaining. One for the books?” You even allowed a single eyebrow to make its way up, challenging him.

Professor Kim leaned in even closer, until his lips almost (but not quite) brushed your ear, “Go make sure the door is locked, Miss ___.” His breath was warm, and the musk of his cologne grew stronger, caressing you invitingly, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to reject it.

Slowly, you stood up from your seat to the door before turning the lock with a quick, deliberate movement. Your breath came in quick bursts, your legs pressed together tightly as you made your way back to the desk, and, for the first time since entering his office, your face slowly cracked into a slight, sly smile.

Professor Kim was leaning back in his chair, as if the situation hadn’t taken a turn at all. His calm demeanor put you on edge, especially when he beckoned you over to him with one finger. You arched a brow and smirked at his boldness, but nonetheless made your way to him. Raising the stakes, you plopped into his lap, straddling one of his thighs.

“Did I say sit down, Miss ___?” Professor Kim’s voice was deeper now, and the light aura about him had vanished.

You were taken by surprise and didn’t know how to react. Before you could reply, Professor Kim leaned in to whisper in your ear, “From now on, you'll do as you’re told, understand? Only good girls get rewarded.”

That sent chills down your spine. All the boys that you’ve been with before had tried to put on a dominant act. Some of them were more convincing than others, but none of them were as authentic as this. Your excitement grew and you became cheeky because of it.

“What if I wanna be a bad girl?” you teased, trying to place a kiss on Professor Kim’s neck.

“Then you can get the fuck out of my office,” Professor Kim said abruptly, and pushed you off his lap. Stumbling backwards before running into the desk, you were shocked again. You realized you had never met anyone like Kim Namjoon before, and he wasn’t going to put up with your antics. You were helplessly at his mercy, and you couldn’t be more turned on.

“Turn around and bend over,” Professor Kim commanded with a new edge to his voice. You did as you were told, thanking god that you chose to wear a seemingly innocent dress with red lacy underwear that day. From Namjoon’s angle, you were sure he could see everything. You heard Professor Kim click his tongue as he got up from his chair. He leaned over you and whispered into your ear, “You’re such a naughty thing. You think I don’t notice the skimpy outfits you wear to class? All the innocent little bends you do when you ‘accidentally’ drop something? I think I’m going to have to discipline you to act properly in class. I will not be disrespected in my own classroom, do you understand? Outside of class, however, you can act however you please.”

“Yes Professor Kim. Punish me however you like,” you decided to play along looking back at him with a smile. The smile didn’t last for long, as you felt a hard slap on your ass that stung like hell. You let out a loud gasp.

“I’m not playing around. I’ll be the one calling the shots, Miss ___. You can call me ‘Sir’ from now on, Professor Kim is too long, it’ll be hard to scream it out later,” Professor Kim landed another hard blow on your ass. You let out another whimper. Usually, you love getting your ass slapped, but no one has ever done it like this before. A few seconds pass another slap echoed throughout the room. The pain was starting to mix with pleasure.

“You didn’t answer me, Miss ___. I do not like being ignored,” Professor Kim admonished.

“I’m sorry, sir. Yes sir you will be calling the shots from now on,” you quickly responded. As good as the spanks were starting to feel, you would have preferred a more tender touch.

“Good girl. What do you want me to do now? You want me to touch you?” Professor Kim said with a deep sultry voice. His voice alone had you soaking through your panties. All you could do was whine in response and sway your hips in Namjoon’s direction. Namjoon chuckled at your reaction as he slipped off your panties.

“Already so wet for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet. Is this what you’ve been wanting all semester?” Professor Kim questioned.

“Yes, oh my god yes. Please sir, just touch me already!” you couldn’t help but cry out; you were dying from the anticipation. Without warning, you felt your professor rubbing your clit in circular motions. The sensation was pleasurable but left you wanting more. Moaning, you tried to push your hips closer to Professor Kim.

“Oh you want more? This isn’t good enough?” Professor Kim teased, slipping a finger into you. You gasped at the feeling, as Professor Kim pumped in and out of you slowly. Professor Kim took note at how easily he slipped his finger inside, as you were dripping for him.

“Do you think you can handle two fingers, princess?” Professor Kim asked, keeping his pace agonizingly slow.

“Please! Please I need more,” you begged.

“What a greedy girl,” Professor Kim growled, adding another finger in. His pace quickened at an alarming rate, curling his fingers at just the right spot. With each pump, he hit your sweet spot and soon you was having a hard time keeping quiet. Your whimpers turned into moans that were mixed in with your increasing panting. Namjoon listened to you and took your rapid panting as a signal to go faster.

“Oh my fuck. Oh god. Yes, right there,” you moaned out as you were reaching your climax.

“Do you deserve to cum?” Professor Kim asked without slowing his pace.

“Yes sir PLEASE I’m gonna- ahhhhh,” your body jerked involuntarily as waves of pleasure coursed throughout your entire body. Despite your cries, Professor Kim kept up the same pace, helping you ride out your orgasm. Afterwards, Professor Kim helped you into his chair. You looked up innocently at him before sweetly saying, “I’m ready for round 2, sir.”

Namjoon, who stood over you in his towering stature, allowed his face to betray a grin of delight, and he leaned in, placing a hand on each side of the arm rests. You didn’t even flinch as Namjoon established a dominating stance, but rather you teasingly leaned in and pressed your lips to his neck, just below his jaw.

This motion elicited a soft growl from Namjoon, and he grabbed you by the arms and gently pulled you up from the chair. His face was beginning to lose the structure and reserved nature that it had been carefully maintaining, and his eyes became dark with greed and lust. He loosened his button up from its tucked state in his trousers before beginning to undo the belt.

You caught on quickly with what he was about to do, and you took a kneeling position on the carpet. You looked up at him expectantly with your signature devious smile, and you were surprised at how pleased he was when his eyes narrowed in response.

“Look at you, Miss ___. Keep smiling cos in a few minutes you won’t be,” he threatened, “I’m going to shut that dirty mouth of yours up. God, your lips were meant to do that weren’t they?” He reached down and roughly moved his thumb over your plump, parted lips.

Namjoon finished up undoing his trousers, and he finally said, “Open your mouth, Miss ___.”

You obeyed without a word this time, because for some reason you were so eager to see his face wrinkle in pleasure. There was this burning need to please him that you had never felt in any other lukewarm hookup you had previously. Namjoon gently released his erection, and you were left to admire its length. But before too long, he slipped into your open mouth, and you could feel its warmth and texture. Experience kicked in, and your hands moved expertly over his erection. Your tongue played at his tip, and you watched as his face that was always so charming yet reserved crumpled into one of sheer pleasure.

You couldn’t help but smile as your mouth moved along his cock, and Namjoon responded by growling through quick breaths, “God, your mouth feels so good, princess. Keep going.” His hand became entangled into your locks, and he held your hair up to ease your movements. The ego boost of knowing you had this effect on him was a catalyst for you to speed up.

In response, Professor Kim groaned under his breath, and as your pace picked up, his hips began rhythmically moving along with you, driving his erection deeper into your mouth. Your own heart was racing as you felt him nearing his climax, and your face was warm as you felt the wetness from your mouth spilling onto your chin. You felt Namjoon’s grip on your hair tighten as he began to cum, releasing himself into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, as you continued your motions, his body sending rhythmic waves from his release. Through his heavy breathing Namjoon managed to command you, “Swallow.” Finally, he pulled out of your mouth and leaned over you, giving you several light smacks on your cheeks. His lips found yours, and you felt his kisses all over your chin, neck, and cheeks before traveling back to your lips. In that moment, your desire almost toppled over because there wasn’t enough skin, enough spit, or enough of him.

You giggled under his lips, and closed your eyes from the pleasure of his light smacks again. Namjoon then stood up and fixed himself, as much as he could after receiving such marvelous head, and then addressed you again, in a more collected voice, “What do you say, Miss ___?”

“Thank you for cumming in my mouth, sir,” you responded promptly.

He arched an eyebrow, “Getting cheeky are we? If it weren’t for the end of my office hours I would’ve fucked you so hard it would knock that smile of yours off your pretty face.”

You pouted playfully, but there was a sense of urgency as you realized this might be all you would be getting from him, “Are you sure you can’t extend your hours?”

Namjoon smiled amusedly, his face carefully composed again. You knew then that he had the upper hand, and even though you were always used to being the flirt, the girl with men wrapped around Tiffany clad fingers, you yielded control to him.

“I believe your essay could use some extra guidance a different day,” he answered pointedly, “Oh, and Miss ___?”

“Yes, sir?” you perked up at his change in tone.

He tossed you a handkerchief from his trousers, “Clean up a little. We wouldn’t want our little secret out and about would we?”

#bts smut #kim namjoon smut #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #namjoon pwp #kpop fanfic #namjoon x reader #bayanihanboost #bts fanfic

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zeldareyesblog · 3 years

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Bayonetta 2: The Controversial Witch Trials

**This was a responsive essay that I had written back in February 24, 2020 and revised on March 1st, 2020 for “Introduction to Composition” college class. Yes, I got an A+ on this.**

Bayonetta 2: The Controversial Witch Trials

In Giuseppe Nelva’s article, “Bayonetta 2’s “Over-Sexualization” Complaint: A Perfect Example of What’s Wrong with Modern Reviews”, I found the reviews of the game to be unfair because Bayonetta 2 was judged based on the amount of provocative imagery it contained rather than Platinum Games’ improvement from the first Bayonetta’s gameplay, mechanics, and creative execution. Nelva’s concerns were the same as mine because we believed that no videogame should be judged by the amount of controversial content it has. Instead, video games should be judged if the video game’s creators have exceeded beyond expectations to entertain the players.

Video game reviewers are needed to help companies like Platinum Games improve their work ethic, so that the next video game they make from that specific series would not feature the same issues again. However, we have big video game reviewers like Polygon, who has judged this video game based on its “blatant over-sexualization” rather than Bayonetta 2 game’s execution as quoted from article, “I won’t guess why the blatant over-sexualization is still there, often more intensely than before. But it causes an otherwise great game to require a much bigger mental compromise to enjoy.” Even though a 7.5 out 10 would not be considered an awful rating for Bayonetta 2, it deserved more than that and it also deserved a more objective review rather than a subjective review despite the obvious adult content mentioned by Polygon’s throughout most of the review. While Bayonetta 2 did include sexual themes and references throughout the franchise and characters as much as strong language and violence is concerned, should it be used to solely judge the merits of a videogame? What if the creators of Bayonetta 2 intentionally put the controversial content there to show how our virtuous boundaries could be broken under harsh circumstances, but can still become a strong, wise, and beautiful person against all odds?

To be honest though, I did understand that when my mother and I bought this video game from GameStop just last year during the holiday semester break as my New Year’s Eve present when I was 19 years old, she and I were both already aware of the content. Such as female characters being portrayed in a sexualized manner with extremely exaggerated proportions displayed in tight-fitting suits while in combat. There were also female characters being stripped of those suits for a brief amount of time to summon “infernal demons” as an aid in combat for huger enemies until their wicked weaves covered their private parts, and the innuendos spoken while the female characters interact with male characters in advance. However, the reason my mother approved of me playing that game, regardless of the adult content, was because she took her time to educate me about such content prior to succeeding my first semester in college. Because of our mother-daughter conversations, it was still pointless to judge the game based on its own provocative content and more on how it has executed itself as an entertainment medium as a result. Unlike most parents that I met who let my friends play M-rated video games before they completed their secondary education and reached the appropriate age, my mother never let me play any M-rated game until I completed my secondary education and when I reached the appropriate age of 17 years old or older according to the Entertainment Ratings Software Board (ESRB) guidelines because she believed that proper education and parental guidance would develop a real sense of maturity and high tolerance on all adult content that I would be exposed to in the future and she was right about that.

Furthermore, when I compared my now adult self to the friends that played a variety of M-rated videogames while they were underaged and still in middle school a very long time ago, I remembered that they were complete hyperactive chatterboxes to the point of aggravation, became more aggressive in their gaming habits and personalities, and even learned new curse words that I have never even heard before. When it came to sexually suggestive content in mature-rated video games, my old middle school friends did not seem to process that kind of content in a composed and civilized manner which resulted in them having some misogynistic and judgmental views of women, especially fictional video game women like Bayonetta who had self-confidence on and off the battlefield and remained fearless in her sexuality and beauty. Although, I did not blame M-rated video games alone because I knew that it was obviously the parents who enabled their underaged children to play those mature-rated video games since they were impatient and did not take the time to teach their kids about what kind of content they could be getting themselves into if they bought the game no matter how entertaining it was, and why they should not expose themselves to it until they are at the appropriate age anyways.

Moving on, Nelva has mentioned in his article that “What should be reflected, first and foremost, in a review’s content and in its score is the game’s quality, and while several aspects of “quality” are subjective, there are also many that aren’t. Production values are an example: graphics, animation, audio, textures, effects; Those are objective aspects of a game’s value that should not be overlooked.” As somebody that has owned and played this video game series, in my perspective I think that Bayonetta 2 has exceeded expectations from the Bayonetta 1 when it came to smooth gameplay mechanics – being able to reduce the amount of constant button pressing to fully complete charging attacks. Not only that, but Platinum Games has provided extra abilities for players such as giving Bayonetta the ability to glide on higher platforms with her Madama Butterfly Wings after jumping upwards and a variety of random “hack and slash” combo attacks on all bosses and mini bosses that will leave the players in suspense on what Bayonetta would do next, and included online gameplay levels and offline quests that challenge the players’ skills after completion of the story mode. The graphics and textures of Bayonetta 2 were beautifully executed to even reach cinematic levels of gaming throughout cutscenes and gameplay with the camera angles strategically displayed on the entire environment, and used closeups appropriately on the characters to present details on their unusual cosmetic makeup, clothing designs, and accessories as the characters communicated with each other. As for audio, the music soundtrack provided a mysterious, foreboding, yet epic emotions that could keep all players on edge and interested in the story mode. Furthermore, the dialogue between the characters was uniquely portrayed and ranged from what strong, young women and men would realistically say or react if they had encountered any enemies based on their three-dimensional personalities. If videogame players were tight on budget to own a headset, they could still experience the same amount of interactive and immersive fantasy-adventure gaming that Bayonetta 2 has provided as an entertainment product that would keep the players entertained for many years to come.

That objective review I made would convince so many young adult audiences to play Bayonetta 2. Eventually, it would have gained plenty of new fans to move this game up the ranks from being stuck in the “under rated” games category to gain widespread popularity. Never had I put in my own opinion on Bayonetta 2’s provocative content, because I know that judging a game based on what kind of adult material it had was not my job as a reviewer and I already assumed that my audience knows better what kind of material they would get themselves into before buying the game to begin with.

What amazed me now was how the world wanted to showcase diversity and promote less censorship in the entertainment industry. Although, once we get what we asked for there are a lot of negative people out there on the internet that make so-called entertainment reviews to talk about how the characters in a television show, movie, or videogame do not fit their own beliefs. According to Nelva, “It saddens me that between the many calls for diversity we’ve seen lately, some actually fly in the face of diversity itself by implying that games that celebrate sexuality and beauty like Bayonetta 2 should not exist or are not worth playing and enjoying.” This quote was a reminder to me that I should not judge any video game based on the number of suggestive themes it contains, but if it exceeded my expectations on quality video game entertainment.

Overall, I believed that Bayonetta 2 was a compelling video game that unfortunately received a bad reputation since huge video game reviewers like Polygon judged this video game based on the amount of provocative content it contained rather than the actual gameplay and creative execution itself. The creators behind Bayonetta 2 were considered artists because they told a narrative story and designed characters beyond our own imagination and made money from our fascination in this fantasy, action, and adventure game. Besides that, the purpose of video games was to provide another form of quality entertainment that all young adult audiences could enjoy at their own leisure time and Bayonetta 2 would have been one of those videogames if we had better reviewers that judged it based on gameplay and performance, instead of content.

Works Cited

Nelva, Giuseppe. “Bayonetta 2's ‘Over-Sexualization’ Complaint: A Perfect Example of What's Wrong with Modern Reviews.” DualShockers, DualShockers, 17 Oct. 2014, www.dualshockers.com/bayonetta-2s-over-sexualization-complaint-a-perfect-example-of-whats-wrong-with-modern-reviews/.

#bayonetta #bayonetta2 #nintendo #sega #platinum games #video games #videogame #college #composition #essay #college essay

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cherrywoes · 4 years

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— 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊.

— 𝓭𝓾𝓵𝓬𝓮 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓾𝓵𝓾𝓶.

"SO, WHAT DO YOU think?" Your friend's voice was drowned out by the music blasting from the speakers. Neon lights pulsed to the bass of Chase Atlantic's "Swim", a song that had been put into your playlist only recently. "Cool, right?"

You reached up and adjusted the neck of your shirt. "Yeah, a bit cold though—are all strip clubs like this?"

When you had accepted the job to make some extra cash to squeeze you through the last semester of college, it had been a no brainer. The Valeria was one of the most prominent clubs in Eden, frequented by both angels and demons alike, contrary to what your adopted parents had told you when you were nineteen. You lucked out with your best friend being the owner of the establishment.

"Yeah, the cold keeps people from getting sleepy and wanting to go home which, in turn, encourages them to spend more money." Kiyoko shrugged and you laughed at her nonchalant tone. "Anyway, the girls are rehearsing before the night starts. There's a fight club down the street and a lot of the fighters like to pop in when their adrenaline's high."

"I bet it doesn't hurt that some of them won cash," you joked lightly. "Devils or angels?"

"Both. Just keep an eye out for our regulars. Lev will point them out to you." Kiyoko pointed to the desk manager who, even from your distance, seemed to be a lanky giant. He waved when you looked over. "He's harmless. A bit tone deaf, but harmless. If you ever need help just go to him."

"Gotcha." You waved back tentatively and looked to the stage where girls were practicing and laughing. "So, do I go over there or…?"

Kiyoko shook her head and pointed to the bar. "No, I'm starting you off at the bar. You were a pretty good bartender from what I remember so you can do what you're familiar with."

Your relief was palpable. "Thanks, Kiyoko. I don't think dancing is what I'm good at anyway."

"You're welcome. Let me know if you want to back out, okay?" She crossed her arms. "A lot of the customers can be a bit… much."

"It's okay, I've dealt with rude customers before," you reassured her. "I'll just be making drinks right?"

"Yeah, but the uniform is pretty revealing. Just be careful."

Kiyoko wasn't lying. When she finally left you to get ready, you discovered the level of skimpiness with your own eyes.

It was, in a sense, just a plain black bikini with a crystal body harness for taste. That might not have been so bad if it hadn't been made deliberately a size too small and threatened to show your assets if you even breathed wrong. While the body harness was flattering to your curves, you couldn't help but be nervous by the amount of skin you were showing.

Paired with black strappy heels, you looked like you had stepped right out of a Maxim magazine. That was probably what Kiyoko had intended.

With a sigh, you exited the bathroom and headed towards the bar. Lev flagged you down before you could get there, though, and curious, you approached him, an unintentional sway in your step from the heels.

"Hey, [Name]! I'm Lev, nice to meet you." He offered his hand and you shook it, afraid to be seen as rude if you didn't. "Kiyoko forgot to give you your ID so I dug one out from the storage room. Don't lose it."

He handed you a lanyard with a plastic card on it. It was a generic identification card with nothing special about it, except your name taped to the top part on a sticker.

"Thanks." Lev smiled at you and you couldn't help but notice the peculiar color of his eyes and hair. "If it's okay to ask, Lev, are you…?"

"Human? Nope." He snickered at the look on your face. "Don't look so scared, it's fine. I'm a devil. Kiyoko recruited me when fighting didn't pan out for me."

"So that's common among your… kind?" This was all so new to you. You reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Lev tracked the movement idly, as if he couldn't help it. "Fighting, I mean."

"Yeah. Devils are notorious for their high tempers," he explained. "Fighting usually helps that. Or sex, but that's a personal preference. You might get propositioned a few times but that's normal."

"I see." You rubbed your elbows and rocked back on your heels. "Is there anything I should be worried about?"

"Not really. Just stay away from the Aoba Johsai devils if you can. They're pretty obvious and travel in a tight knit group. The only trustworthy person in it is Iwaizumi Hajime, I'd say, so you can serve him." Lev shrugged. "Though he's not coming in on your shift. There's a lot of fights going on tonight."

"Okay. Thanks, Lev."

"No problem."

Your first night as bartender went without a hitch, unless you counted the few guys who hit on you every chance they got. It wasn't rowdy, which you assumed was from the fights going on, and you managed to clock out with a decent paycheck and a tiredness that was seeping into your bones.

As you walked out the front doors, waving goodbye to Lev—he seemed nice enough, regardless, and you needed new friends in Eden now that you were taking online classes—you stepped out into what you could only guess was the line to the fight club.

It ran almost two blocks, people wearing unusual chic clothes to watch someone's face get beaten in. The line consisted primarily of girls, you noticed, and adjusted the straps of your gym bag on your shoulder.

You prepared to turn on your heel and head to your apartment in North Eden, where the humans lived, when something told you to turn around and check out the fight club. It wasn't as if you had anything to do at the moment, and your classes had been delayed for next week due to the school's security issues. You would be bored out of your mind at home, you knew, but you side eyed the line and the multiple people lining it.

Maybe not…

"You must be [Name]."

You jumped in fright when the doors opened behind you. Reflexively, you made a first, but when you saw the familiar face of the girl who had been on stage, you sighed in relief. "Sorry. I'm just jumpy."

"That's fine." She smiled to reveal perfect white teeth. Her hair made you sick with envy; long, auburn curls that dangled down to her hips in thick ringlets. "I'm Lulu. I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself inside."

"No, no it's okay. You were practicing." You smiled in return. Then, you pointed to the line of people. "Are they always this long?"

"To Yulara?" Lulu inquired. "Yeah. The lines depend on the fighters. They have an elite lineup tonight. Why? Did you want to go?"

She took the sheepish expression that crawled over your face as an affirmative.

"Alright. Come on." Lulu linked her arm through yours and, with little difficulty, began skipping through the line. People parted like the dead sea for her and you were just dragged along for the ride. "I'll get you in. Consider it a welcome gift!"

"Are you sure we should be skipping these people?"

"Of course. We work at Valeria; we have VIP passes," Lulu replied cheerfully. At the front of the line was a bouncer dutifully checking people in and stamping their wrists with ultraviolet ink. "Hey, Aone! This is [Name]. She's new and wanted to see the fights."

You expected him to be suspicious of you. He was quite intimidating, eyes narrowed and his height did nothing but terrify you. Instead, with a quick movement, he marked your wrist and sent you inside.

Lulu grinned. "Thanks, Aone. I'll see you when I get home."

Bewildered, you glanced between her and the now blushing male, then back to Lulu. She shrugged and put a finger over her lips. You mimed zipping yours in response.

Lulu escorted you down a flight of stairs that led into a wide open room filled with people. In the center was a circle of wire and fence, keeping what looked like a pit closed off. You could only guess that's where there were people fighting.

"This is where I leave you." She patted your back. "Have fun! Don't drink the wine though, people always roofie it before the fights start."

"Oh. Okay." You smiled. "Thanks again."

"No problem." With a wave she retreated back up the stairs.

You took a deep breath and looked back towards the ring, your curiosity taking over. Clutching your gym bag, you began to pave your way through the crowd, unaware of the familiar face flashing across an LED screen over the door.

MASTERLIST.

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everydayanth · 5 years

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Academic Elitism: an institutional issue

Sorry for being so rant-y lately, but the elitism of university has been a problem for me from the exact moment I accepted my scholarship with a signature and a handshake in high school. (The scholarship was later revoked due to state up-fuckery, but that’s another story, and I was already in too deep by the time they told me).

My parent’s house was only an hour north, my younger sister had already claimed my room, but I was excited. I was in the furthest dorm building, because that’s where the scholarship kids went, it was like a poor kid diversity hall, every few doors was someone from a completely different background, but we were all poor except our Swedish RA, and there was an odd pride in that. We all had various scholarships: robotics, dance team, nerds like me, etc. (not the football or hockey athletes though, they had their own dorm next to the library for... reasons, lol).

But being the last hall, it wasn’t actually full, most of us had entire rooms to ourselves, often whole suites; our hall was co-ed, but rooms were only occupied at every-other, staggered down the corridor. Only the front two halls were used, the back two closed off for construction or codes or something. We had to hike up the hill for dining halls, which was fine until snowdays that shut the whole campus down (and I mean west Michigan ones, with 4+ feet of powder and ice underneath). I had an old computer my dad got me for graduation and I didn’t know it was old until my peers started calling it a dinosaur. I had to use the library computers to write and print papers, and most places I went, I ran into the other scholarship kids. We didn’t talk much, just a head bob here and there, awareness at our similarities and an annoyed spite at being thrown together this way. It was lonely for everyone.

I had a purple flip phone I’d gotten only that calendar year (2009) and was still learning to text with (abbreviations? instant messaging? what?). My roommate had come down from Alaska to live near her dad, we’d talked in the summer, but I never saw her. I moved my things in and her stuff was on her side, I texted her about going to turn in paperwork and when I came back, there was a note on my bed and all her things were gone, she couldn’t do it, had never been away from home for even a night. She left a few mismatched socks and a bag of junk pens that I resented for years.

Social media was mostly a way to talk to people across campus and exchange homework and party times/locations. We posted over-edited photos of our food and still jogged with our mp3 players and ipods. But within two years, I had to trade in my computer three times and upgrade to a smartphone to keep up with the expectations of communication. Professors would cancel classes by emails an hour out, and if I was on campus, I simply didn’t get the message, running between classes with 19 credit hours and three jobs. Work would call in or cancel my appointments (tutoring) and I needed to be able to communicate at the rate of my peers, so though it wasn’t something we could easily afford, my parents let me get the smartphone and my dad helped me find computers that could keep up with writing papers and researching without having to go to the lab, which saved so much time.

There was little understanding for my suffering. I didn’t have a car, I had to call my parents and organize a time to get home or take the train which was more expensive than waiting around on an empty campus. They were often things that even the wealthiest students had to deal with, but there were so much more of them for us, more stress, more problems, more solutions, more consequences, and in some ways, more determination.

I spent plenty of breaks holed up in my room, but when the swine flu/H1N1 outbreak happened, guess where they quarantined students?

In our hall.

Not the back one that was closed. In the room attached to my suite.

After half a semester alone, suddenly strangers shared my bathroom. I never saw them, I would just hear the formidable click of the bathroom lock followed by the shower. A week later I got a blue half-sheet note in my mailbox about quarantines. The other kids were as pissed off, as we watched kids escorted in with blue masks and were told to just get cleaning wipes from the front desk –they ran out in a week.

We were the recyclable students, brought in to trade scholarships for university grade averages. Many of my friends were struggling with scholarship qualifications and gpas (which only encouraged my continual obsessive perfectionism and involvement).

We were expendable.

I didn’t understand the elitism then, or I did, but I’d twisted it in my head from years tossed between private and public schools. I was an invader, I wasn’t supposed to be there, but I wanted to be. I understood that I didn’t deserve it, that I had to work harder to stay. I completed Master’s coursework for my Bachelor’s degree, finishing two BA programs (anthropology and English: creative writing) and 2 minor programs in philosophy and world lit, lead several campus groups and volunteered with honor’s societies. I spent hours on campus every day, running home just to go to one job or the other. I slept about four hours a night and I still romanticize it because I loved it. And I was good at it. It was a closed system, easy to infiltrate, easy to watch and observe and follow, to feel protected from the world, but there were always ways that I came up short.

I didn’t have leggings or Northface fleeces or Ugg boots or name brand anything (except a pair of converse I got in 8th grade from my Babcia). I had old high school sweats and soccer shirts, hand-me-down clothes from sisters and cousins that mix-matched a style I thought was unique but I now understand screamed I don’t really belong here. Example: I went to propose an independent study to a professor I really admired and I panicked about what to wear. I still cringe at the memory, gahhhhhh, but I pulled on what I thought was a decent dress because it had no rips or stains or tears and though I’d picked it up from a clearance rack, it was the newest thing and therefore the best. But in retrospect, it was definitely a “party” dress, I grabbed a sweater, hoop earrings that had always been beautiful in my neighborhood, and heels I never wore otherwise, and presented my idea. This old professor was just like “um...did you dress up for me?” Clearly spooked by red flags and I realized my mistake. Saved by quick thinking I clarified “no, I have a presentation later,” and being a familiar face in the social sciences department, I let him assume I was dressed up as something. I just went in my sweats and t-shirts after that, got a haircut that tamed the wavy frizz and learned the importance of muted tones, cardigans, and flats.

I made a lot of interesting friends in the process, people who also stuck out from the American Academic culture: exchange students, older (non-traditional) students, rebels, and other poor kids. But that also meant that we all evolved during our time there, so friendship was quick and fleeting as we adapted or dropped out or remained oblivious, lost in our studies and dreams of changing the world or our lives.

I had no idea how to approach the dining halls because I could only afford the bronze plan that was included with my room+board scholarship. I could enter the hall ten times per week, with four included passes to the after-hours carry-out (this was an upgrade from the free high school lunch I was coming from). I met other kids on this plan and their dorm rooms had fridges and microwaves and shelves of ramen and mac’n’cheese. Mine was sparse, my fridge had jugs of water from the filtered tap in the common room, and though it had a shared kitchenette, it always smelled bad or was being used and the nearest grocery store was Meijers which was a 15-20 minute drive from campus. I used so much energy dividing up my meals and figuring out how to sneak food from the hall for later or just learn to not eat, which is another story involving malnutrition, broken bones, and the American Healthcare System.

We like to summarize the college experience with fond struggles. I went back to my old high school to watch my younger sisters’ marching band competition that first year (it’s MI, and they were good). My old art teacher (not much older than we were but she felt so much older at the time, also her maiden name was Erickson and so was her fiance’s so she didn’t “change” her name and that blows my mind to this day), anyway, she stopped me to ask how school was going, and I was not prepared to be recognized in anyway and stammered out something like “oh, yeah, stressful. Fun, cool, yeah,” like the eloquent well-educated student I was. And she said, “oh, I loved it, don’t you love it? Everything’s so charming, and being poor? Oh man, it’s hard for a while, but it’s so good to go through.”

I was dumbfounded at her reference to poverty as a thing to go through when you’re a student. I again had to remember that I was infiltrating places where people weren’t just marginally more well-off than I was, but far beyond, in a place where they couldn’t comprehend an alternative, couldn’t conceive of surviving poverty, of not having a reliable place to fall if you mess up, parents who couldn’t support you if things went wrong, who couldn’t save you from having to drop out if scholarships were canceled because the money just wasn’t there.

Talking with my parents never worked, and I recently found this video by The Financial Diet about Boomer shame in being poor, where many Millennials were united by it and it was #relatable. But all this is to say that there are so many layers and ways we develop in higher education that are often overlooked by the romantic nostalgia of the elite expectation. What we demand from education vs. what it offers us in return is rarely equal for students coming from poverty, and it starts with that first sacrifice of looking at money and deciding it has to be worth it to do something bigger, and that education is a necessary piece of that goal.

Now I live near Brown University, I’ve been to Harvard when we lived in Boston and recently took a trip to Yale with bold expectations. I am friends with several people who work at these places and I hear the same things: so many students are in a place where their obsessions are considered more important than the larger world, an argument that Shakespeare is a woman is more important to prove than the greater issues of sexism in society as a whole, while others are trained to look at data and the world as a pocketable fact-book, going to conferences and week-long summits and then off to D.C. to make important decisions about places they’ve never been to, for people they’ve never met, about problems they’ve never experienced.

It’s not new. It’s not romantic. It’s not nostalgic. It’s just sick.

I was horrified at New Haven. I have read so many social science reports and papers and experiments and academic bullshit that has come from professors at Yale with a big badge of ivy-league validation. So much of this research was focused on homelessness and culture clash and socio-economics in America, as that was my “dissertation” that got me discounted master’s classes for my BA in Anthropology. Anyway, my point was that I thought this noble, proud university that put out so much research was going to be situated in something of a utopia, where their research is put into practice. Obviously, I was wrong, but I didn’t expect how wrong. (I had also started reading Leigh Bardugo’s Ninth House, so... there’s another thing).

My observations were validated by employees of ivy-league schools, who have watched over the past 2 decades as they grow more and more reclusive, hiding away from the public except through a few, probably well-intentioned, outstretched hands that do little to contribute to the world outside the university itself. These ivory towers are built by poaching: environments, observations, resources, research, and yeah, even students.

I love academia. I will sit in a library for hours just pulling down tomes (and putting them back in their proper locations like a dork) and drawing connections just for fun. But right now, I’m a bit bitter and spiteful and angry.

When something like Coronavirus sneaks up on us, we have a tendency to throw the most expendable people under the bus as quickly as we can, and all I can think about is my shadow of a suite-mate sneezing and coughing with swine flu for two weeks, at how I refused to use my own bathroom and listened to my hall-mates’ advice about showering at the rec center a mile away as we all collectively locked our bathroom doors and were left there by the university to get sick without insurance to help with any foreseeable costs.

It’s not the same now, they’ve rebuilt the entire section of the campus, it’s odd to see it, I wonder where they put the expendable kids. Or maybe they don’t accept them anymore. I’ve worked in college admissions since then, and it is a scary industry of politics and preference and hidden quotas and image-agendas. Not all schools are industry monsters, but when you’re expendable, they sure do feel like it, whether you graduate summa cum laude with two degrees, six awards, and five tasseled ropes around your neck or not.

I wish I had a positive message. I wish I was in a place to help people who feel expendable or like they can’t keep up with communications because of technology or language or network or environment. But I don’t have much right now. For all its posturing and linear progression, academia needs to create profit. All I can do is yell about this existing.

If you are feeling expandable in university, I can tell you you’re not alone. I can let you rant about all the small ways your peers don’t get it, whether its an accent they shit on or ceremonies you don’t have the right clothes for or textbooks you share with a friend to cut costs but then they hoard them. I can relate to you about guilt and that sneaking panic that fills you with anxiety at night as you question yourself and wonder if it’s worth it at all, if it’s necessary, if it’s okay to be expendable to follow something that feels bigger. I can validate your doubt and tell you that you’re not actually expendable, you’re a bridge.

I’m sorry it still works like this. I wish we figured out how to change it by now, I wish I had secret shortcuts to tell you about, that there was more accountability or hope, but I’m not seeing it lately. I hope you do. <3

#academia #anthropology #sociology #university #culture #h1n1 #coronavirus #poverty #wealth gap #elitism

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catflorist · 4 years

Text

SasuSaku Month 2020, Day 13: Miso Soup Summary: Sakura didn’t know what gave her the urge to tease him so much. But she didn’t want to stop. And besides, he started it. When Sakura gets locked out of her college dorm, she meets a boy named Sasuke who gives her miso soup. College AU Fluff. Rating: T

A Meal and a Pen

For the fourth time that hour, Ino reminded her that a boy was coming over.

“Again, I promise I won’t be here,” Sakura said.

Someone knocked at the door. Ino leapt up from the kitchen table. “Thanks, Sakura. Now get lost.”

From her seat in the kitchen, Sakura heard Ino greet Shikamaru, a fellow first-year student. Their footsteps faded down the twisted hallway to the suite’s common room. Sakura gathered her things and dropped them by the door. Before she could reach for her shoes, another knock sounded.

Sakura opened the door and stepped into the hallway in time to catch their RA disappearing around the corner. She bent to pick up a crumpled flyer at her doorstep.

The door swung shut behind her and locked with the sweetest click.

Sakura tried the handle. Ino and Sakura never locked their door—a bad habit—but now the handle refused to budge under her urgent hand.

“Ino?” she called, knocking at the door. But it seemed Ino had already retreated to the bedroom.

Sakura inspected the flyer. It read: AUTOMATIC LOCKS INSTALLED! KEEP KEYS ON HAND AT ALL TIMES.

It’s okay, she reminded herself. I can borrow a spare key. The flyer wisely listed the location of a lock-out and access services desk, only a five-minute walk away.

Sakura took one step and recognized a bigger issue. She stared down at her socked feet, pink to match her hair.

“Fu—” she started.

“Locked out?” a bored voice interrupted.

Twirling around, Sakura met eyes with a familiar dark-haired boy. He held a large container of soup in one hand and a bowl in the other. Despite speaking to her first, his face radiated disinterest—as if she had interrupted his soup-making with her misfortune. The way he held the container was somehow arrogant. Sakura thought about it and decided something about the tension of his wrist achieved this effect. She couldn’t place where she had seen him before, and this bothered her, because he was cute: deep, black eyes under serious brows, full lips arranged in a way she had trouble ignoring.

“I’m not locked out,” Sakura insisted. “Well, I’m a little locked out. My roommate’s home. But she—you know....” She grimaced, scratching the back of her calf with her socked foot, suddenly shy. She met the boy’s pointed gaze and wondered if he was going to make her elaborate. Surely, he knew what she meant.

The boy waited, watching her discomfort with rising amusement.

“…She is indisposed,” Sakura continued, “and I’m going to have to wait for her to let me in. I’m Sakura, by the way.”

“I know,” the boy said. At Sakura’s wide eyes, he scrambled to add, “I mean, you’re in my biology class. And I live on this floor.”

“Oh,” Sakura said, fighting her grin as she watched the boy’s cool exterior falter.

She definitely recognized him now. They had passed each other in the stairwell countless times. She had spotted his dark hair disappearing into a single down the hall. Once he had held the door for her in the lecture hall and did not respond to her word of thanks.

“I’m going to heat up my soup,” he muttered, with an expression like he had tasted sour milk.

“Right,” Sakura said. “Of course.” But he didn’t walk away yet.

He cast a glum look at Sakura, then down the hallway. “If you’re waiting in the lounge…I have enough for two. Since you can’t go anywhere else.” He gestured to her lack of shoes with his bowl.

Sakura hadn’t yet considered her next steps. Lacking shoes, keys, a phone, and money, her options were limited. She blinked. “Oh! I guess I have to wait somewhere. That would be really nice.” The boy straightened at these words. “Thank you, uh….?” Sakura trailed off. He hadn’t introduced himself.

“Sasuke.”

“Thanks, Sasuke,” she said. Why was his name familiar?

He said, “I’ll get a bowl for you.”

-x-

In the communal lounge, Sasuke set down two bowls and poured Sakura’s soup first, fishing in the container to dredge up the right proportions of tofu and seaweed.

“Thank you,” she said, waiting for him to sit. He gestured for her to go ahead.

Sakura took a tentative sip. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it was not this.

“Did you make this?” she asked gravely.

Sasuke nodded. “I made it last night.” He sat and pulled his own bowl closer.

Sakura took another long sip. “Really?”

“Yes,” he confirmed again, over the sound of a loud slurp.

“It tastes just like my mom’s cooking,” Sakura announced, with a flourish of her spoon. “Now I’m almost glad I got sexiled and locked out.” Sakura blushed then, remembering that she had only just formally met Sasuke, and as they had exchanged very few words, maybe it was not wise to allude to such carnal activities. But he was so quiet, and Sakura felt the need to fill the silence. And his stern eyes were a little disarming.

Sasuke asked, “Does this happen a lot?”

“It’s never happened before,” Sakura said. “Apparently, my door locks automatically now. And it’s safe to say that I’m not handling it very well.”

“I’ll plan to make more soup for next time,” Sasuke said, straight-faced, so Sakura didn’t catch the tease at first.

Sakura raised her eyebrows. “I agree. Just to be safe.”

The corners of Sasuke’s lips twitched into a smile. Sakura tucked her legs under herself on the chair. They finished their miso soup in a satisfied silence.

“I skip biology a lot,” Sasuke admitted in answer to a question she hasn’t asked.

Sakura was wondering about that. “Then I won’t bring up the midterm next week.”

Sasuke grimaced.

“We could study together,” Sakura suggested. “If you like. After all, I have nowhere to be.”

Sasuke considered this offer. He left and came back with his textbook. Sakura led him through the unit covered on the midterm, talking through each concept. Sasuke nodded along but didn’t ask any questions. He just listened to her. Sakura tried not to blush at his focused attention.

Eventually, Sasuke shut the textbook. “What are you doing in this class?”

Sakura blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re smart,” he said bluntly. “You’re clearly ahead of the other first-years. You should be in upper-level classes already.”

“Oh. Well, I am,” Sakura explained. “Last semester, I completed upper-level classes. And I’m taking more now. But the department changed its mind about me skipping this particular bio pre-requisite.”

Sasuke nodded smugly, his suspicions of her intelligence confirmed.

Sakura asked, “What are you studying?”

He shrugged, bored by the question. “I’m not a great student.” Then his mouth quirked. “I bet you’ve never even skipped class.”

Sakura smiled at his mocking tone. “I’m not interested in wasting my tuition money.”

“Teacher’s pet.”

“What a shame,” Sakura sighed. “I made this big biology study guide…” Sasuke perked up. “…which I might have considered sharing, were it not for this blatant disrespect.”

“I don’t want your color-coded study guide,” he assured her.

Sakura turned up her nose. “You can’t just assume things about people, Sasuke.”

He smirked. “How many highlighters do you own? Thirty?”

“I own a diverse set of stationary, for the record. I actually believe in spare highlighter usage…but colorful pens, for that matter—”

Sasuke’s smirk deepened.

Sakura changed course. “You’re just jealous, because you probably take awful notes.” She looked him over. “In fact, I bet your handwriting is terrible.”

Sakura didn’t know what gave her the urge to tease him so much. But she didn’t want to stop. And besides, he started it.

“Tch.” Sasuke rolled his eyes.

“I knew it.”

“Fine, let’s see,” Sasuke challenged, pulling out a pen from his pocket. He turned over Sakura’s forearm and smoothed over the future canvas with his fingertips. “What should I write?”

With his light touch on her pulse, Sakura could not concentrate. “Hmm?”

Chair legs scraped the ground, and Sasuke was sitting next to her. He grasped the inner crook of her elbow with his right hand and with his left scratched out a phrase on her skin. Sakura could not help but notice the pleasant way his long lashes curled above the arch of his cheekbones.

Sasuke stopped writing. His head tilted, and he looked at her. And then—at her lips. Sakura’s breath caught.

A familiar sound from the hallway snapped Sakura out of her reverie.

“That’s Ino,” she gasped, shooting out of her chair. Every other part of her screamed in dismay at the interruption. “I need to catch her.” Sakura ran into the hallway just as closing elevator doors muffled the sound of Ino’s laughter.

“Stairs,” Sasuke called. Sakura pivoted and flew down the stairwell, Sasuke’s footsteps close behind her. In between the third and second floors, the combination of Sakura’s speed and her pink socks on the smooth steps transmuted traction into ice. Sakura slipped backwards with a yelp, smashing her elbow against the railing.

Something interrupted her fall. With stunning reflexes, Sasuke had managed to grab her shoulders before she risked cracking her head on the steps.

“Ow,” Sakura cried, rubbing her elbow. She let out a curse.

“You don’t look like a person who curses,” Sasuke commented, releasing her. Without consulting each other, they both dropped to sit on the steps, the chase forgotten.

“What did I say about assumptions?” Sakura chided, leaning against the railing. “Okay—new plan. Maybe the desk attendant can help us?” She paused, realizing she had presumed Sasuke’s involvement. Though he had run after her on the steps. “Or—I can do that—and you can go back to your soup, or whatever else you do.”

Massaging her elbow, Sakura twisted her arm around, and for the first time, saw what Sasuke had scrawled on her skin. His name: Uchiha Sasuke. And then: his number.

Sakura’s mouth slackened in surprise. Sasuke crossed his arms.

Sakura traced the scrawl on her arm with a flutter in her stomach. “You do have terrible handwriting.”

She smiled at Sasuke.

-x-

The desk attendant did not help.

“I’ll need your ID to loan you a key,” he drawled.

“I don’t have my ID,” Sakura said.

“If you don’t have your ID, you’ll need to take this process to the lock-out and access services desk across campus.”

“I don’t have shoes,” Sakura said kindly.

“I don’t make the rules.”

“Well, thanks for your help,” Sakura said. She made a move towards the stairs.

“I’ll need to see your ID if you plan on re-entering the building,” the attendant said.

“I haven’t left the building,” Sakura reminded him.

“Again, not my policy.”

“I’m happy to follow your policy,” Sakura said kindly. “But I’ll need to go upstairs, and borrow my friend’s shoes, so I can re-enter the place I pay to live.”

The attendant leaned back in his swivel chair and closed his eyes, trapping them firmly in bureaucratic purgatory.

Sakura gave Sasuke a look.

Without a sound, Sasuke pulled out the pen from his pocket and put a finger to his lips. Sakura frowned. Then Sasuke lobbed the pen in a graceful arc. It collided hard enough against the glass entrance of the building that the resulting clang disrupted the desk attendant.

Sakura gaped. It was masterful.

“HEY!” the desk attendant called, scurrying to the entrance.

Sakura grabbed Sasuke’s hand. They half-sprinted, half-stumbled up all five flights of stairs, collapsing on the top step. Sakura clutched her stomach, giddy with suppressed laughter, and Sasuke fought back a grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“You were amazing,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

Sasuke told her, “I was wrong about you. You’re not just a teacher’s pet.”

“What am I, then?” Sakura asked, still panting.

He considered. “You’re dangerous.”

Sakura did not know who reached out for whom. One moment, they sat breathless next to each other in the empty stairwell. The next, their lips were meeting in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss, Sakura’s fingers already laced through Sasuke’s hair, Sasuke’s arms encircling her waist. Enjoying this unforeseen turn to her day, Sakura’s teeth pulled on his lower lip. A small, strangled noise escaped Sasuke’s throat. He moved as if to tug her into his lap. A thrill shot through Sakura’s whole body. She let his hands guide her—

“Sakura? Sasuke?” a voice sounded.

They shot apart. A column of orange towered over them.

“Huh.” Naruto beamed at them. “I didn’t know you two have met.”

-x-

The three of them convened together in Sasuke’s small single. Sasuke perched in his desk chair while Sakura sat cross-legged on his bed next to Naruto.

It turns out, Naruto and Sasuke were old childhood friends, still bound at the hip and attending the same college. Meanwhile, Sakura and Naruto had grown close throughout the semester. She tutored him in chemistry, and he dragged her out to get ramen and drinks. Seeing them together, Sakura connected the dots and remembered the countless times Naruto had mentioned his childhood friend to her over the past few months:

“I think you’d get along well with this old friend of mine.”

“I tried to convince my friend Sasuke to get ramen with us tonight but he’s too busy brooding.”

“I’m stressed for midterms. I wish I could live like Sasuke who has never studied a day in his life. Bastard.”

Now, Naruto could not stop laughing. He laughed throughout Sakura’s retelling of the past few hours. He laughed when he saw the handwriting on Sakura’s forearm. He laughed harder at Sasuke’s dangerous scowl and bent over at the sight of his pink ears.

Wiping a tear, he said, “I’ve never seen you go after a girl like this.”

Sasuke grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

“I actually don’t think I’ve ever seen you try so hard for anything in your life.”

“Shut up, dobe.”

Sakura watched the exchange, both horrified and flattered.

Naruto turned to her. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right, kissing my idiot friend?”

Sakura struggled to think of something to say that would both entertain Naruto and ensure that Sasuke would kiss her again.

Eventually she shrugged. “He gave me soup and sacrificed his pen. What else could I do?”

Sasuke stopped drumming his fingers on his knee. He was pleased.

“Hopeless,” Naruto said. But he was smiling.

The three friends talked. The room grew dark, and Sasuke turned on the weak lamp at his bedside. They talked more, until Sakura was blinking hard to stay awake.

Naruto sprang out of Sasuke’s bed, stretching so wide that his body occupied half the square footage of Sasuke’s room. “I need to go home,” he yawned. “Farewell, lovebirds.”

“Bye, Naruto,” Sakura called.

Sasuke made a derisive noise, concluding his goodbye.

As the door swung closed, Sakura said, “I should go, too. Wait.” She laughed. “I’m still locked out.”

“Maybe your roommate’s back now,” Sasuke said. Neither of them moved.

“Help me up,” Sakura said. She reached for Sasuke. He stood and clasped both her hands, pulling her onto her feet. Sakura let the momentum swing her body much closer to him than necessary. He did not move away.

“Thank you for helping me today,” she muttered into the sudden quiet.

Sasuke said, gaze lowered, “I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while.” She remembered the tone of his voice when he first spoke to her that evening—bored, uncaring. This must not be the easiest thing for him to admit.

Sakura shifted her weight onto her toes. This small movement was all she needed to close the gap between them. She pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his mouth.

“I’m glad you did,” she said. Sasuke’s hands on hers tightened.

“Let me walk you home,” he said.

The walk down the hallway was short. Sakura knocked on her own door, and Ino opened it.

“Sakura! I was wondering where you were.”

“Thank goodness you’re here, Ino,” Sakura laughed.

“You left your phone and keys—oh.” Ino noticed the gloomy figure behind Sakura and smiled wide.

“I locked myself out. I’m a mess tonight,” Sakura sighed. “But Sasuke-kun here helped me out.”

“How nice,” Ino said, still smiling.

To Sasuke, Sakura said, “We’ll talk later?” She tapped her arm with a small smile. Ino’s eyes tracked the movement.

Sasuke nodded at her, then nodded at Ino, and left without any particular fanfare.

Inside their own suite, Ino flipped over Sakura’s arm.

“Hah!” she cried.

“It’s been a long night,” Sakura said. She could not stop smiling.

She owed Sasuke a meal and a pen.

. Note: this was a lot of fun to write, and pretty different from what I've explored so far--dialogue heavy and (hopefully) humorous. please let me know what you think of this writing style and tone! is more college au something you're interested in seeing? If you want to read more sasusaku from me, please check out the rest of my SasuSaku Month 2020 series, and also The Garden, a post-canon blank period fic which I'm very proud of (on my AO3). thank you for reading!!!

#ssm20 #ssm20d13 #sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku fanfic #my ss #my ssm20 #my fic #catflorist #nothing better than making out in a stairwell #reblog if you agree #ss #ss fic

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emma-what-son · 4 years

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(Echee post) Did Emma Watson actually graduate from Brown University? Special treatment at college?

Posted on November 8, 2015

*PS this is a work in progress, will take a few days to get it in order...so apologies if it is incomplete Intro Emma has been talking about how important education is to her since she was 10. Even during the first interviews for Harry Potter promotion, back in 2001 for Philosopher's Stone, she was adamant about going to college. She's continuously said how important college/education is throughout the Harry Potter promotion years, but does what she say match up with what she actually did? She was playing along with that bullshit "Classy, educated" image she and her PR team (like her publicist Luke) have crafted for her, the one where she claims she is exactly the same as Hermione, the beloved character from the Harry Potter franchise. Course though, she's contradicted herself on that multiple, multiple times - sometimes saying she's exactly like Hermione, and other times claiming they're extremely different. There was some extremely strange stuff going down with Emma's Brown University Education though....as will be revealed below. And you'll have to start wondering if she actually did graduate or how much, how extensive and enormous, was the amount of special, unequal treatment she got for being a celebrity and a feminist (College campuses love pandering to social justice warriors/feminists - part of it is a natural love for them and another part is Obama forcing them to through the OCR and Title IX) Emma's Education Emma entered Brown University the Fall of 2009. Brown is a private, 4 year university/college in America. Emma entered Brown as an international student studying on an F-1 Visa. Okay Emma didn't do much BS during her first 3 semester (Fall 2009, Spring 2010, Fall 2010) at Brown and seemed to study there like most normal students, but it's after the first three semesters that things started getting extremely strange and Emma started telling a whole bunch of lies. Emma constantly raved about how awesome college is and gave every single impression she was going back to Brown in Spring 2011. getSurrey November 2010: getSurrey: Will you carry on acting? Emma: I will keep on acting. I’ve just been in a film called My Week With Marilyn. I’ve just finished shooting that. But finishing university is a priority. But I hope I do lots more things. I don’t really want to be put in a box – just yet. I’m not exactly sure. University Magazine Interview by Colin Turner (November 2010?): (Okay just note that this interview came out in June/July 2011 for Harry Potter Deathly Hallows Part 2 Promotion, but Emma mentions in the interview she just finished filming My Week with Marilyn, which happened in November 2010. Uni magazine is this student run magazine, so I'm assuming they don't do monthly issues (don't have the money/people for that) so it takes them several months to release an issue.) Colin Turner: You’ve gone to university, obviously, do you imagine taking up acting in the future or are you just seeing what happens? Emma: I just did a movie, finished something last week, “My week with Marilyn”, which is exciting. No, I think I’ll just keep doing things. But my education is my number one priority at the moment and everything else comes around that really. Parade Magazine Interview November 2010 (Emma Watson's Campus Confidential, interviewed by Jeanne Wolf): "I get some amazing offers to act, and sometimes it’s hard to say, “No, I’m going to stay here and do my homework.” People are like, “What do you mean she’s not available?” I may do some theater next summer, but this college experience is really important to me, and I won’t give it up for anything. I’m not going to school just for the academics–I wanted to share ideas, to be around people who are passionate about learning."

Echee says: Okay, notice how in November 2010 and even right up until January 17, Emma claims/gives the strong impression she's definitely going back to Brown University for the Spring 2011 semester. Big lol at the "this college experience is really important to me, and I won’t give it up for anything" two months before she did. By the way I have to mention the whole "Sorry for long absence from here - so much to do and so little time to do it in before I go back to school! Hope you're all ok x" was originally a tweet from Emma's @EmWatson twitter account but after she left university she deleted it lol. The picture I posted is from the official (that's why there's the blue check mark) Emma Watson Facebook page run by both Emma and her team. I guess she forgot to delete the facebook post after she deleted her tweet. For Spring 2011, the first day of classes was January 26 (per the academic calendar). Yet even at January 17, Emma stated she was getting ready to go back to school, hence her "so little time to do it in before I go back to school!" How the fuck can she be confused 1 week before classes start whether she's taking a personal leave of absence or not? Brown University Personal Leave of Absence Deadline

Brown University 3 types of leaves of absence

Okay, so of Brown University's three types of leaves of absence, Emma took personal. The deadline to declare you're taking next semester off is December 1, hence the Brown policy "If you are planning to take leave for the spring semester (Semester 2), you must declare by Dec. 1st." Either Emma was lying and trying to delay revealing she was taking time off to do her Perks of Being a Wallflower filming and BS Lancôme makeup and perfume work (very possible since she lies so much), or she was honestly undecided until right before, and thus requested special, unequal treatment that despite her missing the deadline, she should be allowed to take a leave of absence. Anyway I think it was special treatment from Brown allowing their publicity cow to get what she wanted. That means she was clearly lying in her January 17 tweet about going back to school.

This from Amanda Foreman, Emma's interviewer, for Emma's Vogue Magazine July 2011 interview: Emma struggled valiantly to fit everything into her life, becoming increasingly exhausted, until over Christmas advisors at Brown suggested that she take a leave of absence, a turn of events Yates was not surprised by. Notice how the Vogue article says it was "over Christmas"....Christmas Break for Brown starts after December 1, the deadline. First off, unless Emma's doctor signed off on it, then it was NOT a medical leave of absence, and her advisors gave her special treatment since she missed the personal leave of absence deadline already. And You know December 25 is over 3 weeks after the December 1st deadline, so that's an amazingly long extension despite the severe, absolute terms of "You must declare by December 1". Anyway, wowza, off to a bad start....getting special treatment when you're quitting school temporarily. Well, whatever, it's equality feminist Emma Watson that we are talking about here. She runs her mouth off talking about feminism and equality and whatever but like most Western (usually Caucasian) privileged feminists, have no idea what she's talking about. Despite Brown's Spring 2011 semester starting at the end of January, Emma kept quiet about all this until March 7, 2011. She announced it on her website EmmaWatson.com (which is now defunct and shut down): Here's her statement on March 7, 2011: As you know, I love Brown and I love studying pretty much more than anything. But recently I've had so much to juggle that being a student AND fulfilling my other commitments has become a little impossible. I've decided to take a bit of time off to completely finish my work on Harry Potter (the last one comes out this summer) and to focus on my other professional and acting projects. I will still be working towards my degree … it's just going to take me a semester or two longer than I thought : ) Hope you are all well! Thank you for all your continuing support. Emma xx.

On February 10, 2011 (well after the Brown semester had started), Emma confirms on twitter that she will be filming Perks of Being a Wallflower, which interfered with Brown (Brown school date ends May 20, Perks started filming May 9) and she had also already had various talks and was close to finalizing a deal with Lancôme. And she knew she would have to do some filming work for Lancôme commercials in the coming months. At this point clearly she was taking the semester off and yet she didn't announce it until March 7, 2011. Why'd she wait an entire month??? Why be so secretive of it? Just like how a week before classes started she was claiming she was getting ready to go back to school. And then why wait another month before she and Harry Potter publicist Vanessa Davies, release more details of this leave of absence? April 23, 2011 Press Release to Associated Press: LONDON (AP) — A spokeswoman for Harry Potter star Emma Watson says she will be transferring from Brown University to another university in the autumn. Vanessa Davies denied reports that the 21-year-old actress was "bullied out" of the Rhode Island university, saying there was no truth in reports by a number of online publications who cited classmates and "insiders". Davies said Saturday that Watson, who plays Hermione in the wizard movie series, has decided to pursue a different course not offered at Brown. She added that the star "has absolutely loved her time at Brown" and made many good friends there. Watson has recently taken time out of her studies to focus on her movie career. She has said that her first days in college were difficult. Davies did not identify the university Watson will be transferring to. Emma releases a statement April 30, 2011 on her website EmmaWatson.com (now defunct): I felt the need to let you all know the reason I took a semester off from Brown had nothing to do with bullying as the media have been suggesting recently. I have never been bullied in my life and certainly never at Brown. This "10 points to Gryffindor" incident never even happened. I feel the need to say this because accusing Brown students of something as serious as bullying and this causing me to leave seems beyond unfair. Please don't try and speculate about what I might do in September - no one can possibly know because I don't even know yet! Like my other fellow Brown students I am trying to figure out my third year and whether or not I will spend it abroad (this is common).

If you wondered why Emma let Vanessa Davies announce the transferring information, instead of Emma just announcing it on her website a week later, it's because Davies is head of publicity at Harry Potter, so they were working out how best to frame the narrative that Emma is still a hardworking student. Don't forget, ~200 million is spent on Harry Potter marketing for HP Deathly Hallows and Davies is part of that team and one of the heads. Warner Brothers had to protect their little cash cow until the movies were over and Emma couldn't damage their profits. Also, the Harry Potter spokesperson, Vanessa Davies, says Emma will be "transferring" but from Emma's own message (and it's later revealed), she was actually only just studying abroad, not transferring. Weird. April 2011 Associated Press Interview: I just knew I was going to be beating myself up because I wasn't going to be able to be doing the best that I knew that I could at school or in my job. If I'd been getting B's or C's I would've been really upset. Wonderland Magazine February 2014: You realize you can't do everything. I really did think I could do it all - commute back to the UK for Potter filming and press, then go to Brown for finals, and keep up with my friends and family. You can't do it by the way. You do have to take breaks. It's how I became interested in meditation and yoga. I developed bedtime rituals. Elle Magazine UK November 2011: Of course Harry Potter got in the way, with its relentless round of reshoots and promotion, meaning that Emma had to temporarily halt her studies at the start of this year. "I was basically commuting across the Atlantic. Taking a semester out wasn't what I wanted to do, but I am still enrolled at Brown." Collider.com Interview with Steve Weintraub November 14, 2010: Well, I keep trying to but she keeps finding her way back into my life. I still have two movies left to promote, and they’re still cutting and editing Part 2 so I might have to do some more voice recording and other stuff for it, so it’s a very gradual goodbye. I’m being eased out of it gently........I mean we are special, it is Harry Potter. But we only had two days—I was being sarcastic (laughs). Sorry, I have to like fill that in because otherwise it will be written, “we are special!” (laughs). But yeah we only had two days to shoot it and we needed so much more time than that. So yeah, we have reshoots at Christmas. So it’s not over. It’s not over yet guys! Echee says: Okay, what? Notice how in Wonderland Emma claims she was busy filming for Harry Potter and her Elle Magazine interviewer claims the same. Harry Potter Deathly Hallows Part 1 and Part 2 filming ended in June 2010, and then for less than a week they had to reshoot the epilogue in December 2010 (they reshot around Christmas time, so Emma had already finished her Brown Semester). They re-shot the epilogue because the makeup/CGI made the actors look elderly instead of middle aged. Also, HP and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 premiere was July 15, 2011. Generally press begins one month in advance (though you might do some magazine interviews 3-4 months in advance). Emma was not seen at any events/doing press until beginning of July 2011. She was stuck in Pittsburgh doing Perks of Being a Wallflower filming (which took place from May 9 to June 29, 2011) Emma was also filming for and doing work on her Lancôme stuff in March/April. How can she claim she was too busy during the Spring 2011 school year (which was from January 26 - May 20) with Potter filming and promotion? She did none of that. The overlap she had with school and non-school stuff was Perks filming and Lancôme filming/promotion. It had NOTHING to do with taking time off for Potter. Plus she was negotiating those deals for Perks in January 2011 and for Lancôme in December-ish. There was ZERO reason for her to take time off from school, but she did, because she was desperate for fame/money, and she blamed it on Potter to hide the truth. PopSugar On-Set May/June 2011 Interview with

Shannon Vestal Robson: Shannon: Have you read the book, and do you feel pressure to live up to it? Emma: I read the script first and then I read the book. It was so funny because I read the script and I came back to Brown and I told my roommates that I've just read this amazing script, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, and my friends were like, "Oh, that's my favorite book. So jealous that you get to play Sam. If I was ever going to be in a movie, if I was ever going to play any character ever, it would be Sam. Notice how Emma mentions going back to Brown and asking her Brown roommates (Scout Willis, Madison Utendahl, etc.) about the book. So even during the Fall 2010 Semester, she was secretly thinking of filming Perks next year. And remember the interviews I posted above (from November 2010) where she claimed education and university came first? BS. She was already planning back in September 2010 (when she went back to Brown) about leaving next year. Also, remember this. Emma is claiming she was overworked with Brown and Potter stuff.....why in September 2010 was she looking at possible filming projects that would coincide with Spring 2011 Semester and Summer? If you claim you are overworked, why are you looking to add on more, extra, unnecessary work. She was also negotiating her Lancôme deal in December 2010 as well. Harry Potter Deathly Hallows Part 2 New York City Press Conference July 2011 (Listen at 17:30): "I'm going to Oxford, in the fall, to study English for a year. Just to explain, I haven't left Brown. I'm still enrolled at Brown, but I'm doing my third year abroad. Studying at home, abroad, for me. So I'll go back to the States to do my last year. I took a semester off but my A-Level credits actually count as an advance-place-me-out-a-semester so I'm no further behind, I'm still technically going into my third year. So, yeah, that's that." Something to remember is how Vanessa Davies (when the Harry Potter spokeswoman announced Emma was transferring from Brown in April)says "Watson, who plays Hermione in the wizard movie series, has decided to pursue a different course not offered at Brown". On Emma's EmmaWatson.com website in the FAQ section (undated), she says this: I was seriously torn as to whether to stay in the UK or go to the States as let's face it the UK has some of the best universities in the world. But, ultimately, I loved the course at Brown and really liked the idea of experiencing a different country and culture - and I must say I've never been happier, I absolutely love Brown. So strange how Emma + her Harry Potter spokesperson contradict each other. Emma claims she purposefully chose Brown (instead of staying in the UK for university) because she loved Brown's course, but then the spokesperson said the reason Emma is transferring is because Emma was sad that Brown didn't have the course she wanted to take. Emma reveals in the press conference that she will be studying English a Oxford. The thing is, Emma was and did graduate as an English Literature major. So Brown did have the course she wanted to take (which is what she earlier said). Okay so Watson claims here that despite taking an entire semester (3-5 classes) off, she's no further behind than the rest of her classmates. Damn, this girl must be such a hard worker to not fall behind. Still, is she telling the truth, lying as usual, or begging/threatening Brown University to give her special, unequal treatment? Fact checking Watson's "advance-place-me-out-a-semester" claim Brown University Office of the Registrar - The College, Advanced Standing Guidelines

Anyway, there's a lot of information and I only parsed out a bit of it, but here's a quick summary. Basically, to graduate from Brown University, you need to take a minimum of 30 classes during your college years (can be at Brown or other approved colleges) and also a minimum of 8 semesters. Just to mention, A-Levels are the UK equivalent of American Advanced Placement (A.P.) courses or International Baccalaureate (IB) courses. Also, when Brown says "credits" they mean courses/classes. So, yes, Emma told the truth in that her semester standing is no further behind because her A-Levels counted as an extra semester. However! Emma is still behind in total number of classes taken because A-Levels do not count towards your degree requirement of 30 classes/courses. So she needs to take more classes per semester than the average person since she's behind.

Vanity Fair May 2010 Interview: After shopping classes, she settled on European women's history, Ovid's Metamorphoses, and acting. “I think actually I'm the worst person in the class,” says Watson cheerily. So in Emma's first semester (that's the time period they're talking about), Emma took 3 classes - women's history (lol at this feminist class), Ovid, and acting. Brown requires students to take 3-5 classes a semester and so Emma took the bare minimum....kind of super lazy for someone so excited to get to college and start learning and whatever else she's been spouting for years. Okay, Brown's most basic, elementary requirement that ALL students have to fulfill to graduate is to take 30 classes. Since Emma only took 3 classes her first semester, that means 30 - 3 = 27 classes left to take over 7 semesters. Since Emma took a semester off but claims advanced standing, meaning she wants to graduate in May 2013 (September 2009 - May 2013), that means...... 27 classes over 6 total semesters. 27 / 6 = 4.5 classes per semester This I will go into detail in below, later, but just a heads up, Emma also took the Fall 2012 Semester off in order to film Noah. Because Emma had enough A-Levels, she did indeed get 2 semesters of advanced standing, but to graduate in 6 semesters means...... 30 minimum classes to graduate / 6 semesters = 5 classes a semester every semester Brown only allows you to take a max of 5 classes a semester and since Emma only took 3 classes her very first semester at Brown, it means it's impossible for Emma to graduate by May 2013 without special, unequal treatment....special treatment being either lowering the required 30 classes or allowing her to take 6 classes a semester, but come on, Emma is super lazy and unprofessional. Can you honestly see this girl doing 6 classes a semester when she lazily only took 3 classes her first semester? Freshman year is the easiest you know.... And their 30 classes requirement is their most basic requirement - to let her worm her way out of it would be absolutely disgusting.

#echee #echee's posts #brown

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chimswae · 4 years

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BTS Caretaker Ch1

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC, Jikook~)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 2,161

-Author Note: I crosspost this story from my Asianfanfic/Wattpadd account. Mind you, clicheness OVERLOADS.

Chapter 1

“Ahjumma’s food. I can smell it from miles away. Yums..” the maknae line hollered excitedly as they made their way inside without even taking off their socks properly. Stood behind them in line were the hyung lines which only shook their head in amusement. They just got back from a 11-hour practice yet those boys still had some energy stored in them.

Age aint just a number for sure.

Taehyung and Jimin voice were so loud which could shake the whole building “AS EXPECTED AHJUMMA COOKED THE BEST FOOD” Jin smacked their back head lightly accompanied with soft grunt.

“Clean yourself first, this food need to be reheat first” as usual Jin would take charge when it came to kitchen issues. Taehyung puckered his lips in protest and shot the older boy a stern look sending there-is-no-way-im-listening-to-you message which only being ignored by him.

Jimin cracked a grin as his eyes sunk into his signature eyes smile “I will be here in 10 minutes” he paraded to his room happily. Jin watched his figure disappeared with a soft sigh “And, how about you?” turning to face hungry Jungkook, the younger guy only rolled his eyes earning a smack on his forearm.

“HYUNG WHAT WAS THAT FOR?” bewildered, he half-yelled.

“Manners Jeon Gukkie” said the leader. Jungkook pursed his lips looking awfully sulky as he made his way to his room to get changed before his hyungs goofed around making fun of him again. Like a routine, every time they reached their place, meals would already lay flat on the table for them to savour. Even though it was weird to eat something without knowing the caretaker lady’s face, they were aware the lady was like a mother to them.

Every single day without failed, the caretaker lady or they preferably called as “Ahjumma” would prepare a simple meal for the seven boys. However, due to the nature of her contract with Bighit the ahjumma is not allowed to perform her task when the boys were around. She would only be there early in the morning daily except in certain occasion whereby the boy had no schedule ahead then she would come as per requested by BTS manager.

Therefore, none of the boys had ever met the caretaker lady face to face. Entering to her third year working with the boys, the caretaker lady knew almost everything about them just by cleaning their dorm. Yes, the dorm would not be in a good shape if it weren’t for the caretaker lady. The place was big enough for everyone to stay in comparison to their old dorm back then.

Make it big or not, they are still guys. Some may take time to clean after their mess but the nature of their career restricts them to perform even a simplest task like doing their own laundry. Now and then Jungkook would be in charge doing their laundry however nowadays they were so cramped with awards shows and tours ahead.

There were lots of things to be prepared at once, and the guys barely got time to even shut their eyes properly in a day. Poor boys.

Like a flash, Jungkook and Jimin came running to the kitchen taking their seat looking all ready to gobble down the food. At time like this, they really missed homecooked food. They are grateful for caretaker Ahjumma’s food that kept them fit and healthy all these years. Unlike before their debut days, the company could only afford them simple snacks which were not enough for grown up boys like them.

“I wonder when will we ever get to meet this caretaker Ahjumma” the youngest one mumbled between his bite.

Jimin shrugged “According to Sejin hyung, she is not allowed to work when we are around. The nature of the contract I guess” he felt someone sank in a seat beside him lazily. Lazy but hungry Min Yoongi.

Yoongi picked up his chopsticks and shoved kimchi in his mouth hastily “The contract is made to protect us”

“The ahjumma is not a sasaeng. It has been 3 years, plus she has been nothing but awfully kind to us. She prepares food for us even though it is not in her job description. Aint that enough to prove she won’t cause any harm?” Jungkook argued with a slight pout.

Sprawled lazily on the couch, Hoseok nodded in agreement as he started to mumble incoherently most likely how it was unfair for not be able to meet the kind lady personally. It was all talk and they couldn’t stop wondering how kind the Ahjumma was in person.

The eldest in the group appeared looking squeaky clean with a gleeful smile plastered on his face “Jungkook, are you falling for this Ahjumma’s charms” he teased. The younger guy flustered in his seat sending a death glare to his hyung’s way.

Jin didn’t stop right there, he heard him continue “Maybe she is not that Ahjumma after all. What if Bang Pd is protecting us from a beautiful caretaker lady?” he hummed as he sat across Jungkook still with that playful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Mmm.. I don’t think her notes sound so young after all. She used a lot of old words in her writing” Jimin scratched the back of his neck in confusion. How could a person be so clueless and oblivious? It supposed to be a mere tease but he indeed took things quite seriously. Judging by his expression, Jimin was racking his brain to find answer to the relevancy of this matter as per mentioned by Jin.

A soft sigh escaped from Yoongi’s lips in response to his friends’ irrelevant conversation “I am going to sleep. Clean up after eating, don’t put more loads on the ahjumma’s shoulder” he warned before leaving the group.

“Tch, how can he be full by eating kimchi!” Jin cringed in annoyance.

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Ji Seul, 22 years old, a college dropout.

Alright, cut that college dropout thing. She’s diligently working in a bubble tea shop and sometimes she would work at 7-eleven just to kill time. Another reason was that, to make more money. Due to financial constraints a year ago, she had to give up her college in exchange to her little brother school fees. The fees on the other hand had hiked up crazily leaving her with no choice but to give up her future.

It was not easy for her mother to raise the siblings alone without external support. The condition of the economy nowadays was not favourable to family with low disposable income like them. Ji Seul worked when she was in college however it came to no avail. For some reason, she performed badly in her first semester. To add to that sappy story of hers, she almost got kicked out due to her poor performance.

If she were to work, she would perform so badly in her tests and projects.

However, if she decided to give up on having a part time job, she could not afford the college fees. And vice versa.

Some might think there was another way to resolve her so called issues. Scholarship? She tried it all, guess the competition was surprisingly high lately. Ji Seul had a decent result to apply for one, but there would always be another person who’s above you after all. That’s life.

She spent her youth time working hard like there is no tomorrow for the sake of her family. As much as she wanted to chase her dreams, she would rather work her ass off for her mother at least. The failure of her mother’s marriage literally messed up everything. Let’s not talk about her typical shitty life, Ji Seul preferred to let it buried deep in her brain. It was not worth talking anyways.

All she knew, her father was a real jerk for abandoning them.

Ji Seul loathed her father to the core. She would never forgive him for all misery that he had caused to their life.

Placing the last ingredient in her stew, she smiled to herself feeling a little proud of her little accomplishment. Cooking was not easy, and if it weren’t for her annoying little brother, which was not that little, demanded a decent dinner tonight, she did not need to struggle with the recipe. He was old enough to cook a freaking ramen yet he chose to order her around just to piss her off.

“Where is my food?” Ji Hoon blinked with a sly smirk.

Ji Seul scoffed in disbelief “Here..” she kicked his calf as her eyes rolled in annoyance.

“OWW NUNA! THAT IS RUDE!”

“So, your nuna is being rude now? Don’t call me nuna, I am disowning you Hoon” she snickered. Bantering was a usual thing between the Ji’s, the world would be a better place without their existence for sure. The sound of front door being opened averted Ji Seul attention from her brother.

“Im back kids. No one is losing their teeth today, right? I hope” her mother closed the door behind her with a sarcastic remark. Pursing her lips, she took the bag from the older woman’s hand “Don’t worry, our teeth are still intact. But seems like Hoon will be losing his soon” Hoon puffed his cheeks.

“Can both of you behave for one day” she shook her head utterly speechless of her children’s childish behaviour. She went straight to check the food on the stove “Oh you cooked Seul-ah?” Seul broke a wide grin with a nod.

“If it weren’t for me, nuna would not be cooking that stew right now. Amazing, isn’t it?” Hoon replied chirpily.

Snorting under her breath, Seul retorted “For your information, the world does not revolve around you Ji Hoon. So, mother how’s work?” she watched the older woman taking a seat with a fatigue smile. Over years, she could see how older she got. It must not be easy for her to work as a caretaker lady. Her mother cherished her job as BTS’s caretaker because they paid her handsomely and the company really looked after her like a family.

She grew fond of the boys even though they did not have the chance to meet each other just yet. However, it was satisfying to look after the boys just like her own child. She loved her job. If she were given a chance to meet them in the future, she would shower them with lots of good food.

“The boys really made a huge mess. I think they were pretty busy” she chuckled.

She took a sip of the cold drinks as she continued “Jungkook piled up the laundry in his room again. He must have forgotten it while tending other important works like-“ Seul cut her off with a cringe.

“Like his games?” her mother nodded in response, ‘” Lazy bum” she claimed.

“Jungkook is just a kid Seul, let him be” her mother defended.

Seul crossed her arms disliking the fact that this Jungkook person made her mother worked extremely hard today “He is 20 and a grown-up man. He should have cleaned his own mess” Hoon pretended he did not listen to his sister complaints. It had always been like that. Ji Seul appeared to have a personal vendetta against Bangtan Sonyeondan. She knew they were pretty hot nowadays but sadly BTS did not meet her par.

Now and then, she would listen to their songs. Some of the songs are decent enough which gave colour to her already sorrowful life. Nevertheless, that was it. She had no idea who was who, all she knew there were 7 members.

If Ji Seul were like those fangirls, she would be the happiest human being alive for having a connection with BTS. Too bad, she was not into them. She had something better to do, like making money and keeping their stomach full.

“Do you like Jungkook hyung?” Hoon’s voice brought her out of her trance.

Ji Seul facepalmed upon listening to his absurd questions. She let out a low grunt “Jungkook hyung? Are you that friendly with him? Ew that is gross Hoon” she shot him a judgemental look.

“He is older by a year, and I am being polite. You seem to have lots of shitty complaints in your brain when it comes to BTS members. Especially Jungkook hyung” he purposely pressed the hyung part staring at the small girl in front of him.

“Because for some reason mother only talk about him and that other guy Chin?” she blurted out of annoyance.

“It is Jin..” her mother leaned back in her seat with a teasing smile. Now she’s teaming up with Ji Hoon to bring Seul down for good. She added before Seul could continue “He is a good cook..unlike someone” earning a low scowl from Ji Seul.

She had made up her mind to ignore them both.

Her stew needs her attention.

#bts fic #bts fanfic #bts series #jeon jungkook x reader #Yoongi x reader #bts fluff #Bts x oc #btscaretaker #bts idol au

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bebychangbean · 4 years

Text

Strangers Ch.2

Demon! Han Jisung x Reader

This chapter is kinda filler but it’s important to define the reader’s relationship with Jisung and Jisung’s mental state.

Warnings: cursing, mental health decline

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Word Count: 3.5k

Jisung hated crying. His father’s voice in his head always scolded him for showing weakness, making him believe that he wasn’t deserving of tears. ‘Tears are for humans,’ his father said, ‘You are not human.’

“Yes I am,” Jisung said out loud. You looked up at him from where you were sitting on the couch.

The five of you had been sitting in the small living room for a few minutes, trying to collect your thoughts and come up with a plan for the boys. You didn’t even notice the tears streaming down Jisung’s face until he broke the silence in the room.

“I am human,” he continued, clearly not talking to any of you.

Minho took his hand, pulling him out of his thoughts. Jisung was suddenly aware of the four gazes on him and he wiped the tears from his eyes. He must not show weakness, just as his father said.

Hyunjin had been crying too, silently, but still. He missed his family. He understood that he might not be able to see them for a long time, suddenly regretting his choice of running out of the convenience store. Had he stayed there, he would have been able to tell the police all he knew and then return home.

Hyunjin had never wanted to hug his dog more than he did at that moment.

“How long do you think we can stay here?” Chan asked, looking up at you from where he sat, cross-legged on the floor.

You didn’t know how to answer his question. You had been living alone for almost 2 months before the boys arrived and you knew your parents weren’t planning to move back from Seoul any time soon. Your brother only returned during the summer which wasn’t for another half a year. Technically the four boys could live here as long as you were alone, but you’d have to hope that your parents didn’t notice a rise in the water bill or something.

But did you want them to be here that long?

“You guys can stay here until you find somewhere else to go,” you promised. “As long as that takes.” You knew the best option for them would be to get out of the country, but their faces were blacklisted and it wasn’t likely that they’d be let on a plane. They’d have to pay someone to get them out of the country by boat, most likely.

Another issue would be money. You had a job that paid well enough and you were sure you could cover groceries for the five of you, but the boys weren’t able to work. You’d have a hard time saving money for your next year of college.

You decided not to think about that as you got up to make yourself some tea. You heard the boys whisper to each other in the kitchen while you put the kettle on the stove, boiling some extra water in case any of the boys wanted some.

“Why do I feel so bad?” Jisung asked quietly.

“Physically or emotionally?” Chan questioned.

“Both,” Jisung said.

You heard shifting on the couch and Minho whispering hushed words of comfort into Jisung’s hair as he held him gently.

Despite the danger you knew Jisung was, you couldn’t help but like the four of them. You thought back to the way you and Chan had made breakfast, humming softly and making fun of Hyunjin’s weird appetite. You thought of the way the boys took care of each other, knowing what each of them liked and trusting each other completely. You briefly wished you had friends like them.

The five of you spent the rest of the morning discussing the living situation. They would need to go shopping to get clothes and basic necessities, but they’d have to make sure to be very cautious so as to not get caught. You figured you could drive them further into Suwon and hit a mall or two.

The four boys packed into your small car and you headed toward the city. They were all wearing hoodies or hats to hide their eyes, masks pulled up to cover everything else. You only hoped that you didn’t look too suspicious.

The car ride was pretty quiet, the only sound being the soft music that played on the radio. You glanced at Chan who was dozing off in the passenger seat next to you, his head against the window. You wondered how old he was, noting how much younger he looked with his eyes closed. His eyes gave away his emotions very easily so it was your first time seeing him truly at peace.

You turned your eyes back to the road, trying to focus on the song that was playing as the fields passed by outside the car.

The boys had picked a genius place to escape to. It maybe wasn’t as far from Seoul as they would have liked, but there was so much empty land and places to hide. Besides, the police were unlikely to ask around the houses as there were mostly farming families and rarely used summer homes.

You pulled your old Mazda into the parking lot of the mall, putting on your mask and stepping one leg out of the car. You tapped Chan’s shoulder to wake him up before getting out and closing the door behind you.

The parking lot wasn’t very full so there were less people to potentially recognize any of the boys from the news. You didn’t know what would happen if one of them were spotted, but you assumed they’d make a run for it pretty fast.

The five of you headed inside the big electric doors, sighing at how warm it was inside the massive mall. The comforting smell of a nearby Starbucks drifted through the air and almost made you gravitate toward it without even knowing. It seemed Hyunjin had the same idea, but Minho caught him by the arm and you realized that you would have to take off your mask to drink which wasn’t wise.

Jisung led the way toward the H&M to start. Hyunjin and Chan went to a different store to hunt for plain black clothing.

You went with Jisung and Minho to browse the racks of clothing, the boys picking stuff rather quickly, in a rush to get out of public. Chan and Hyunjin returned in less than 15 minutes, each carrying a bag. Jisung finished paying rather quickly, all in cash, of course, in case the police were tracking their credit card usage. You guys also hit a Rite-Aid to buy some toiletries and shower stuff, the boys using the last of their pocket money.

Lastly, you stopped by that Starbucks because none of you could resist. You ordered under a fake name and made sure to keep your head down to prevent anyone from seeing your eyes.

All of you were in and out in less than an hour, record time for Hyunjin and yourself.

The drive home was a little less solemn, the boys seemingly excited at their new clothes and happy that they made it out without being spotted. The mood died down a little when Hyunjin spoke.

“Do you think this will be our last time outside for a while?” he questioned, eyes panning over the green hills.

The rest of the boys seemed to ponder his thought. You immediately realized that he was right. It would be smartest for them to stay inside your house as much as possible to avoid being seen.

It hit you again, the severity of what you were doing. Why were you empathizing with these runaways? One of them is a literal monster.

You had an intrusive thought of your own and momentarily considered crashing the car into the nearest tree.

You shook that thought away rather quickly, pinning your eyes back to the road ahead.

The next few days were spent getting closer to the boys and becoming more comfortable with each other. You had found that they were all quite fun and lighthearted despite their situation and you thought that if you had met any of them under different circumstances, you might have been able to be friends with everybody.

By everybody, you meant the other four of their friends back in Seoul. You found out that they all attended university together and that the four you were living with wouldn’t be able to cancel the rest of the semesters they were paying for.

You also decided to cut up their credit cards and burn them in the backyard, just to be safe.

The most exciting thing that had happened since they moved in was Jisung. Minho had crawled out of bed to get you one night so you could see for yourself what happened when Jisung slept. Sure enough, the boy was floating.

He levitated a few feet above the bed and you swiped your hand underneath him just to make sure. You also didn’t miss the quiet mumble of words coming out of his mouth. You weren’t as surprised as you might have been if you hadn’t previously known about it, but it was still pretty unnerving to see with your own eyes. You didn’t want to be scared though, no matter how much it freaked you out. You knew Jisung hated when people were afraid of him.

Minho showed the other boys just to make absolutely sure they knew that Jisung wasn’t lying, and they all talked about it the next morning.

“I’m sorry for accusing you of lying,” Hyunjin said to Jisung.

You nodded, apologizing as well.

“It’s okay,” Jisung said to Hyunjin. He then turned to you and added, “Thank you for letting us stay. I know it’s probably not a comfortable decision.”

They boys had been thanking you profusely for the past couple of days. They had apologized repeatedly as well for being a burden.

You honestly hadn’t felt like they were too much of a burden as you were enjoying the company quite a bit. It got boring out here with nobody to talk to. You were still going to work five days a week at a cafe in the city, but you trusted the boys by now not to wreak havoc at your house.

The days passed pretty quickly with them at home, but you could tell they were getting a little stir crazy. It still wasn’t safe to go outside as their faces were plastered all over newspapers and on TV.

Jisung had been increasingly more paranoid about getting caught and he almost fainted when he heard police sirens drive by outside the house one day. The cars were simply going into the city, but Jisung was a few seconds short of a panic attack anyway. It took Minho, Chan, and Hyunjin to calm him down.

You came home that day to find them all huddled together on the floor of your small bathroom. Jisung was nearly asleep and Minho held a finger up to his lips, silently telling you not to wake him. Your heart broke at the sight of all of their tear stained faces.

You were harshly reminded of how old they all are, nineteen year old Jisung suddenly looking like a child in his friends’ arms.

You settled on making dinner, tofu stew, Jisung’s favorite.

You nearly had a heart attack when somebody knocked on the door. Hyunjin and Chan were sitting with you at the table as you chatted over an afternoon cup of coffee. Minho and Jisung were in their room upstairs.

You glanced through the sheer curtains to see who was outside and you couldn’t miss the tall shadow of your father.

You heard your mother’s voice outside the door and Chan and Hyunjin scrambled up from the table.

Chan darted into the living room, grabbing the blankets and pillows that were on the couch where he’d been sleeping.

Hyunjin ran into your brother’s room to throw all his things under the bed and then quickly ran up to your parents room to warn Minho and Jisung.

You opened the door nervously, a fake smile plastered on your face. Of course you were happy to see them. You hadn’t seen your parents in almost three months, but the surprise visit had you sweating. You absolutely could not let them find out about the four boys who had been living with you.

You walked them into the kitchen, putting some water in the kettle and trying to stall, hoping the boys upstairs could make the rooms look as neat and untouched as possible.

“How have you been, Y/n?” your mom asked with a smile, completely missing the awkward atmosphere.

You cleared your throat and started lying. “I’ve been great! Still working at the cafe,” you said, trying not to show that you were sweating. You heard a small scuffle from upstairs and you prayed your father didn’t hear it.

“What was that sound?” he asked. You cursed silently under your breath and turned back to the stove.

“I think there’s a rat in the attic. I haven’t been up there to check, but I’ll call an exterminator tomorrow,” you said. You couldn’t stop the sick feeling in your stomach as your father stood up.

“No need,” he said. “I’ll kill it right now.”

He headed toward the staircase.

You wrung your hands as you followed him up the stairs.

The trapdoor to the attic was at the end of the second floor hallway and you cast a glance into your parents’ room as you passed. The room looked perfect. The bed was made, clothes were hidden, and there wasn’t a stray kid in sight. You let out a little sigh before continuing to follow your dad.

The door to your room was closed, so you figured they were all hiding in your closet or something.

Your father hunted around in the attic for a second, of course not finding any signs of a rat, before making his way back down to the kitchen where you and your mother were preparing lunch.

You almost pulled out enough food for the four boys as well, getting all too familiar with their presence.

“I see you’ve kept the fridge stocked,” your mom pointed out, looking over your shoulder at the generously filled fridge.

“I went shopping yesterday,” you said. It was really hurting your head to lie this much as it wasn’t something you usually did often.

You excused yourself to the bathroom when she was occupied, making sure to hide all of the boys’ toothbrushes and extra shampoo.

You walked on eggshells for the rest of the day, lying your way around conversations and trying to avoid letting your parents into your bedroom or your brother’s room, just in case Hyunjin had left anything out of place.

Your parents told you that they would only be staying for one night and heading out tomorrow. You prayed that they stuck to that as you all headed up to bed after dinner was finished.

“It smells really nice in here!” your mom commented as she stepped into her room for the first time in months. She was probably smelling the coconut shampoo that Minho used, as he usually slept on her side of the bed.

Your head spun as you tried to figure out what to say. “I got a new fabric softener,” you said, hoping to God that they didn’t ask questions. You turned and walked straight into your room, not allowing for any more conversation. You locked the door behind you and Jisung immediately popped out of your closet, dragging Minho by the hand. Hyunjin and Chan rolled out from under the bed. You were all hungry and tired, but you had to find a place for them to stay before you could finally relax into your bed (which was looking extra inviting after your stressful day).

Jisung’s sleep-talking might be loud enough to wake your parents if he was too close to their room, so you figured somewhere outside was the best option.

You knew the gardening shed was waterproof, so you gave the boys some extra blankets and towels from your closet and ushered them toward the window. They would have to drop about sixteen feet to the ground, but the landing was grass so they should be okay. You could tell they weren’t too keen on sleeping in the cold, dark shed, but they realized their lack of options and even the fussy Hyunjin complied without too much complaint. You watched them drop out of the window one by one.

You then made your way downstairs and into the kitchen where you grabbed a few snacks and some bottles of water.

Your tiptoeing seemed impossibly loud as you made your way through the house, almost drowning out the banging of your heart in your chest.

You unlocked the door as quietly as possible and gave the food to Chan, pointing to the shed a few yards past the house.

“They should be leaving tomorrow morning,” you promised. “I’ll come get you when they’re gone.”

He nodded and led the others across the yard silently, Minho pausing to cast one last look at you, giving you a thumbs up through all the blankets he was carrying.

You slept restlessly that night, tossing and turning and repeatedly looking out your window to see if the boys were okay.

To say you looked like shit in the morning was an understatement. Your mom didn’t hesitate to point that out.

“Didn’t sleep well?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I guess not,” It felt good to say something that wasn’t a lie.

Your dad was up soon after, pulling the eggs out of the fridge.

“How does omelets sound?” he asked, already starting on cutting up mushrooms and green onions.

You almost made a joke. Almost.

You realized how much the boys had impacted your life. The past three weeks with them had you feeling so much less lonely and bored. You had become accustomed to Hyunjin’s picky eating and Minsung holding hands. And of course, Chan’s caring nature became comforting to you as well. The four of them were there for you to talk to and rely on.

“–Y/n,” your mom called, waving a small stack of plates in front of you.

You weren’t sure how long she had been calling your name, but you took the plates from her hands and started setting the table.

You bid your parents goodbye after breakfast and saw them out to their car, waiting for them to drive off back towards Seoul before you rushed back into the house. You threw open the back door and ran across the grass to the shed, hesitantly opening the door.

The four boys were huddled on the floor together, Hyunjin still sleeping with his head on Minho’s shoulder, Chan’s long arm wrapped around him. They had laid the towels on the floor of the small enclosure and wrapped themselves up in the blankets, as close to each other as possible to share body heat.

The boys unwrapped themselves slowly from the blankets and you saw Minho’s legs wrapped around Jisung to stop him from going anywhere. Chan looked as tired as ever as he squinted up at you, the sunlight blinding to his unadapted eyes. You figured Jisung’s sleep-talking was keeping him awake all night; you knew how light of a sleeper Chan was.

The boys stumbled blindly across the yard and into the house, Chan nearly carrying Hyunjin. You apologized profusely for making them sleep in the shed, but they didn’t seem mad. After all, it was better than sleeping in jail.

You made them a proper breakfast and sat at the table with them to eat. There were still only four seats, so Jisung sat on Minho’s lap. Neither of them seemed to mind.

“Your father’s voice is really scary, Jisung,” Hyunjin said, a slight bitterness in his voice. You found out that he hadn’t been able to fall asleep until Jisung woke up. He seemed thoroughly creeped out by his friend and Jisung would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt his feelings a little bit.

“Sorry,” Jisung looked down as he spoke, Minho’s arm tightening comfortingly around the boy.

You could tell Chan was also upset at his lack of sleep, but he just finished his breakfast quickly and dragged his tired feet to the couch where he fell asleep in seconds.

Jisung looked uncomfortable and he got up abruptly, shoving Minho’s hand off and leaving the room.

You glanced at Minho, silently wondering what happened, but he shook his head and told you to keep eating.

Jisung had been increasingly sensitive about his father, disliking the way his closest friends were scared of him. He was also ashamed of the intrusive thoughts his father was putting into his head. He had told his father countless times that he wouldn’t harm any of his friends, but he still had visions at least twice a day.

Visions of stabbing a knife into your back while you cooked. Visions of suffocating Hyunjin with a pillow. Visions of strangling Minho, or snapping Chan’s neck the way he’d done to that girl in the convenience store.

They were almost too much to handle and he found himself leaving the room suddenly to avoid hurting anyone.

You were grateful Minho had told you not to go after him. You might not have survived if you’d followed him up the stairs.

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wordsandshawn · 4 years

Text

Before Now - chapter 11

previous chapters

11.

A couple of days later, Shawn’s gone for work again, so I don’t have to worry about running into him. I don’t bother texting or calling him to ask about what my mom mentioned. I don’t know how to bring it up. Despite how much I want to yell him for talking to his mom about me like I’m a charity case or a lost puppy that needs a home, my ego won’t let me reach out to him.

After a week, I’m convinced that Karen was just being nice by trying to push Shawn into taking me on tour, the poor girl whose life is falling apart and who dropped out of college. Shawn probably agreed enough to placate both of our parents, but he had no intention of actually following through with it.

I had almost forgotten about all of that a week later when I receive an email from Andrew, Shawn’s manager. The email details an offer for a three-month-long position on Shawn’s tour. I’d work as his photographer with more of an emphasis on videography. An entire contract is written up, but he says that it can all be discussed in a meeting if I choose to attend. I’d be traveling with Shawn pretty much nonstop throughout the contract, so all travel expenses are paid for, and I’ll get a paycheck on top of that. In my opinion, a very generous one especially considering I have so little experience doing concert photography. Any reservations I may have had about spending three months following Shawn around are overshadowed completely by the opportunity to get paid to travel the world and take pictures, which is honestly all I’ve ever wanted in life. I just never thought I’d actually get a chance to do it. And I didn’t want it to be because Shawn felt bad for me or because his mom made him do it.

Despite this, I agree to talk to Andrew about it and we schedule a meeting. I was not expecting to see Shawn in this meeting, but he’s the first person I see when I walk in the room that morning. He’s sitting at the head of the big conference table staring down at his phone. There are a few other people in the room besides Shawn and Andrew, and they’re all dressed professionally. I introduce myself to them and they share that this meeting is mostly to discuss my contract and the outlines of the contract since they’ve already seen my work and are interested in hiring me.

I didn’t expect Shawn to be here, seeing as it didn’t seem to have much to do with him at all. What came as even more of a surprise was how involved he was once the meeting began. I was unprepared and unsure of how to even negotiate. Shawn, on the other hand, clearly had some experience with meetings like this one. He was undoubtedly paying attention, and it soon became clear he was looking out for me in terms of the contract. I, obviously, don’t know much about anything to do with working as a photographer for concerts.

If left on my own in the meeting, I probably would have done all of it for free, and I would have slept in the back of a van if I had to, scraping together enough money one way or another to pay for my food. I was not going to be picky or difficult about this. I would take what I could get because in all honesty, I had nothing to offer and experience to gain. Even just being able to write on a future resume that I had photographed Shawn for the duration of an entire tour would give me more credibility than I could get working my ass off on my own. The experience alone provided more than enough incentive to say yes to whatever they asked of me and not ask for more than the absolute bare necessities.

If I didn’t know any better, I could have easily assumed that Shawn was there for me, to get me the best deal. Almost like everything more that I asked for was not coming out of his own income. He sat in the meeting, going over the contract more carefully than even I did, asking questions that I wouldn’t have thought to ask. All I knew about this job was that I was taking photographs, putting together short movies for him to post on Instagram and for them to sell to various sources. That’s all that really mattered to me, but Shawn asked about sleeping arrangements, about hotel rooms for whenever he stayed in hotels. That wasn’t something that was in the contract until Shawn brought it up, and they agreed to write it in. Another thing he inquired about that I hadn’t thought of and wouldn’t have brought up myself was flights. He let them know that if he was flying somewhere, I should too. At first, it didn’t make sense until I realized that some of his shows were on the same landmasses but very far, so Shawn flew, but most of the crew would just travel by road, and if he hadn’t put that stipulation in, I would have been with them, which I wouldn’t have argued about.

I still don’t fully understand how all of this stuff works, but Shawn has to be behind all of this. They sell him, his music, his face, his fame, and the money he makes gets distributed in whatever way to the people who put him out there or back him, or somehow contribute to making this all work. He has to know that everything more he asks for me to be written into the contract is less that he gets at the end of it all. I don’t understand why he’s even taking a chance on me, bothering to bring me onto the tour when I’m really just another expense. But I’m too afraid to ask. My mom always said don’t ever look a gift horse in the mouth. I don’t know exactly what that means, but I know not to ask questions when something comes along just when I need it most.

Other than sitting in the same room and Shawn talking about me and the contract, we don’t talk directly to each other much at all throughout the meeting. I don’t know how to talk to him anymore anyway, and I know it’s better this way. I’ll go on tour with him, but only as his photographer and nothing more. It’s a silent agreement between the two of us, at least I think so. He’s doing it as a favor to our moms, and maybe deep inside he’s doing it as a favor to me, not that I really deserve a favor from him. I don’t want to feel like I owe him anything, but I already feel like I owe him everything. I have to earn my place on this tour, and if I don’t then I can’t stay. I’ve already decided.

Any contact I have with Shawn in the next week before leaving for tour is strictly business. I get the sense that he’s not entirely interested in being friends, and it gives me at least some peace of mind about this all. I’m not the same person I was when we dated, and I’m not the same person I was over a year ago the last time we talked. He doesn’t need to know that or the me I am now. I work for him, so as long as I do my job and take good pictures, my personal life shouldn’t matter.

I leave a week after the contract is signed. I don’t have much to say goodbye to that I haven’t already said goodbye to. The twins are already moved into their college dorm, and Noah is excited to finally have his shot at being an only child. My mom’s just glad I won’t be sitting on the couch all semester, and my dad, well, he doesn’t really say much.

From the very first day of tour, I’m immediately overwhelmed. I have so much to learn. Tour life is so different than anything I’ve ever experienced. I’m not sure how to approach it at first, but then I get caught up in the excitement of getting to shoot and practice photography, and suddenly it becomes all about that. I’ve always had a passion for photography but getting to photograph someone with so much passion for what he’s doing has opened up a whole new world for me. When I’m hidden behind my camera, looking through the lens and waiting to get the perfect shot, I forget anything and everything else.

The traveling is exhausting, but being on the road all the time, and being constantly busy, either traveling or filming or editing leaves little time for me to think or really do anything but work. Healthy or not, it is honestly the only way I’ve learned to cope. Keeping busy like this is the only way I know how to be okay right now.

The first few shows honestly pass in a blur. I’m learning faster than I’ve ever learned anything before, and yet it still seems like I’m not keeping up, not learning fast enough. It’s like being thrown into the deep end of a pool and having to learn to swim.

None of my photography classes could have even come close to preparing me for this experience. I’m quickly discovering that it really is a full-time job, and I’m exhausted after just the first week. I spend all my time shooting or editing or sleeping. Between the constant traveling, filming, and editing, I really don’t have much left in me by the end of the day. I honestly don’t know how Shawn does what he does, actually getting on stage and performing every night has to be exhausting in itself, not to mention the meet and greets, soundchecks, and press.

The crew has been very welcoming, but it’s hard for me to force myself to open up to them or let myself be included, partially because I’m so busy and exhausted with all the work I’m doing, and also because I’m just not exactly comfortable with them. I’m sure they’re all great people, and it really is just a personal issue, but it’s been hard lately for me to get out of my comfort zone any more than I’ve already been pushed by coming on this tour.

It feels safer to just keep to myself. I hate to admit it, but it also probably has to do with the fact that Shawn’s team is predominantly male, at least the people who I come into contact with most. Even though they invite me to hang out with them, I’m not exactly in a place where I want to be surrounded by alcohol and dudes. And hanging out with Shawn is practically out of the picture. Not that he’s going out of his way to invite me to hang out with him, but the mobs of people he tends to attract genuinely freak me out even though I’d never want to admit it out loud.

I find that most of the time I spend with Shawn, I’m hiding behind my camera. It’s my way of protecting myself from getting close to anyone here. I’ve never been the type of person to document everything, but all of a sudden, it’s my job and I’m clinging to the security of the camera more than ever I thought I would.

It’s our first night in a hotel since the start of tour a week ago. When we finally get there, I go straight to my room, excited to have my own space for the first time in a week. Its already nearly midnight. I thought I was exhausted, but once I get to my hotel room. The reality hits me that I’m all alone, and I can’t fall asleep. I guess there’s something comforting about the feeling of the bus bumping along through the dark on a freeway headed somewhere. I’ve grown used to the rocking of the bus and the tiny space in my bunk where I sleep pressed up against the wall. Now, the large hotel bed in the middle of the room that appears way too big for just one person isn’t as welcoming as I expected it to be. I thought I’d sleep like a baby, it being my first night in a real bed in over a week, but much to my disappointment, I tossed and turned for over an hour before finally deciding to give up on sleeping at all.

If I can’t fall right to sleep, I don’t really want to just lay in the dark. Lately, I’ve found it hard to sleep, especially because I find myself waking up in the middle of the night because of nightmares. At least in the bus, I can hear all the normal sounds, and I can quickly remind myself of where I am, of how far I am from where I used to be. I have never felt alone on the bus because I’m never really alone. Even though I don’t talk to the band a whole lot or see Shawn much, it is comforting knowing that I am surrounded by so many people who are all sleeping peacefully. I can tell because someone is always snoring. When I wake up from nightmares on the bus, I press myself up against the wall, trying to force my pounding heart to slow. As I lay there in the dark, the moving bus brings me comfort and eventually, my breathing evens out enough for me to fall back asleep.

Tonight, there are no sounds except the occasional sound of footsteps walking down the hallway and the muffled sounds of talking or doors closing. I turn the light on and decide to do some editing, since sleep seems to be off the table. Its nearly three am and sleep still hasn’t come. I’m feeling lonelier than ever. I know that most of the crew went out tonight, since we have an off day tomorrow. I opted to stay in, thinking I might be able to catch up on sleep since I haven’t slept well in so long. Now that I realize I can’t even sleep, I’m starting to regret not going out. At the very least, I could be drunk right now. And if I’m forced to be awake, I’d rather be intoxicated.

When I finally can’t take the being alone anymore, I grab my laptop, pull a sweatshirt on over my tank top, and head down to the lobby. Even if I’m still going to be alone, at least there are other people there. I settle into a sofa and watch tired-looking people come and go while I try to get some work done.

I’ve been engrossed in my editing for a while when I finally look up because I see movement. The lobby has been pretty empty for a while considering it’s the middle of the night, but I notice a couple. I’m about to go back to my work, not thinking much of them at first when the guy makes me take a closer look. When I do, I realize it’s Shawn and a girl I’ve never seen before. I know I shouldn’t be surprised. I assumed that he hooked up before, and even often, but I never really thought about having to see him and his girl for the night. I quickly look back down, hoping that he won’t notice me. Luckily, the elevator opens and the two of them disappear inside without a glance in my direction.

After they’re gone, I turn back to edit, but my mind is everywhere else. Of course, Shawn goes out and brings girls back to his hotel room. He’s a twenty-one-year-old musician who also happens to look like a model. I try not to think about it, but there’s a feeling that’s made it's home in the pit of my stomach since seeing Shawn and whoever it was he took upstairs. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know why I feel it, but I close my laptop and return to my room, hoping morning will come quickly.

Chapter 12

#Shawn Mendes #Shawn Peter Raul Mendes #Shawn Peter Raul Mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes imagine #Shawn mendes story #Before Now

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multimetaverse · 5 years

Text

HSMTMTS 1x10 Review

Act 2 was a great finale that capped off a great season though somewhat marred by Disney censorship. Let’s dig in!

Finally Ricky and Nini have found their way back to each other. Sweet callback to Ricky lighting Nini up with his phone as Nini does the same. Breaking Free was great though I had to keep pausing during the EJ to Ricky transition because it was so cringey. Ricky and Nini really do have the best chemistry on the show and it shines through this ep. Joshua did a great job improvising Ricky’’s confession to Nini as did Olivia reacting to it. Tim mentioned in an interview that originally Ricky was supposed to tell Nini that he thinks he kinda you knows in a callback to the premiere but on set he realized that it was too cheesy and decided to let Joshua come up with a confession based on memories of his and Olivia’s real life friendship. That was certainly the steamiest kiss we’ve yet seen on Disney + but it was well earned

It speaks well of Tim that he recognized that his own writing wasn’t good enough and that he trusted his actors to take charge. It also goes to show how much of a difference it makes having the showrunner actually on set in Salt Lake, whether that was Tim or Disney’s decision. It’s a sharp contrast with Andi Mack where Terri the showrunner was based in LA and only rarely visited set while Michelle Manning was the producer in charge in Salt Lake, a split which I think hurt the show in some ways

That rainbow heart sign from the Mathew-Smith family was lovely. It’s great to see Seb’s family of Utah farmers being so supportive. This also confirms that Seb is out to his family, and since Miss Jenn seemed to greet Carlos’ father near the beginning of the ep it’s likely that Carlos is also out to his family

A historic first for Disney with a Seblos cheek kiss. Though of course while it’s progress it still isn’t equality. It’s not so much the Rini kisses that really drives home the inequality since they’re the main couple and were always going to kiss in the finale but rather it’s the Redlyn kiss. It’s not like Redlyn has gotten any real development nor did their story line really need a kiss so early. They got to kiss simply because they’re straight. That being said, it does once more show that the limits are looser on Disney +, we never would have gotten even a Tyrus cheek kiss on Disney Channel

Unfortunately Disney for the second ep this season released promotional photos of Seblos scenes that were cut from the episode itself. It’s not queerbaiting in the traditional sense but it is baiting the audience as they know that a lot of people are very invested in Seblos and seeing that rep on screen and Disney is willing to use that to draw in viewers while cutting the actual on screen rep down. What’s worse is that if it wasn’t for Disney itself letting us know that these scenes existed we’d never know that Seblos scenes were being cut. And of course, it’s a waste of time and money for the show to film these scenes only for them to be cut. A big complaint with Seblos this season has been their lack of development but that seems to be less on the writers who are in fact giving them more scenes then on Disney which is cutting them down to the bare minimum

It’s all shameless triangulation on Disney’s part, trying to be progressive but not so progressive as to alienate conservatives. It’s not like any homophobes are still watching the show after Seblos got together. So far it seems like the Disney censorship on HSMTMTS is coming mainly in post production like it was in Andi Mack S2 with the cut bash mitzvah scene and the edited look back which is awful but is still better than the much heavier censorship we saw in Andi Mack S3 that was coming in pre-production when things like Cyrus being able to talk about his feelings for TJ and vice versa were just never being written. Hopefully Seb being a main character in S2 means that the censorship lessens at least a bit or at the very least stays in the post production stage

In an interview done early on in the season, Tim talked about sometimes taking giant leaps and some times taking small steps in terms of the representation on the show and know we have a much better sense of what that means in practice. There was the giant leap of Seblos getting together at Homecoming and the small step of them kissing on the cheek. Afaik Tim hasn’t addressed the Seblos cheek kiss which is probably for the best and if he does I hope he has the good grace to not lie to the audience about his ability to have gotten an actual Seblos kiss approved. I do think we’ll eventually see a Seblos kiss though I think the earliest that could happen would be the S2 finale

Very telling that Ashlyn assumes EJ is behind Ricky’s exit and not a good look on EJ’s part to not tell Miss Jenn at least that Ricky left. . Good for him though for playing to lose and giving up the role of Troy to help Nini and Ricky. Confirmation that he paid for Gina’s ticket and we got our first Hell Yeah on the show. I don’t like it but it does seem like that scene was set up for Portwell in S2; at the very least it seems like Gina may have started to feel something for EJ

Pour one out for those poor audience members having to sit through that trainwreck of a second act. You know you’re really in trouble when you have to send your choreographer out there as an understudy

I loved Big Red’s little xylophone during the intermission

Nice to see Nini and Gina end on a friendly, supportive note. Hopefully that continues next season

Kudos to Olivia and Matt for really selling the high school theatre actors barely keeping it together on stage aspect of the performance. Nini and EJ have so little chemistry that it’s almost hard to remember that they were dating for several months

Mr Darbus’ office set looked great. Nice touch to have Miss Jenn mouthing the lyrics to Wondering off stage

Lynne really sucks. Can’t say I’d miss her if we don’t see her in S2

Will be interesting to see how Miss Jenn and Mr. Mazzara save their jobs

Realistically I don’t think Nini’s performance was strong enough to earn a spot at YAC; someone like Gina or Seb would have been a much more credible choice imo. Nice touch to have the Dean leave through one door and Ricky the other

Now that the season is done it’s hard to see any traces of whatever more mature direction former showrunner Oliver Goldstick wanted to go in. The whole season seems very coherent and consistent in terms of tone. We did learn from Tim and Olivia that her song All I Want was a re-shoot so maybe it was a replacement for a song or scene that was pushing the envelope more than Tim and Disney wanted

One thing that may or may not be connected is that EJ’s panic attacks from the original character breakdown made no appearance this season and who knows if we’ll ever seen EJ having panic attacks or suffering from anxiety. Disney seemingly had no trouble showing Jonah’s panic attacks on Andi Mack which is doubtless where HSMTMTS took the idea from but it’s also true that Jonah’s anxiety story line was abandoned halfway through S3 and though it’s likely just the result of bad writing it can’t be ruled out that Disney got cold feet over focusing on mental health in both Andi Mack and HSMTMTS

Looking Ahead:

One benefit of this review being so late is that we now know the spring muscial! Beauty and the Beast which seems to suggest that all future musicals will be Disney owned properties

Tim also confirmed that they will still be incorporating songs from HSM 2 and 3 into the show which will certainly help pad out the 16 extra songs they’ll be doing in S2. Having 12 eps will be a big help to the show; 10 eps just wasn’t enough to properly deal with all the characters and plots

HSMTMTS really turned out to be a delight and while I think S2 will be as well there are definitely potential issues ahead that will need to be deftly dealt with. Nini either going away to YAC and then coming back to SLC or just not going to YAC is probably going to be wrapped up in an unsatisfying manner. In all honesty this kind of plot would have worked much better if it had been saved for Nini’s senior year

Whatever plan Ashlyn is cooking up to keep Gina in SLC is also probably going to be poorly done as there’s no reason Gina’s mother would willingly leave her daughter in another state

EJ is either leaving the show after he graduates or they’re going to have to contrive some way to keep him around East High in future seasons

Seb now being a main will be interesting, if nothing else to see what Disney’s limits are. Tim has hinted at their being drama for Seblos in S2 and I hope that it serves to develop them and is not just a means to keep them apart so there can be two gay mains but no gay relationship. As an aside Tim revealed that Joe originally auditioned for EJ which is wild; it’s funny that both Joshua Rush and Joe Serafini auditioned for EJ when neither of them had any realistic chance of being cast

I have no strong feelings on the cast list for Beauty and the Beast though I do think it’s likely that either Kourtney or Gina end up playing Belle as I think having a black girl play Belle is just the type of subversion that would appeal to Tim. Miss Jenn did say that she wanted Kourtney to come speak to her over break and while Gina is a bigger character I’m not sure if Sofia’s singing is quite good enough to carry the lead in the musical while I think Dara’s definitely is

I’d say it’s very likely EJ ends up either as the beast or as Gaston since he’s in what should be his last semester. And if Gina also gets a big role it would make it easier to play with Portwell in S2. If EJ is the beast I could see Seb getting Gaston in another subversion of expectations. Regardless I think with Seb now being a main and with Joe having one of the strongest voices in the cast that he’ll play an important role

Until next season Wildcats

#HSMTMTS #Rini #Seblos #Ricky Bowen #Nini Salazar-Roberts #seb mathew-smith #carlos rodriguez #EJ Caswell #Gina Porter #HSMTMTS Reviews

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imaginationintowords · 5 years

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Not Good Enough *part four*

Avengers x Reader miniseries

word count: 2019

Plot: Reader has her first day at her new job, and then gets a surprise visit.

Part one Part two Part three

[a/n: Sorry it took so long, school got really busy. But I am officially done with this semester. Hopefully this was worth the wait! The next part will be the last! Also if I forgot to tag you please let me know!]

Tagged: @firstonetoleave @nerdy-jelly-art @const4ntines @coldfacedwarf @mrs-hemmo1999 @l0kisbitch @lula132 @thetimidsarcasticcat @1awesomeash @littlephoenix-🔥 @xxxxnovagalaxyxxxx @inumorph @babymintuniverse @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark @thefridgeismybestie @strangersstranger @dottirose @cremextart @im-just-another-monster @izzy10718 @delicately-important-trash @daniellajocelyn @damn-me-to-hell @leenat23 @universaljasmine @thevanishedillusion @animegirlgeeky @taddlitu

Permanent tagged: @purplesatinsheets @definitelynotafangirl @1awesomeash @princess-evans-addict @want-to-watch-it-burn

__________________

My alarm went off at 6 a.m. I started with a shower and got ready for my first day at Oscorp.

I looked at the clock and it read 7:15. I had to leave in the next 5 minutes if I wanted to get to Oscorp by 8.

I walked into the kitchen to find my grandma pouring coffee into a travel cup for me.

“Good morning.” she smiled handing me the closed cup.

“Morning.” I smiled back, taking a sip of the hot caffeinated beverage.

“How’d you sleep?” she asked, taking a sip of her own coffee.

“Okay. I’m anxious to start the day.” I tell her.

“I’m sure everything will go smoothly.” she positively reassures me.

“I better go if I don’t want to be late.” I tell her grabbing my bag and heading for the door.

“Have a good day.” she calls out.

“Thanks.” I call back opening the front door to be greeted by an orchid on the floor.

I picked it up and placed it on the table by the door. I grabbed the card, it read:

“[Y/N], I know I’m the last person you want to see/talk to. Please we need to talk. -Tony.”

I pocketed the card and left, closing the front door behind me.

The best thing for me to do is to push Tony, and the rest of the Avengers to the back of my mind.

I got to Oscorp with 5 minutes to spare. I sat in the lobby waiting for Norman.

“[Y/N]!” I heard a few minutes later.

“Hi, Mr. Osborn.” I stood up, shaking his hand.

“What did I say, call me Norman.” he greeted.

“Right. That’ll take some getting used to.”

“Come on, let me show you around, before I take you to the lab.” he smiles.

Norman spent the first hour giving me a thorough tour of Oscorp. Things like where the cafeteria is at, restrooms, certain offices, etc.

“Now time to show you where you’ll be making the magic happen.” he says as we get into the elevator. He presses the 8 button.

“Floors 8-12 are the lab floors. 8 is where you’ll be stationed mostly at.”

The doors open and we’re greeted by a completely blinding floor. Everything is white with blinding fluorescent lights. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

“We are currently focused on making clean reusable energy accessible to everyone. Starting here in New York, then nationwide, then the world.” he optimistically explained, walking in front of her.

I take a look around. A lot of the equipment looks similar to what we were using at Stark Industries. But I know for a fact that Oscorp is at least 3 years behind Stark.

“Obviously with your help we’ll be able to achieve that goal faster.”

“I hope so.” I wearily say, trying to keep up with Norman’s quick pace.

“Oh I know so.” he remarks, glancing towards her.

“I’m sure you know all about this type of technology because of Stark.” he says.

“Uh not really.” I hesitate.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t work in the clean energy department at Stark Industries.” I lie, “I was basically Tony’s assistant.

It didn’t feel right telling Norman what I did with Tony. Whatever happened between Tony and I won’t be a proper excuse for selling Tony out. He’s been working on all of this far longer than I’ve been involved.

"Tony really wasted your abilities on just being his assistant." Norman scoffs.

We walk into another portion of the lab to be greeted by a man around my age.

"And here he is. [Y/N] this is Doctor Brendan Octavius. Brendan this is the brilliant [Y/F/N]. You two will be working alongside together." Norman introduces us.

"Nice to meet you." he extends his hand.

"You too." I politely say.

"Well, I'll leave you two to it." Norman nods his head, and goes off on his own way.

"So we're working on a new clean energy prototype to show to the governor."Brendan explains to me.

"Oh. The governor?" I questioned.

"Yeah. He wants to look for other ways to provide reusable energy for the smaller urban cities."

"Oh. That's amazing." I try and genuinely say.

Little does he know the governor has already signed a huge deal with Stark Industries. It was supposed to be announced next week, on Earth Day.

"When Tony Stark announced his clean energy initiative, Norma was so upset. Rightfully so. Stark has way more help due to his daddy's money." he rants on.

I wince a little at that comment.

"Everyone only agrees with him because he's Iron Man." he rolls his eyes, as he continues his rant.

"Well, tony has been working towards this for ten plus years." I hesitantly say, starting to get slightly offended.

"He does have a lot of leeway because he is Iron Man, but his credibility is reliable." I continue, watching Brendan's reaction become even more sour.

"You work for Oscorp now. Are we going to have a loyalty issue here? Because from what I heard, Stark had no problem getting rid of you." he glares at me, I can just feel the hatred and anger coming off of him, scaring me a bit.

"No. There won't be any issues." I tell him, slowly backing away from his intense glare.

What the hell have I gotten myself into.

For the rest of the day I remained quiet, just following closely to what Brendan was doing.

By the end of the day I just wanted to go home. Throughout the day Brendan kept talking down on me, as if I had no clue what he was working on. He put me down at any chance he got. I just wanted to get home and have big glass of wine and a hot bath.

As I walk down the hall towards the apartment, I notice someone sitting down in front of it. As I got closer the person notices me.

"James? What are you doing here?" I ask the man, as I stop in front of him.

"Hey. No one answered, so I thought I would just wait." he said pointing to the door, as he gets up from his spot in front of it.

"My grandma goes to bingo on Monday nights." I tell him.

"Can we please talk?" he asks, pleading with his eyes.

"Sure. Come in." I say opening the door and letting him inside.

I drop my stuff on the kitchen counter and let out a sigh.

"Want anything to drink?" I ask grabbing the wine and glasses.

"No thank. I'm good." he says eyeing my pouring the wine almost to the brim of the glass.

"Rough day?" he asks, sitting down on a stool at the counter.

"Rough month." I say taking a sip, but keeping eye contact with him.

"About that. That's what I came here to talk about."

"You can save the schpeel. I heard Tony and Steve when they came by yesterday." I tell him, taking another sip.

"You didn't hear the whole thing. Plus it's me, I wouldn't bullshit you." he tells me.

"Wouldn't you? Steve is your best friend."

"Yeah, but he's fucking idiot. Him and Tony. They handled everything all wrong. I wasn't there, but from what I heard you didn't deserve that kind of treatment." he says.

"But didn't I? I fucked up that mission badly. People got hurt. You got hurt." I tell him, feeling my eyes start to tear up.

After the day I had, there was no use in hiding my emotions, not around Bucky.

Bucky and I had gotten close this past year, since he got back from Wakanda. We were just enjoying each other's company, no added pressure. Our job comes with enough of that, you don't really want that to follow your personal life.

We provided each other with a safe haven. We went to each other whenever we were having a hard time. Free of judgment. Nothing physical had happened between us, besides the occasional falling asleep in the other's bed after a bad night.

There was an unspoken rule between us, there was no rush. Bucky was just getting used to the modern world, after coming back from Wakanda. He was still adjusting to the modern New York life. We also respected each other too much to rush it. It'll happen when it does, and I'm willing to wait as long as James needed.

"I'm sorry." he apologizes at the sight of tears, he come sup to wrap his arms around me. I graciously accept them.

"It's not your fault." I sniffle.

"I should've noticed sooner you weren't home. We all just assumed you were avoiding us." He said, rubbing my back gently.

"I was." I sniffled some more, his grip getting tighter.

After a few moments, I calmed down and pulled away from Bucky.

"I'm good now." I tell him, looking up at him.

"You sure?" his hand loosely on my hips.

"Yeah. I'm good." I reassure him, giving him a smile.

"Can we talk about what happened? If you're up for it. I just need to understand." he softly says.

"Sure. Lets go sit." I say leading him towards the couch.

We sat down a cushion apart, facing each other.

"What don't you understand?" I ask, my arm draped on the back of the couch.

"Why you left." he says, also draping his arm on the back of the couch.

"Because I'm not cut out to be an Avenger. I'm the weakest link." I tell him.

"Bullshit. Where'd you get that from?" he says flabbergasted.

"Everyone."

"What? No one thinks that. No one has ever thought that before. " he says confused.

"Don't lie. You don't need to protect my feelings anymore." I roll my eyes.

"Come on [Y/N], why the hell would I ever lie to you. We don't do that." he stresses seriously, "Tony and Steve were complete dicks with how they treated you. You never deserved that."

"Yes I did. I fucked up, and critically injured the team." I tell him, feeling myself becoming aggravated.

"Stop. Stop it." he says, becoming more frustrated.

"That was not your fault. You lost control, but the type of powers you have are still developing. You haven't even had your time abilities for a year. They're still new to you. Tony and Steve knew that. It was a chance they wanted to take, you were even unsure about it, you told them that. What happened back there should've been on them. You can only hold time for so long before you get tired. But that doesn't make you weak, it just means you're still learning. The same happens with Wanda, doesn't make it her fault." Bucky explains.

"Please believe me when I say, this wasn't your fault. Believe me when I say, you aren't the weakest member of this team. You're one of the strongest and smartest. Whatever, or whoever made you believe otherwise is completely wrong." he passionately says.

I was overcome with emotion, and couldn't help the tears falling down my face.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of this alone. I'm sorry you ever had those thoughts." he begins, gently wiping the tears off my face.

"We need you [Y/N]. I need you." he says, looking me in the eyes. I look into his to see the tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

"What if I lose control again? What if next time it costs someone's life?" I say.

"What if you don't?"

"I'm scared." I confess to him, choking up.

"Aren't we all? Isn't that what makes us human?" he softly says, rubbing my hand.

"We need you [Y/N]." he says holding my hand.

"Please, can you come back home?" he says, the words getting caught in his throat as he fights back his tears.

"Okay. Since you asked so nicely." I joked, cutting the tension.

"Thank-you." he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, smiling so big. He scooted closer and gave me a hug.

"I'll just have to go down to Oscorp tomorrow and let Norman know I'll be leaving." I tell him, as we pull apart.

"While you do that, I'll head back to the compound and let everyone know you're coming back." he smiles, my stomach and face dropping a little.

"It's going to be okay. Trust me. Everyone is going to be over the moon to see you. I promise." he reassures me, I nod in response.

"Can you do me one favor?" I ask him.

"Anything."

"Can you please stay the night with me?" I ask.

"Of course." he smiles, standing up from the couch, and holding out his hand. I smile grabbing it as he pulls me up.

"Lead the way."

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fledglingthieves · 4 years

Photo

𝙱𝙸𝙾𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚈

to say the least, simon wasn’t meant to be born. his father was married and his wife was already pregnant. simon was the product of a brief affair between his father and his secretary. needless to say, simon’s step-mother wasn’t pleased to see that her husband had fathered a child with another woman while she was pregnant

his maternal grandparents were rather conservative and weren’t happy to see that their oldest daughter had gotten knocked up to a married man, especially when she herself remained unmarried

when he was about four, his mother dropped him off at his father’s house for them to raise instead, but his step-mother wouldn’t raise another woman’s child in her house. his father and step-mother already had a strained relationship because of the affair, so simon and his older half-sister, min, were shipped off to their paternal grandparent’s home

min, eventually, returned to their father and her mother’s home, but simon remained with his paternal grandparents - it was clear his step-mother wouldn’t accept his presence

in fact, the only one who seemed to care about simon unrelentingly was his sister. her visits were the one thing he looked forward to, especially in the midst of his elderly grandparents

when min turned eighteen, simon jumped on her plan to leave from home with the money they’d saved over the years; he’d always been eager to leave behind the family that had never wanted him to begin with

together, they became petty criminals, stealing and selling and forging and doing whatever jobs they needed to get buy, whether it was working with other petty criminals or dirty cops

but min, apparently, saw the potential in simon and insisted he go off to college with money he didn’t know she’d even saved. if anyone else had told him. simon would’ve said no – but because it was min, he agreed to lave

it took him longer to graduate as he worked as a part-time student and took semesters off to save up more money working odd jobs. he focused on psychology and criminology, despite the fact that his real passion was history, because he knew he could make a decent career out of it

he managed to find work - and reunite with his sister - in seattle. yes, simon technically works as a field investigator, but he’s no fan of most law enforcement. he enjoys studying the behavior of others and observing the evidence he’s left behind. the fact that it guides him away from the easier mistakes that other criminals make is certainly a plus

𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙽𝙴𝙶𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽

for the longest time, simon assumed he had no abilities; he could never do anything flashy or change his appearance or see or hear anything different than the average person. it wasn’t until he noticed the trend of other people’s abilities not working in his presence that he realized something strange was about him specifically

he doesn’t exactly have the easiest time controlling his negation. it works through physical contact - there are occasions when simon touches someone and has no issue, but other times they temporarily lose control of their ability. because simon grew up feeling ostracized from his family, he knew his power would and could ostracize him from mutant communities. for that reason, he typically wears gloves and goes out of his way to avoid touching people

𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙿𝙻𝙾𝚃𝚂 / 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂

childhood acquaintances: simon is originally from new york city, but he was never great at socializing with others, even as a kid. he likely didn’t have many friends and was known as that ‘weird kid next door’

old tutees: he enjoys teaching and spent a lot of his childhood reading and learning, so he could’ve offered his services over the internet ( or in person ) for different classes, especially for history and language classes

students and professors at the university: technically, simon isn’t enrolled at the university in seattle, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t spend time around campus or try to sit in on a few lectures, if the professors will let him, of course

petty criminals: criminals simon would’ve worked with back when he was eighteen along with his sister, min

current criminals: either npc or an actual character, information that simon has provided to the police could have made people wind up in prison or with probation or stuck with heavy fines

law enforcement: either dirty cops or police officers that follow the law exactly, simon’s worked with a lot of them in the past

people who frequent bar87: since his sister works there, simon spends his fair share of time there too. sometimes he’s there for drinks, other times he can be found just quietly reading in the corner

vigilantes: simon, in the barest sense, is not a fan of people who try and use their powers for “the greater good”. he’s never liked the idea of “superheroes”, not because they’re doing good, per say, but because of the false sense of hope they create. he knows they’re popular, so he won’t openly oppose them, but he’s never been a supporter of the “hero business”

people he’s harmed in the past: perhaps someone he’s stolen from or assaulted or committed some other act before in the past and they still hold a grudge against him for it

drug dealer: in the past, i had simon taking prescription sleep medication and i’m not entirely sure if i want to keep that yet or not, but he definitely takes something he’s not supposed to

#singularisintro #drug mention tw

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vmheadquarters · 5 years

Text

We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected! Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. — Chapter Ten of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @loveobsessed2. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.11 from @pepandliv1 -tag, you’re it!

—————————————————————————————————— CHAPTER TEN by @loveobsessed2

“Mac? How long have you been here? Do you have internet access? What are you looking at? Are you involved in the mystery? Another fake victim? How and when did you get here? Oooh, can I have some of your chips?”

Mac immediately turned the bag in their direction and spoke a little louder than normal to be heard over Veronica’s crunching.

“Hey, Bond, slow down. I arrived the same way you did, just a day earlier. I didn’t know you were gonna be here, but once I saw your name on the final list, I was really hoping you’d find me. I have a few questions of my own, but you know I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Logan pulled the other two chairs back from the table and gestured for V to sit down. She offered him the bag of chips as she complied.

“Did you know Mac was here?”

“Nope, I’m just as surprised as you are.” His voice was light as he tossed a chip up in the air, expertly catching it in his teeth, and using his tongue to bring it fully into his mouth.

Veronica’s eyes were riveted on his mouth as she quipped, “Two happy surprises in one day. How did I get so lucky?

“I’ll show you lucky.” He waggled his eyebrows as she flushed.

“I can see that your reunion is going well.” Mac cleared her throat to regain their attention before finding herself in a very awkward situation. “When I first found out you were here, I was contemplating ways I could bring you two together from behind the scenes. Of course, that was before an actual dead body was discovered.”

“Smart thinking on staying hidden from the rest of the guests. We all know everyone is a suspect.” Logan tensed next to her, and Veronica reached out for his hand then hurried to add, “Present company excluded. And Wallace of course.”

“Of course," Mac agreed. "What do you want to know? You already met my roommate, Jen.”

“Jen is your roommate? What happened to Parker?” Veronica was noticeably confused.

“I’m so glad you listen when I talk, Veronica. I told you, Parker didn't come back this semester and is already partially into her sophomore year at a local college in Denver. Jen has been my roommate since October. I like her much better than the emo chick I was assigned at the start of the semester. Bonus points that when she throws a party I make money, instead of getting stuck chatting with random strangers who tease me about my name and offer me apples. I know I told you all about the murder mystery side gig I’ve been helping out with. How else did you think Wallace scored an invite?” Mac paused to let that settle in and allowed her expression to show her satisfaction that she knew something before Veronica. “You’re welcome by the way. I’m the one who suggested his invite specify a female plus-one.” Mac gestured to the happy couple. “Based on the two of you being attached at the hip since your arrival, I’m assuming my plan worked.”

Logan and Veronica shared a look and then smiled at Mac. It was all the proof she needed.

“So, what’s with Duncan and Norris and Leo? How do they all fit into the master plan?”

“I wasn’t in on any of that. Jen said Duncan and Norris were sent by Mistress X. She didn’t let on if she knew Duncan was--or still is-- a fugitive. I'm assuming the rest of the team is also in her employ. Jen is the only one I’ve had contact with. All I know about Leo is what I overheard from the guests over the security feed.”

“Security feed? You’ve been recording us? Like, with hidden cameras?!”

“Where? Why didn’t we see them?!”

“We always have cameras. And listening devices. It’s how we make sure the guests stay safe. And offer the less intelligent ones some extra clues. You wouldn’t believe how much people don’t notice.” The two girls shared a knowing look until Mac broke eye contact. “I’m just sorry I disabled the ones in your room once I heard Logan come in.”

“Dang it! I thought we finally had a way to figure out who pushed you.” Logan rejoined the conversation.

“I can’t believe there are hidden cameras and I didn’t even think to look for them. Someone has been distracting me recently.” Veronica shot Logan a pointed look. “Let’s not even get into the fact that that same someone could be voted ‘least likely to see a hidden camera.’”

“Well ex-cu-use me for thinking there were more important things to focus on. Like maybe making sure no one else died?” Logan’s sarcastic and condescending retort did nothing but further raise Veronica’s hackles.

“You guys…” Mac’s voice doesn’t even register with them.

Veronica didn’t attempt to soften her words as she spat out, “Are you implying I wasn’t? Being the most observant person in the room isn’t easy. Especially when I’m surrounded by a bunch of rich pampered idiots. Let’s not forget their king - the only guy I know who could live somewhere for most of his life and fail to notice that his favorite hang-out contained not one, but two hidden cameras.”

Giving up any pretense she’s not hanging on their every word, Mac propped her feet on the table, and started munching on red vines.

“Oh yes, Sugarpuss, you are the queen of detecting, and we all bow before your greatness.” Logan demonstrated with a flourish of his hand. “You certainly would never have failed to notice a hidden camera.”

“Low blow, Logan, low blow. I’m sorry I was distracted the first time by the revelation that my best friend was being taken advantage of by a psychopath. And how many times do I have to tell you? That. Was. Not. A. Sex. Tape.” She enunciated every word before accusing. “You saw the video, you should know!”

“I didn’t watch the whole thing, but it sure looked like a sex tape to me.”

“What? Did you expect me to play the part of the ever-jealous ex-girlfriend? After Madison?”

“Let’s set the record straight. What happened with Madison is definitely not what you imagined.”

Veronica’s defensive shell began to slip and her voice cracked. “Sure.”

His gaze was vulnerable and sincere as he caught her eyes. “Hey, Veronica,” he soothed, scooting his chair closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “I know, we need to talk about all of this, but let’s dial it back a little.”

“OK,” Veronica whispered, as she buried her face in his side and relaxed into his embrace. “I didn’t realize how fresh it still was.”

“Me neither.” He stroked her hair and planted a kiss on her crown. “I know there’s a lot we need to work through. I am so sorry for hurting you.”

Veronica reached out and gently cradled his face in her hands. “Oh, Logan, I only dated Piz because I couldn’t stand to be alone while you seemed to have moved on so spectacularly without me. I should have tried harder. There’s always hope when it comes to us. There has to be.” She offered him a tentative smile and continued. “I know we’ve messed up a lot in the past, but I really do want to figure this out with you. I’m sick of being without you. A bad day with you is better than a great day with anyone else.”

Logan reached down to cup her face and the hope that shone in his eyes was almost blinding. “No more running?” he whispered.

“No more running,” she assured just before his lips met hers. She wrapped her arms firmly around him in an effort to prove that she was never letting him go again. His strong arms pulled her tight against him, and they got lost in each other as their bodies apologized and soothed in ways that words never could.

The sound of Mac once again clearing her throat jolted them out of their fugue state, and laughter bubbled out of their chests.

"Ok guys, I’m glad you’re finally hashing out some of your issues but there are a little bit more pressing matters at hand. We need to make some kind of plan while we’re still alone.” She paused long enough for them to nod their agreement. “This whole situation is a little out of control. All the mystery actors are staying in the servant’s quarters. I’ll keep an eye on them and report any suspicious activity. You two are with the rest of the guests, so I’m sure you’ve got that side of things covered. I’m bummed I didn’t buy the new Thuraya SatSleeve phone converter case before this trip. If I ever needed a satellite phone it's now.” Mac showed her frustration by smacking her forehead with her palm. “My laptop was connected to the internet before the storm hit. It was a spotty and slow connection, but it was better than the non-connection I have now. Has Wallace had any luck with the phones?"

"No, both landlines have cut cords, so that was a dead end." The slow shake of Logan’s head emphasized his words.

"Right, but surely you’re smart enough to realize your remote-control plane building BFF knows how to splice together a cut cord…" Mac raised an eyebrow in question. “I guess you were already on your way in here when he brought up looking for a tool kit to attempt some diagnostics and repairs.”

"Further proof that every Bond needs a Q." Veronica quipped, with no evidence of her previous vulnerability.

"Truer words were never spoken.” Mac met her friend’s eyes with a grin. “We really need to establish a connection to the outside world. Right now, my phone is as good as a paperweight. I can’t believe none of these spoiled 09ers has a satellite phone. Money is wasted on the rich."

“I take offense to that!” Logan interjected. “I’ve never been in a position to need a satellite phone until pretty much right now. I should’ve known better than to believe Dick when he told me all of our needs would be taken care of, and all we had to do is show up. He claimed he had the perfect vacation for us over winter break and it would give me the distraction I needed." His eyes shifted to Veronica and then away again nervously.

Veronica chose not to dig into what sounded like a painful topic for Logan and addressed Mac instead. "Mac, if you saw what was going on, why didn’t you leave me some kind of clue, so I could find you sooner?"

Mac shrugged. "The doors are rigged and only open from the inside at certain times. I was getting everything ready for when you did find me. I knew it wouldn’t take long. I was just getting re-connected to the internet before the chandelier went crashing to the ground. Maybe it took out some wires? I tried to log onto Prying Eyez to get some info on Leo and Duncan, but I don’t have your new password.”

“Yeah, Dad kicked me off his server after the whole lost election evidence tampering fiasco. Here’s my new login and password. Once you get back online, will you hack into Vinnie’s files and find out what Leo was working on recently and if that’s what brought him here? Him being here the same weekend we were all brought together is too big of a coincidence to even pretend they’re not connected.”

Veronica reached into her bag and pulled out the damaged page of Leo’s notes.

Holding it out for Mac to see, she said, “Once you get back online will you get me the rest of this case file? Even when we can get off this island, I’m gonna need to find out what happened to Leo. Why was he here? Why did he leave the sheriff's office and start working for Vinnie? Was he working both jobs at the same time? Was he undercover somehow? Is his death related to this case?"

“Why do you care so much about a guy you claim to only have dated briefly?” Logan teased.

“He was a pretty decent guy, and he was a great source of info.” Veronica defended.

“Yeah, decent guys always rob the cradle. Were you even legal?” Logan asked.

“That was years ago, and I ended that once you and I started kissing. He’s the only guy I ever cheated on. Maybe I feel a little bit of lingering guilt. The least I can do is solve his murder. I used him just like I’ve used everyone else. I’m sorry for the times I’ve gotten so wrapped up in solving a case that I didn’t stop to take your needs or feelings into consideration. You too, Mac. You know you mean more to me than that, right?”

Mac gave her friend a reassuring smile right before Logan chimed in. “Speaking of people who mean something to us, it looks like your BFF is pretty smooth with the ladies.” Logan gestured to Mac’s screen, and the trio gathered around to watch Wallace with his high-school crush.

“Teaching a girl how to do something without mansplaining really is a great seduction tool.” Veronica playfully bumped Logan aside with her hip, and they settled in to watch Wallace and Alexis in the kitchen. The telephone and an assortment of objects were spread out on the counter in front of them.

Wallace turned to her and said, “There was a pretty extensive collection of items in the junk drawer but surprisingly no wire snips or pliers. I’ll just have to make do with a knife and this roll of electrical tape.”

He picked up one end of the severed cord and held it so Alexis could see what he was doing. She paid close attention as Wallace showed her how to remove the white outer coating to reveal the four colored wires underneath. He then stripped each individual wire of its insulation, being careful to cut just the rubber coating without damaging the actual wire. They clearly seemed to be enjoying their time together, even though it was spent performing such a mundane task. Alexis was a quick study and picked up the other end of the cord while holding out her hand for the knife. Her movements weren’t as practiced as his, but her nimble fingers mimicked his movements until her wires were just as ready as his. Their eyes met, and his smile was full of approval. He then demonstrated how to align the two cords of matching color and twist their exposed ends together to ensure a strong connection, before wrapping each wire in electrical tape; this took the place of the previously removed rubber insulation, before sealing them together with a new piece of tape. They shared a smile of mutual accomplishment before plugging the cord back into the phone. The keypad lit up when the receiver was lifted. “No dial tone. The phones must be out. We’ll keep checking. They’ve gotta come back at some point. We should check the box in the basement, but that should probably wait until morning,” Wallace said, as he pulled Alexis into his arms.

The trio turned their attention from the screen to give the new couple some privacy. Veronica sighed and suggested they go their separate ways, but not before inquiring about Mac’s supply of snacks. Mac handed Veronica the key to the pantry, and promised to dig up a map of the grounds, as well as blueprints for the main house and any other structures on the island.

#veronica mars #veronica mars fanfic #vm fanfic #vmhq presents #murder we wrote #round robin

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tbzhours · 5 years

Text

don’t walk away

jacob x you, badboy au, college au, angst

[summary] you’re confused ever since you met jacob and maybe walking away was the right choice [warning] mild language, implied smut, physical aggression (not part of the smut) [word] 4.7k [a/n] feat. tbz but mostly hyunjae, kevin & younghoon; ok i know we all have been waiting for this so here you go uwu

part 2 ⇒

It’s only the third week of the semester and you were late to class for the first time. That meant you would be rushing out without coffee or checking whether you had the right materials in your bag. You shoved everything into your bag and ran out, heading to your afternoon class. Maybe an attempt to pull an all-nighter was a bad choice.

You reached the building, checking your watch for the time. You had about 3 minutes until your class starts. You nodded at yourself, knowing you’d have at least a minute to prepare for class when you reach it. After a relieved sigh blew from your lips while you were still running on the first floor, you bumped into Jacob.

Jelly beans were everywhere, scattered all over the floor as your eyes widened at their sounds tapping in front of you. You were also on the floor on your knees and palms. You quickly picked some of them up, rushing because of where you needed to be right now.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” You cried, still collecting more beans from the floor. This was the worse case scenario you had in your mind, other than slipping on some wet floor. You turned around, standing up as you took the person’s hand, slipping them onto his palm. “I’m running late to class right now so please I’ll get you some later. Deal?”

You saw Jacob’s smirk but it felt like he had been doing that all this time when you were picking them up. “Deal.”

“Okay, thanks!” You smiled with gratitude before you ran off to class. Now you would only have one minute to run to class and a rushed 10 seconds of taking your things out.

Class ended quickly. It always felt like that when you’re so focused. You walked out feeling relieved for understanding the materials and being able to help another classmate about what was going on. You were walking through the hallway where you had bumped onto a person and saw a few jelly beans still hidden on the edges of the floor. You recalled that boy with a smirk and leather jacket as you ran through the hall again and out of the building.

You quickly stopped when saw Jacob outside of the building where he was leaning onto a motorcycle, you assumed it was his.

“Hey!” He called out, a hand waving at you as it caught a few’s attention around.

“Oh.” You walked over to him, trying to smile since his appearance felt a little intimidating. You noticed his bag of jelly beans. It looked a new one as you looked up at him. “You’re from before and you got your jelly beans already.”

Jacob nodded before he threw a jelly bean at you. You caught it after it rolled over your shirt and into your palm. You had never felt so annoyed suddenly. You would have cursed if you knew him but you tried to tolerate, hoping this would end soon.

“So this issue is resolved then?” You asked, picking up the jelly bean that was stuck on your shirt and threw it into your mouth with a glare at him. It shouldn’t have been an issue in the first place. Why was he dragging this? Why was he making this so hard?

“You think it’s that easy?” Jacob chuckled as you stopped chewing. He turned around, sitting correctly on the motorcycle, setting the jelly bean bag into his pockets and turned his head to you. His head bopped back as he demanded, “Get on.”

“Why should I?”

“Because our deal isn’t over yet.” His smirk was stuck on his face as you followed his direction, rolling your eyes as you sat behind him. All you could think of was how did you get into this much trouble already.

He stopped his motorcycle in front of a bar after a 20 minute drive. You were looking up, slowly taking your steps as Jacob turned around.

“Come on.” He demanded again as you followed behind him, remembering the deal. It was stupid, yes, but still wondered who this guy was.

Upon entering the place, you were met by his friends, who were all sitting around a table in white comfy seats. Behind them was the bar, all bright with a white counter and black rounded seats. There were a few crystalized lights in the ceiling but you stayed focused at the large crowd in front of you. As if all of them were all waiting for the main person of the day, they all greeted Jacob by hollering his appearance and cheering like he just won something.

You thought it must happen often as you stayed back. You learned that this jelly bean guy’s name was Jacob but you noticed a few eyes looking at you. Jacob pulled you over when one of his friends asked about you.

“This is…” Jacob looked at you, his eyes obviously asking for you to give your name to him.

“(Y/N).” You finished his sentence but wondered why they needed to know. It wasn’t like you were going to keep knowing them. Actually, you wondered why you needed to be here in the first place. What was going on that Jacob had to bring you over, that he needed you here?

“I met them because they spilled my jelly beans. Of course, that would come with consequences.” His friends laughed when he continued. He had his hand in the air then he shrugged, “But we made a deal and this is what we decided with.”

His arm suddenly flew behind you, resting over your shoulders as he pulled you close to him. Your eyes widened at the floor as his friends shrieked, all shocked at his smooth move.

“We did not agree on this.” You looked at Jacob with that smile still on his damn face.

“We’re something now, sweetie.” He whispered when he moved his face closer to yours. You could feel his breath heating your cheeks. You were furious. You understood this now. They were all bad boys who decide everything on their own by twisting your words. You weren’t going to let it happen as you took a step back, making sure he wasn’t touching you anymore.

“I get it now. You’re just some jerk who thinks everything you do is right so I’m just going to leave because I fucking have better things to do than fuck around, like you all.” Your voice lingered in the quiet room before you took another step back and turned around, walking away.

Some of them got up, ready to follow you but Jacob held another hand up.

“Leave them alone.” Jacob demanded. He turned around, watching your mad steps as he smirked. This wasn’t going to be the last time he’d see you. He just knows it.

The next few days, you didn’t meet them ever again and you hoped it stayed like that until you graduate because you didn’t have time to mess around like them. That didn’t seem likely when you were on your way to your favorite library on campus on a regular Friday night. It was always quiet and barely anyone was ever there. It was like your own secret hideout because it was hidden within a small department. The only problem was the way on how to get there. There were a few doorways and hallways you had to follow, cutting through a huge space where a stage could be set over for some fashion shows or performances. Right before you could go through a doorway to pass it, you were met by a familiar face.

“Who are you?” You asked when he blocked your way. He was one of the guys you saw when Jacob dragged you out that night. You wondered how you could even recognized him but it must be his well-defined looks. Anyone would fall for him but for you, you wouldn’t. He’s just another bad boy who wants to mess around.

He was blocking the doorway and by the look on his lips, it seemed he was waiting for you. He walked slowly to you, making you take a few steps back until you were met by a wall. His smirk was still there when his breath almost touched your lips.

“Hyunjae, the baddest you’re ever know.” Well, now it seemed like he was the most handsome to easily steal people’s hearts away with an imitate touch like this. Personal space, you thought. He knew what he was doing as all you could do was hold in your breath, snapping a small sound from your lips with your eyes slightly rolling. He tilted his head, a tease filled in his quiet voice when he continued. “Say, you were the one Jacob brought over to our hangout. That walk out was quite… amusing.”

“Okay???” You pushed him away. It was a light touch but he moved back with that hurtful mouth of his as if he had gotten pushed really hard. You didn’t care and asked annoyingly, “What the hell do you want?”

“What?” He rolled his eyes, chuckling to the side and his tongue played in his mouth like he was about to fight you. That eye rolled back at you, his hands on his hips and a foot stepping in front of him.

“What? Am I supposed to be scared or something? Just tell me whatever shit you’re onto so I can go study.” It seemed like you were shouting but it’s only because you’re in a closed room with two doorways on opposite sides.

Your voice echoed as he huffed out a speechless sighed. “Wow, you’re really something. I guess this is what you get for messing with Jacob.”

“What does this have to do with him?” Your heart started to race. You could feel your head burning when Hyunjae sneaked another smirk, moving closer again.

“Because if you mess with him, then you’re messing with us too, the whole crowd.” His lips moved next to your ear, whispering sounds of threat. “Because that’s what bad boys do.”

He could sense the fear in your eyes when he looked at you. All you could think of was running away every time you see them. Who knows what they could do to you. You sighed, letting that go as you pushed him away again. You were definitely done.

“I don’t know why you guys are even here for.” You whispered, walking pass him and through the door as you could hear Hyunjae calling for you.

Studying, you couldn’t stay focused. You couldn’t understand why people like them would even be in this school if they were that “bad.” Money wasted, relationships faked, mind twisted. You knew you were the third one when you looked up and recognized another boy from that night sitting far from the library. Your eyes widened, wondering how that dark brown haired boy would even be here. No matter how curious you were, you would never talk to him, or Hyunjae or Jacob again. Not another chance that you would end up talking nonsense or even get your time wasted.

You got up after collecting your things and walked out of the library with the restful weekend arriving for you.

When you headed out of the building and into the night sky, you met Jacob. You halted in your steps, watching him admire the sky while he was sitting on his motorcycle. Somehow, that look felt different, you couldn’t explain it as it looked as if he was waiting for someone, perhaps the boy back in the library. You shouldn’t be thinking that when he suddenly turned to you, noticing a presence there. Your eyes jotted up and you turned away, trying to walk away before he called you.

It was too late when Jacob followed you, taking your arm so you could turn to look at him.

“You didn’t hear me?” He asked, but you didn’t glance at him. You didn’t want to. It would only hurt you if he tried to take you away again.

“Yeah.” It was a quiet reply, almost nonchalant.

He smiled, pulling your arm slightly as he offered, “How about another nice ride?”

“No thanks.”

“Don’t you like the breeze? It’ll be refreshing this time.” His voice sounded sweet, almost seductive but you didn’t like it. It was annoying you that you didn’t realize you would burst.

“I said no!” You finally looked at him, your face angered at the way he was holding you. You pulled it away, seeing how his eyes were still. No change whatsoever that you couldn’t see a true feeling coming from them. Your voice began to shake into a whisper, “You can never respect me so why should I?”

Your eyes became teary, filled with hurt that Jacob didn’t seem to notice. As you took another breath, your fingers curled into a fist.

“Don’t you ever appear in front of me again.”

You walked away, wondering if this was what all bad boys do. At least this would be the last as you wished to never find yourself talking to one for the rest of your life.

While you walked away, Jacob turned his head to the voice that was calling his name. He smiled a small one, walking back to his motorcycle with his hands in his pockets.

“Hey, Kevin. Ready to go?” He leaned onto his motorcycle, a playful eyebrow wiggling at him.

“Yeah? Didn’t know you would come get me.” Kevin smiled widely with his hand at the strap of his bag.

Jacob shrugged and got onto his motorcycle and joked, “Well, I was gonna ditch you.”

“Yeah? Now you can’t anymore.” Kevin laughed and jumped behind Jacob, fixing himself onto the seat. He slapped Jacob’s arm as he laughed again. “Come on. We gotta get to the boys before things go crazy.”

“More like my heart will go crazy.” Jacob laughed as he turned the engine on, Kevin not hearing his words as they drove away through the dark street.

A few days went by and you wouldn’t leave Jacob’s mind for some reason. He didn’t know why he found himself walking into a library, hoping to see you. Maybe he felt bad for hurting you he wanted to apologize. He honestly didn’t know how to do that as he saw you in a study room all alone. His lips beamed as he walked up to the room.

Of course, you’d notice him approaching in that leather jacket. You wondered if that was what all bad boys wear because it was stylist and shouldn’t be labelled. You didn’t realize your eyes were locked at him until he came into the room. You stood up quickly, eyes widened at his sudden appearance.

“What are you doing here?” You were confused on how he found you when you’re at a popular library site. Having to reserve a room, it would take at least one week to do so. You were only testing to see how it would be like since your shared dorm was usually loud because of the next door rooms. You saw Jacob’s smirk as you took a step back.

“I’m just here to see you.” He was being truthful but you didn’t want it.

“What. No.” You were running to the door but he locked it, his body covering it so you wouldn’t go out. You glared at him with your eyes, fearing of what he would do next. He was still smiling as he tilted his head.

“You weren’t listening.” Jacob frowned then he crossed his arms, leaning onto the door with a shrug. Every move felt like a joke. You were breathing heavily as he smiled. “I’ll just sit. I won’t do anything to you.”

You squinted your eyes at him and whispered loudly close to him. “How can I trust you?”

“Don’t scream. We don’t want the others wondering what we’re doing by the door.” His smirk irked you so much that you wanted to lay a hand on him, especially his annoying face. You huffed as he continued, “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

It took you five seconds before you walked back to your seat, staring at him as he sat down across the table from you. He caught your eyes and smiled with his hand gesturing you to keep studying. You sighed deeply but quietly and tried to get back to work. It didn’t work as you could feel his eyes staring into you. It felt uncomfortable as you wondered why he would even come to a library empty-handed. Oh right, he’s a bad boy.

That’s when you collected your things, putting them into your bag then you stood up and walked toward the door. Jacob stood up too, his shocked eyes looking your way. “Where are you going?”

“I said to never appear in front of me again.” You stated without looking at him, your voice sounding rough as you were holding your breath. You quickly unlocked the door and walked away as Jacob didn’t run after you. He could only wonder what he did that was so wrong for you to disappear from his sight.

Things went back to the way they were for a few weeks. You were glad that there wasn't anyone to annoy you or distract you from your work anymore, just as you liked it. You had been studying in the most crowded libraries too recently, just so you wouldn’t bump into them all alone like before.

It's been peaceful on most days but on some days, you’d be reminded of Jacob when you hear the sound of a motorcycle. Even when you were in class looking out the window, you'd hope to see him there.

Tonight, you were reviewing some notes while your friend, Younghoon, was trying to start the final project of his business class but it was meant to be with another partner. You were glad about choosing a major that didn't require much group work because relying on others could make things worse if they didn't do their parts. It was happening to Younghoon.

His professor had chosen them to be a pair but Jacob never showed up to the meetings Younghoon set up for.

You watched him sulk into his seat in your shared dorm. The fact that this project was going to affect his grades effectively, you really wanted to help, especially when he had helped you a lot before about writing good essays because it was always a struggle for you.

"Why don't you let the professor know so maybe you could join another group." You suggested with a shrug.

"I did. Let me show you." He got up and quickly searched his email inbox as you leaned over the table. The turned his laptop around and rephrased what he got back from the professor. "He asked me to get his phone number when he literally never show to class other than the first day."

He does well in his classes. Perhaps getting his phone number would be a better idea.

You read that part then your eyes found Jacob's name above it where Younghoon had mentioned it in the previous email. It couldn't be him, right? The Bae Jacob, the bad boy you had met a few times before? You never thought you would ever hear his name again since walking away that night.

"I don't know what to do, (Y/N). It's stressing me out already." Younghoon sulked again, sighing as his hand brushed his hair.

As much as you didn't want to see him again, you took the chance to help Younghoon, the courage you'd never have when it came to Jacob. You smiled surely at him, "I've got an idea."

You showed up at Jacob"s place, (you heard about these bad boys around campus to even know where they could reside too). It was a fact when the door opened with Jacob standing there. “Well, look who’s here.”

“Cut the greeting. I need to talk to you.” You crossed your arms.

“Of course, seeing you might have a reason to.” He stretched an arm, letting the door open wider as his other arm curled against the edge of the doorway.

You ignored his words, shaking your head before you explained, “Shocking to know you’re my friend’s partner for your business class. You need to get your shit together.”

“Oh, it looks like you’re worried.” He was teasing, you could tell. You didn't let that get you.

“Yes, for them and for not you.” You snapped but Jacob shrugged, trying to provoke you. You glared at him as you continued, “Just tell me you’ll do it then I can stay out of your face.”

“Oooo, spicy.” Jacob commented with that seductive voice, a wink and a bite at the side of his lower lip.

“I’m done here.” You turned away, trying to run away again when his voice stopped you in your short track.

“I’m not. You're the one who said to not show up in front of you, but not in front of me.” Jacob smirked, watching how your eyes roamed at the floor, seeing your side profile turning a little red. His voice became softer but slow enough that turned back to look at him. “Why don’t you stay for some… I don’t know, snacks?”

“No thanks. You’re still a complete jerk.”

“That’s who I am.” He held onto your wrist, lighter this time. He was smiling when he tried to pull you to him. “Come on in.”

You pulled your arm until you both stopped. He noticed your angry eyes but they were different from the night you walked away. There was perhaps a charm in them when you negotiated. “If you let go.”

When you walked in, Jacob was closing the door. He followed you from behind, a smile staying at his lips as you noticed his work on the table, papers scattered all over with his laptop being the center of them all. He walked over to the kitchen and came back to you, who was still looking around.

It was true that he actually does his work as it didn’t make sense to you. How could the way he was differ from the unlikely things you were seeing? You turned around, hearing his voice.

“Such a surprise, huh?” Jacob was right behind you with the kitchen just a few feet behind him.

You hadn’t noticed how skinny he was with his leather jacket off because he had a white shirt on or how small his apartment was. It seemed perfectly fitting for him because he had a small heart anyway. You ignored those thoughts as you glanced at his work again, your lips leaning on one side.

In his hand was a cup of juice. He handed it to you with a sneaky smile.

“A surprise yes... I wouldn’t be surprised if you did something to this drink too.” You smiled, making such a point that he seemed a little taken back, an expression you never knew he could have. He took a step back, an approving frown painted on his face before he took a sip from it, setting the cup down on the kitchen counter behind him afterwards.

“So you’re really in for more surprises.” He shrugged and crossed his arms with his signature smile, a smirk to the side. He leaned onto the counter, his smoky voice filling the air as if you found yourself hard to breathe. “And it looks like you came here for another reason too.”

He caught you red-handed as your eyes slightly widened. You tried to think of something quickly, an excuse that didn’t make you want to stay. Looking at his opened laptop, you looked back at him, your voice panicking. “Well, I just wanted to make sure you sent a reply back that you’ll meet my friend for the project. Could you just let them know before you fail their grade up?”

You pointed to his laptop but he never looked away from you. As you looked back at him, you suddenly noticed the softness in them, ones you never once seen before. Those eyes had always looked intimidating, alarmed that you should run away before you fall into them. It was already too late to get out when Jacob chuckled quietly.

“What makes you think I’ll do that?” He was a bad boy anyway but you somehow could feel a trust in him that he could do it, for you.

“Our deal?” You helped him recalled your reason of appearing in front of him suddenly. Instead, he brought up the reason how you both met.

“Our deal has been dragging this far because you keep running away.” He chuckled, eyes looking at your feet.

“Am not.”

“Then don’t do it again.” Jacob came closer as you stood still, your feet straighten under the table where your bottom hit the edge of it. Your hands gripped on the edges of the table at your side. You held your breath again when his face was only centimeters from yours. He continued, setting his hands onto the surface of the table to lock you in between his arms. "Then…"

His eyes were falling from your eyes and down to your lips as you tried to move back. It was impossible because the last thing you wanted from him was to have him stepping over you. As bold as your words, you whispered to him with a irking smirk. “Then what? You think I’m scared of what you’re gonna do to me?”

“Of course not…” He slightly turned his head, seeming to find the perfect way to match yours with his eyes gliding all over your lips. His eyes slowly headed up to yours, meeting your eyes for the last time when his breath brushed your lips. “When it’s all over your face.”

Then he kissed you, his lips engulfing yours when he pushed you against the table with his own body where you couldn’t escape. A hand was pressed at your back and the other at the back of your neck where his fingers tangled with your hair to keep your body up with his.

You found your arms setting over his shoulders when you pushed your dancing lips against his, intensifying the lustful greeting with both of his arms doing the same when they came together, holding you close to him.

Jacob suddenly lifted you up with his arms as your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping over your back pockets tightly so you wouldn't fall. Slowly, he carefully walked you over to his bed on the opposite side of the room, his legs didn't wobble off like a turbulence on a plane. Your lips never left each other as your heads twisted, leaving no time for air. A sweet sensation rolled at your stomach, your heart racing at his every kiss until you fell onto the bed where he was now over you. His lips escaped yours as you stared into his eyes, wondering what this touch could mean.

It was a breathless moment, losing in each other for a second when the back of his finger softly marked a trail down your cheek. There was softness in his eyes when they followed his touch as you began to realize, maybe you were falling for him. It was a dangerous game when the session deepened as he slowly moved closer to you, connecting your lips again. His hand began to crawl under your shirt as your hands slipped through his hair, gripping them as if they held your heart. His fingers tickled from your side to your back as he helped pull your shirt off. His lips touched your jaw to every inch of your neck and collarbone where his kisses made a sweet path to your stomach where all of your butterflies flew away. Slowly, he did the same with your pants, pulling them off before he did his too.

For a second in that room, giving your all to him, you felt as if you were meant to be with him. Your heart ached for more yet another ached for less. You mind was lost in moments when you couldn't tell which held more purpose to you, but you wanted this to last. You wanted him to love you like no other. You wanted him to only think of you until it ends. That was your only wish if Jacob didn't love you like he did now.

When you woke up in a few hours, locked in his arms, you could only leave a light kiss on his lips. You quietly slipped away from him, finding your clothes and his on the floor, and a few that weren't either yours. Of course, it was predictable that you weren't the only one.

It was only reasonable to walk away again and to hope that you'd never see him again, just like how you had for the past few weeks.

It would be hard but you must stay true to your instincts because Jacob was just a bad boy that you should've never met.

You quickly put your clothes on, taking one last glance at his soft sleeping face as you try to look away so the picture wouldn't stay in your mind forever. You walked to the door and let it close as you hoped that you had left with no traces behind.

#the boyz #tbzfics #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #jacob #bae jacob #tbz #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #tbz reactions #badboy au #bad boy au #college au #angst #implied smut #please don't ask for part 2; i will cRY #(ok lowkey i might make a part 2)#***LOWKEY

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taylor-on-fire · 5 years

Text

Cigarettes and Alcohol (one)

She was told to never get involved with three things; Cigarettes, Alcohol and Rock Stars.

Obviously, something fate never intended for her to live by.

Pairing: ? x Reader

Series Rating: Mature

Chapter Rating: Teen

Chapter Warnings: Swearing

~/-*•|•*-\~

The remainder of the summer had disappeared within the blink of an eye. If unpacking the rest of my belongings and furnishing the flat hadn't consumed the vast majority of my free time, my newly accumulated job had.

I had walked into Regency Cafe on my third day in London, resume in hand and extraordinarily low expectations. It was stationed five streets away from my flat, and a hub that I had scoped out soon after arriving. Because of this, I assumed that it was too good to be true, and being as popular as it was, would have copious amounts of workers and applicants alike. But, I had seemingly hit the jackpot that day. As soon as I walked into the cafe and spotted the only waitress behind the counter - a gray-haired, flustered woman in her late fifties - and mentioned the ‘Help Wanted’ sign stuck on the glass window.

‘You here for the job, Honey?’ I nodded, and she immediately thew an apron my way and hustled back to the till.

“Rose.” The woman nodded to me and slid over a tray. “That’s for table 7.”

“Y/N. Great to meet you, Rose.” I threw a tea towel over my shoulder, smiled, and picked up the tray to serve.

Ever since then, I had been working ten hour shifts at the Cafe. The crowds only ever thinned out at around the three ‘o’clock mark, when it was too late to be considered lunch, and too early to be considered tea. But, even then, there was never a moment to take a breather, let alone have a smoke. I wouldn't complain though - It kept my days occupied and helped me save extra money for when the next semester started. And Rose was lovely.

After we had locked up the cafe that first night - a pretty successful day as per usual - We had gotten talking about everything and anything over a cup of Coffee. Rose’s other two waitresses had called in sick, and with no available family to help, she was forced to fight the rush head on. Obviously that's where I came in.

Coffee after lock-up had become some sort of ritual after I was hired, and after the hour or so chatting with the grandmother I never had over pastries, I would walk to my flat and go straight to bed. I rarely went back out once I got home, and thus hadn't scoped the area as much as I usually would. I mean, I knew of a few pubs and student clubs nearer to the university campus, and a few clothing stores, but London was huge. It would take longer than a night to discover all there was to see.

Undoubtedly, now I’d have less time to dedicate to finding the hot-spots of the city. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was awake again - Pulling on jeans and a plaid jacket haphazardly. Apparently snoozing an alarm clock six or so times eventually added up to an hour. So, now I was 65 minutes behind schedule, and would be inevitably late to the first lecture of my first semester at Uni.

Way to make an impression, Y/N.

I checked the clock again, simultaneously buckling my sandals, and true to the time, I had 40 minutes to complete a half an hour bus ride and trek to the other side of the campus.

Luckily, Imperial was by far the closest Uni in the area. God forbid i had applied to another college instead - I would hands down, never make it to the campus on time. Being rejected fro the course for numerous lates wouldn't come as a shock to say the least.

I made my way outside and lit up a smoke, securing my bag on my shoulder and making my way towards the near-empty bus stop. It was fairly cold outside, despite it not being too early. It was the middle of September although, and despite the summer feeling very recent, it was slowly fading out into a chilly autumn.

However, I wasn't exposed to the British temperatures for too long, as in a few minutes, I was seated at the back of the bus, willing it to go quicker to ensure that I wouldn't be late to class.

I had constructed a whole plan on how my mornings would go from now on, and sorted a precise routine to avoid this one situation. I didn't imagine it being disregarded so early into the school year. Yet, I was notorious for being late back home, despite my best efforts. It was evidently not a good trait.

As I hurried across the campus, barely navigating the way from memory and already five minutes late, I hoped that this wasn't an omen for what my life would be like here.

The corridors were quiet, a few groups of people scattered around - obviously early and awaiting their first lecture - and all of their faces blending into one. I paid no heed due to the sheer rush I was attempting to downplay in the presence of other students.

The lecture hall seemed abnormally distant. But, as this thought flashed through my brain, a large notice on the wall displayed the word I was desperately searching for in black, block letters. I heaved a sigh of relief and searched for the class number.

EB1.1...EB1.3...EB1.7...EB1.15

Seeing that I had arrived at my designated room, I paused momentarily, glancing down to check my wrist watch. Fifteen minutes late. Fifteen used to be my lucky number, but after this, I'm not too sure. I turned to walk towards the door, not looking up, and immediately came into contact with something solid.

Before I could comprehend what was happening and steady myself, I was falling backwards, the notes in my hand and bag falling everywhere.

“Im sorry! Im so, sorry. I completely missed you there! I was just late and...” A boys flustered voice cut me from my internal monologue of how great the day was turning out to be. He immediately dropped to his knees to collect up the newly created mess, whilst simultaneously glancing back towards me. Presumably to see if I was fatally injured.

“Its fine. Im sorry. It was probably my fault.” I laughed, moving to my knees and picking up a pile of notes scattered to the left of me. “I have a terrible habit of being late to everything.”

“I should have seen you though. Are you okay? Not hurt are you?”

“I’m completely fine. despite my pride, obviously. Are you okay? I completely barrelled into you.”

We both continued to pick up the notes scattered around the corridor together, and finished rearranging ourselves in seconds flat. The man quickly stood up, holding out his free hand to me, which I grasped firmly. I let go, and he clutched his notes, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, a red blush overtaking his features.

“I’m completely okay. I must apologise again.” he spoke, still anxiously rubbing his neck. A small smile was playing on his red features.

I paused for a second and adjusted the strap on my bag.

“You said you were late to class. Whats your major?” I questioned, not much left to lose considering over a third of the first lecture was over. I looked towards the class door, knowing that I was obviously more than a quarter hour late now. This couldn't be good.

“Engineering. Electrical, more specifically. But Engineering is apparently just one big degree here.”

“Im majoring in that too. But, I prefer the Aerospace branch.”

The man smiled at that, before adjusting his shirt collar and swinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder..

“I have a friend that would love that. An Astrophysics Major.” He turned and pointed to the room EB1.15. “I guess we're headed to the same place, then?”

I nodded, smiling back.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” I raised my right hand out to the boy.

“John Deacon. Lovely to meet you.” He grasped my hand, and we shook, before splitting and turning to enter the classroom. John took the lead, entering the class before me, and holding the door open for me to enter too.

I guess chivalry isn't dead.

We both stood there momentarily, well aware of thirty or so sets of eyes turning in our direction. Under any other positive circumstances, I wouldn't be fazed, but knowing that I was in the wrong and destined to be given fails for the next academic year - and in front of so many strangers - I was uncharacteristically nervous.

From the looks of it, John also wasn't one for being thrusted under the limelight. He shot me a short, wide-eyed look, before hesitantly making his way to the lecturers desk at the front centre of the hall. I trailed behind him, probably appearing like a lost puppy, but in reality, unsure what the protocol was for such a situation.

Do i just sit down and ignore the fact that I missed half of the lecture? Or apologise profusely? At this point I’m ready to just leave campus, drop the course and move back home. Although, nothing worse than moving home immediately comes to mind.

However, John quickly spoke, explaining the issues he faced with his travel this morning etcetera, etcetera, and luckily, he included me within this tale. Apparently, we had gotten scheduled 8:15 AM bus, and due to a road-traffic accident, we were diverted for over three quarters of an hour. Credit to him for elaborating so. I was almost convinced myself that I hadn't overslept this morning.

As he concluded his tale, John took a step backwards, next to me, and awaited a response. The lecturer nodded, a blank expression on his face. He waited a second before responding.

“Ive already assigned the Initial Assignment. I want a 2,000 word essay on your reasons behind choosing Engineering as your major, the branch you major in, and the gateways this degree opens for you. Any other details are on the board.” The man held his stoic expression, and we nodded back at him, awaiting a sign to take our seats. “Michael Ford.”

I muttered my name in response, as did John, as we turned to take the only two free seats at the back of the lecture hall. We were stopped abruptly.

“Next time, don't let your romantic life come in the way of your studies.”

I froze, unsure of what to reply, other than a quick nod. I went to hurry off once again, but glanced at John who was beet red - even redder than before in the corridor - a wide-eyed expression on his face. It took all I had in me to not burst out laughing.

#queen fanfiction #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor fanfic #john deacon fanfic #john deacon x reader #roger taylor fanfiction #john deacon fanfiction #queen fanfic

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