#if you ever start wondering about people you no longer speak to. thats the devil talking!!

[phantasma-mirror]

self care isnt enough, i need medically induced amnesia

[silverlightqueen]

Tia and Tamera... and Nicole

fratboy and best friend!namjoon x reader, university!au, comedy, fluff, angst (and making out, if that counts as something idk lol) ft. twice nayeon, got7 jackson & skz hyunjin

For btswriterscollective’s 1 year anniversary contest!

Summary: y/n decides to make a big fashion change and, all of a sudden, is the object of attraction of every male within a hundred metre radius of her. Namjoon, her best friend, isn’t too impressed about it.

Rating: 15 (mature themes, explicit discussion of sex, strong language)

Word Count: 9.9k+

Warnings: lots of sexism/misogyny, the typical she-has-a-makeover-and-suddenly-every-boy-wants-to-date-her-trope, lots of gross frat boys, strong language, explicit discussion of sex, alcohol and drug consumption, making out, Namjoon is trash and doesn’t know how to text. I think that’s it but lmk if you noticed that I missed something!

a/n: hey guys ! it’s silverlightqueen back with another university au lmao i’m sorry :( thank you to the loml @silverlightprincess​ for proofreading, you’re the best and I love youuu !! I hope you guys enjoy this bc it was really fun to write !!

silverlightqueen masterlist

I got the divider off google (it has no relevance to the story but it kinda matches the colour scheme so we move lmao) so credit to whoever made it lol

joon: u up

y/n: don’t fuckboy text me

joon: so thats a yes

y/n: what do you want ?

joon: u free tmrw

y/n: it’s Monday tomorrow

joon: what about it

y/n: I got a lecture in the morning, but I’m free after 11

joon: ill pick u up nd take u 4 food

y/n: look at you, any excuse to drop in that you can drive now

joon: do u want food yes or no

y/n: what food ?

joon: mexican indian chinese whateva u want

y/n: yeah, sounds good

joon: rnt u gonna tell me what food u want

y/n: I’ll sleep on it

y/n: anyway go to bed, idiot, why are you even awake at 2.30 on a Sunday night ?

joon: y r u

y/n: questioning my existence

y/n: duh

y/n: now tell me why you are

joon: i just left jens lol

y/n: nvm forget I asked

joon: sure u dont want the deets

y/n: positive

y/n: goodnight you demon

joon: gn angel

‘Took you long enough,’ Namjoon exclaims as I open the front door of his car and climb into the passenger seat. ‘Wait, whoa. Hold on. What is this?’ Namjoon demands as I shut the door behind me, and I quickly turn to look at him. ‘What?’ I ask worriedly, and he shakes his hand in my general direction. ‘This. Your outfit. I’m confused,’ he says, and I relax, rolling my eyes, trying to ignore the way my cheeks are heating up and hoping he doesn’t notice it. ‘Why are you confused, Namjoon?’ I ask as though I’m speaking to a child, and he laughs, starting up the car.

‘I’m confused because I’ve never seen you wear anything other than clothes that are way too big for you,’ he says, and I make an indignant noise as he speeds down the road like the devil driver he is. ‘Don’t even deny it, you know it’s true. I started to wonder if you had something you were trying to hide. A growth on your stomach. A hunchback. A pregnancy. Or worse; no boobs!’ he says, gasping dramatically, and I hit his shoulder, holding back a laugh. ‘I wasn’t hiding anything,’ I say, and he glances over at me, eyeing my chest, before his tongue darts out to wet his lip. ‘You were. I always assumed you had small tits – a B cup, max – but obviously not. I can’t believe you hid them so well. They’ve gotta be at least a D,’ he says, and I roll my eyes, not bothering to disclose that I’m actually an E. He’d probably pop a boner. ‘And your legs,’ he says, and I look down at them self-consciously. ‘What about them?’ I ask, and he blinks before looking down at my freshly shaved limbs. ‘I’ve never seen them before. They’re nice. Smooth. And curved, with some fat on them. I’m glad you don’t have stick legs,’ he jokes, and I sigh. ‘Stop body-shaming,’ I say, and he lets out a little chuckle. ‘Am I not allowed to have preferences?’ he smirks, eyes on the road as he overtakes cars left, right and centre. ‘No,’ I reply, and he bursts out laughing.

‘So what’s with the new look? What prompted this reinvention? Because, I’m either still tripping from last night, or you’re actually wearing makeup too,’ he says, and I shift embarrassedly in the seat. ‘I just felt like it was time for a change. I wanted to experiment, try something new,’ I say, and he nods, face blank. ‘Okay. Now, do you wanna tell me the real reason?’ he asks, and I laugh, annoyed that he knows me so well. ‘I was getting changed in my room-’ ‘Okay, hang on, let me picture it,’ Namjoon says, and I hit him again, ignoring his chuckles. ‘So, I was getting changed, and Nayeon barged in and had a meltdown over… my body. She said that she was really annoyed with me for hiding my body so much, because if she had my body, she’d walk around naked. Or whatever. Something like that. I’d never really… looked at my body like that, but once she said it, I realised that maybe I could start branching out, fashion-wise. So she took me shopping, and this is the trial of new outfit number one,’ I say, and he listens intently, nodding in all the right places.

‘So how have people reacted today?’ he asks, and I get a little embarrassed thinking about it. ‘Some of the girls in my class started screaming when they saw me, and Taehyung asked if I was new here, and if he could get my number. Oh, and our lecturer asked me to stay behind to ask if I was okay, because I didn’t seem to be myself today,’ I explain, and Namjoon bursts out laughing. ‘You’re kidding.’ ‘Not at all.’ ‘Wow. All I’ll say is to ignore Taehyung. I think all that weed has caused permanent damage to his brain,’ he says, and I can’t help but agree, wondering how that boy can even breathe right anymore. ‘Well, anyway. Why did you used to cover up so much?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘Are you just gonna keep quizzing me?’ I ask, and he nods instantly, grinning. ‘I’m intrigued, y/n. You have to understand that this is a lot for me to process. My best friend has transformed into someone else since I last saw her. My mind’s going into meltdown mode,’ he says dramatically, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘Drama queen.’ ‘I learn from the best. You. Now, anyway. Can you answer my question?’

‘I don’t know.’ ‘You don’t know if you can answer my question?’ ‘No, moron, I don’t know why I used to cover up so much,’ I say exasperatedly, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘I find that slightly hard to believe.’ ‘Fine. I wasn’t the most confident in my body. It’s hard, seeing all these super slim tiktok girls, petite and slight, and seeing them dress the way I wanted to. It’s like… I felt stupid wearing the same clothes they wear because they look so different to me. The way the media glorifies slim women… it’s hard for not-so-slim women like me. So I just hid my body in loose clothes for so long that it was what I was comfortable in,’ I explain, Namjoon still listening attentively. That’s one of the best things about him; he may be an idiot, but he always listens to what I have to say.

‘That’s… kinda sad, actually. Because – don’t get me wrong, your old look did suit you – but this new look? It’s great. You look really good, y/n, regardless of the fact that you’re not a super slim tiktok girl,’ he says matter-of-factly, and I smile shyly. ‘Thanks. So it’s a yes to the black and white check mini skirt and blazer set?’ I ask, and he nods instantly with a grin. ‘I can’t wait to see the rest of your outfits,’ he says, turning into the car park at the shopping centre. ‘There’s… quite a few to come. I’m a bit nervous about a couple of them,’ I say as he pulls into a parking space, and he gives me a greasy smirk. ‘I’m even more excited now,’ he says, and I swat at him, the boy chuckling as he ducks away from my hand. ‘I’ve just driven you to buy you food, and this is what I get in return?’ ‘Yes. You’re lucky I’m not beating the shit out of you.’ He sighs, checking his blond hair in the mirror before climbing out of the car, and I reach into the back and grab my bag before getting out too.

‘Oh, my God,’ he says, sounding shocked, and I instantly panic. ‘What?’ ‘What are those?’ he shouts, throwing his hands down to point at my feet, and everyone within a hundred metre radius turns to look at us. ‘Joon!’ I exclaim, embarrassed at him grabbing so much attention. ‘Sorry. But seriously? What are those?’ he asks, and I look down at my shoes. ‘They’re sock boots. What’s wrong with them?’ I ask, and he stares at them before taking a step back and looking me up and down. ‘Nothing. They look great. I’m just shocked to see you in shoes other than trainers. And is that a handbag I see instead of the usual backpacks?’ he teases, and I roll my eyes. We walk towards the entrance, and I struggle to keep up with him (I always struggle when walking next to him, but even more so in these boots). ‘Wait,’ I say, hooking my arm through his so I can slow him down, and he laughs. ‘Aww, struggling in your boots?’ he teases, and I huff. ‘Shut up,’ I pout, and he laughs again, looking at me with an affectionate gaze and an amused smile.

But the affection and amusement soon disappears. ‘y/n. You’re literally killing me here. Hurry up,’ he says impatiently. ‘Sorry, Joon. It’s my first time wearing heels though, cut me some slack. At least I haven’t fallen over,’ I say brightly, trying to put a positive spin on it, and he scowls. He’s been trying his best to walk slow but he’s now struggling not to walk at his normal pace – his legs are so much longer than mine. ‘Yet,’ he says venomously, and I gasp. ‘Was that a threat?’ I demand, feigning indignance, and he side-eyes me. ‘Maybe it was. I could stick my foot out right now and no one would ever know,’ he says in a wistful tone, and I shoot him a dirty look. ‘I’ll step on your foot if you try it. Then who’ll be laughing when my boots ruin your Balenciagas?’ ‘Me, because you’ll be buying me new ones.’ ‘With what money? I ain’t got money like that.’ ‘Oh, but you got money for clothes?’ ‘I always got money for clothes.’ ‘Get a sugar daddy.’ ‘You are my sugar daddy.’ ‘Huh?’ ‘Who takes me out for food at least twice a week? And buys me things out of the blue?’ ‘Damn. I really am your sugar daddy. This isn’t a good deal for me at all. You’re getting the daddy, but I’m not getting any sugar.’ ‘I’m not sure that that means exactly what you intended it to mean.’ ‘You know what I meant. I want my sugar, bitch.’ ‘Jen can give you sugar instead.’ ‘Okay, but Jen isn’t getting the daddy. You are.’ ‘She was getting the daddy last night.’ ‘Did you really just refer to my dick as ‘the daddy’?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Never do that again.’

‘Where are we eating?’ I ask, and he grins. ‘Wang and Nayeon are waiting for us at Red Velvet,’ he says, and I gasp. ‘Yes! It’s been so long since we’ve been to Red Velvet!’ I exclaim, and he laughs amusedly. ‘I know. I was worried you might start getting withdrawal symptoms.’ ‘I thought we’d never go back. Does Seulgi still work there?’ I ask, raising an eyebrow, and he pulls a face. ‘Yep,’ he says, and I feel my eyes widen. ‘And we’re still gonna go?’ ‘Yes, because I’m a great person and make sacrifices for you even though all you do is abuse me and threaten to ruin my Balenciagas,’ he says, and I pout. ‘Sorry, Joonie,’ I say, putting on a baby voice as I give him puppy dog eyes, and he refuses to look at me, fighting a smile off his face. ‘Apology accepted. Now stop being the real-life version of that emoji.’ ‘Which one?’ ‘Don’t play dumb, you know exactly which one I mean.’

We round the corner to where Red Velvet is, tucked away from the rest of the shopping centre, and Nayeon and Jackson are sat in the window booth, watching a video on Nayeon’s phone together. When Namjoon and I enter, the little bell above the door rings, and both of them look up at us. Nayeon grins so wide I’m worried her face is going to split, and Jackson does a double take, eyes wider than an anime girl’s. ‘y/n?’ he exclaims, loud enough to catch the attention of everyone in the restaurant, and I shoot him a look, shushing him. ‘Oh, my God. What’s happened to you? Who’s this sexy thing?’ Jackson says as I slide into the booth opposite him and Nayeon, shuddering at the thought of my bare legs on the worn (and most likely, germ-carrying) leather of the seat as Namjoon slides in beside me. ‘Don’t refer to me as a ‘thing’, I’m not an object,’ I mutter, but my comment is ignored when Namjoon says, ‘literally my exact reaction.’ ‘No, it wasn’t. You did not call me sexy,’ I frown, and he blinks at me, looking surprised. ‘Did I not?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘Well, I thought you would’ve gathered that I thought that anyway. Based on the way I had to pick my tongue up from the floor when I saw you,’ he says, Jackson and Nayeon laughing as I roll my eyes.

‘You look good. Really good, y/n. I didn’t know you had boobs,’ Jackson says, inspecting me, and I try not to squirm under his scrutinising gaze. ‘Neither did I! Until I walked in on her naked!’ Nayeon says, Jackson’s eyes nearly falling out of his head. ‘I was in my underwear,’ I say defensively, and Nayeon rolls her eyes. ‘Details. But, yeah, after I saw her hot bod, I told her to stop wearing Billie Eilish’s hand-me-downs.’ ‘And gave her your hand-me-downs instead?’ ‘Excuse me, these are brand new,’ I point out, and Nayeon nods. ‘Yeah. You should know me better. I could never pull off an outfit like that.’ ‘I could pull it off you,’ Jackson jokes, Namjoon fist-bumping him as they laugh, Nayeon and I exchanging an exasperated glance. ‘I could pull it off you too, y/n,’ Jackson says with a little quirk of his eyebrow, and I roll my eyes, willing myself not to blush. ‘Jackson! y/n’s our baby, and we’ve gotta protect her from fuckboys, so stop being one,’ Nayeon says with a slap to his shoulder. ‘There won’t be any… fuckboys,’ I say, and all three of them raise their eyebrows at me. ‘You’re delusional if you think that. Just wait ‘til a frat boy sees you,’ Jackson says, and I frown. ‘Okay. That sounds fake, but, okay,’ I say, just as Seulgi appears to take our order.

‘Hi, and welcome to Red Velvet. What can I get for you?’ she says in the most bored tone I’ve ever heard. She must really hate her job. Even more with this moron sat beside me in here. ‘Can I get the Ice Cream Cake freakshake please?’ Nayeon asks, Seulgi gracing her with a rare smile as she writes down her order. ‘Can I get the Power Up brownie with Red Flavour ice cream please? And just water?’ Jackson asks, also getting a smile. ‘Can I get the Cookie Jar freakshake? And she’ll have Mojito cheesecake with Blue Lemonade. Thanks,’ Namjoon says, ordering for me too, but, unsurprisingly, he doesn’t get a smile. ‘Will you all be paying together?’ ‘I’m paying for mine and his,’ Nayeon says, pointing at herself and Jackson (she lost a bet with him a couple weeks ago, and owes him a meal). ‘And I’m paying for mine and hers,’ Namjoon says, Seulgi fixing him with a dirty look. ‘So this is who you’ve moved on to now?’ she demands, Nayeon and Jackson wincing. ‘Sis, you can have him,’ I say, unable to resist, and Namjoon shoots me evils as Seulgi looks bewildered. ‘Pardon?’ ‘I’m good, luv. Enjoy,’ I say, but she’s still staring at me, her mouth suddenly falling open. ‘y/n?’ she asks, and I nod, slightly confused. ‘OMG, I didn’t even recognise you. Girl, you look so good! I didn’t know you had boobs!’ she exclaims, and I have to stop myself from facepalming. ‘Thanks, Seulgi,’ I force out between gritted teeth, embarrassed as hell, but she doesn’t seem to notice, grinning away obliviously. ‘No problem. I’ll just get your orders put through and then I’ll come back for payments,’ she says, visibly perkier (nothing like seeing one of your friends unrecognisable after a makeover to cure a bad mood – apparently), before disappearing.

‘That was awkward,’ Namjoon says nonchalantly, all three of us fixing him with hard stares. ‘It wouldn’t have been so awkward if you weren’t such a dick,’ I say blithely, and he gasps dramatically. ‘Excuse me?’ ‘Don’t play innocent, dumbass. If you hadn’t had slept with Joy and Seulgi on the same day, we wouldn’t be in this situation. We’d actually have avoided a lot of situations if you weren’t such a dog,’ Nayeon says, brutally honest as ever. ‘Hey, I never made any kind of commitment to either of them!’ Namjoon defends himself, both Nayeon and I shaking our heads at him. ‘It’s common courtesy, douchebag,’ I reply, Namjoon sticking his tongue out at me. ‘I’d like to know what situations you’re referring to. I don’t get us into awkward situations,’ he says, all three of us giving him a ‘really?’ look.

‘Remember when we went out to that bar – what was it called again? Oh, yeah, Playing With Fire – and Jisoo threw that drink at you for blocking her on socials after you slept together?’ Jackson reminds us, Namjoon nodding slightly embarrassedly. ‘Oh, and when we went to Breakthrough, that club, and Sana got us kicked out by pretending we smuggled drugs in because you ghosted her after telling her you felt ‘something real’ for her?’ Nayeon brings up, all of us looking pointedly at Namjoon who nods sheepishly. ‘And that fight you got into with Daniel after you went ‘round telling people that Jihyo’s your sloppy seconds?’ I say, and he gasps indignantly. ‘I didn’t say that once!’ ‘Still. If you hadn’t had slept with her, that fake rumour wouldn’t have gone around,’ I say, and he pouts. ‘We could name several girls you’ve gotten us into awkward situations with. Chaeyoung, Hyejin, Wendy, Dahyun-’ ‘Okay, okay, damn. I get the picture,’ he says, the three of us exchanging looks.

‘Anyway, I need to go toilet. Come with me, y/n?’ Nayeon asks, and I nod. Namjoon sighs, reluctantly getting out of the booth to let me out. ‘Whoa, hold on,’ Jackson says, and I turn around to face him. ‘y/n… what you doing out here with all this ass?’ he asks, voice far too loud for my liking, and the few people in the restaurant turn to look at us disapprovingly. ‘Double cheeked up on a Thursday afternoon!’ Namjoon exclaims, before they chorus, ‘Hella ass!’ They burst into laughter, and my face is on fire, everybody in the restaurant staring at us (or, more specifically, my ass). ‘y/n, you dumb thicc, sis,’ Jackson says, and I take a deep breath before saying, ‘I’m going to go to the toilet now.’ ‘Take some ass pics while you’re there!’

joon: hey sexc

y/n: hey, what’s up ?

joon: wang wants 2 know if u nd nayeon r up 4 wing wednesday @ KPN

y/n: what time ?

joon: weneva imma get there 6.30

y/n: are there gonna be any other girls there?

joon: idk prolly the boys gfs

joon: y u asking so many qs u dnt have 2 come if u dnt wanna

y/n: I just don’t wanna be one of the only girls at a frat house with loads of stupid frat boys

joon: ill protect u bby

joon: me nd wang got u

y/n: much appreciated

y/n: we’ll come, but I’ll text you when we get there and you need to meet us at the door

y/n: I’ll feel awkward just walking in

joon: ok but call dnt text

y/n: you never answer your phone

joon: ill take it off silent 4 u angel ;)

y/n: thank youuu

joon: ofc see u tmrw

y/n: see youuu, goodnight joonie

joon: gn stupid

‘Wrong number,’ he says when he answers the phone, and I roll my eyes. ‘We’re at the door, come get us,’ I say, and he lets out a loud sigh. ‘I’m gonna lose my seat,’ he complains, and I huff. ‘Joon, please come get us. Do you know what it’s like being a girl around dozens of frat boys? You need to look after us,’ I plead, and he sighs again. ‘Give me a minute,’ he replies before the line clicks off. ‘Is he coming?’ Nayeon asks, and I nod. ‘Good, because it’s freezing,’ she says, clutching at her bare arms. ‘That’s what you get for wearing a t-shirt,’ I say, and she rolls her eyes. ‘It’s not like you’re dressed warmly either,’ she says pointedly, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m not complaining about the cold.’ ‘Yeah, which I’m surprised about, because that top is thin as hell.’ ‘It’s not that thin.’ ‘Sis, I borrowed that top yesterday – it’s thin.’

I’m dressed in a black long-sleeve top tucked into a pair of greyish-whiteish joggers, with white trainers on my feet, a simple gold necklace around my neck with an initial pendant, a couple gold bracelets on my wrist and gold rings on my fingers. Nayeon’s in a pair of blue mom jeans and a black t-shirt, a cross body bag with both of our things inside it on her shoulder. Neither of us have bothered with full faces or pretty hairstyles – we’ve both got on basic makeup with our hair out and natural. It isn’t really that cold; it’s 8, and the air is starting to get crisp and cool, but the sun’s only just beginning to set, so there’s still a little warmth. Nayeon’s just a drama queen.

The door opens after a few seconds, Namjoon glowering at us, before he looks me up and down, his frown being replaced with a smirk. ‘Have I told you I love this new y/n? Like… this is a look,’ he says, and I grin at him, feeling a little more confident now. ‘I’m stood right here,’ Nayeon says with a half-hearted scowl, and Namjoon grins, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a side hug. ‘Nayeon, me complimenting you is like complimenting Mona Lisa. She already knew she was sexy as hell so what’s the point?’ he says easily, Nayeon preening as I roll my eyes. ‘You think Mona Lisa’s sexy?’ ‘Not as sexy as you.’ ‘Can we go inside? I’m cold,’ Nayeon says, not waiting for either of us to reply before she slips past Namjoon into the house. ‘Come on,’ Namjoon says, grabbing my hand and pulling me along behind him.

The second we step into the living room, the smell of strong cologne, alcohol and weed hits me and all eyes flit from Nayeon – who’s hugging Jinyoung and squealing – to me and Joon. Well, more me than Joon. ‘Woah. Who’s this? Surely not y/n,’ I hear Hoseok say, and I shoot him a dirty look, the boy grinning in return. ‘Shut it, stupid,’ I say, Namjoon continuing to walk towards the kitchen, dragging me along behind him. When we step into the kitchen, the smell of spicy wings hits me, and my eyes are instantly drawn to the takeout bags covering the countertop. But when I realise none of the bags are unopened, meaning frat boys have already been at them, it puts me off a little – I’d rather not eat food that might have been tampered with.

‘Look. My seat’s taken,’ Namjoon says pointedly, motioning to where Kai sits on a stool, beside Taemin and Seokwoo, the three of them laughing at whatever story Jaehyun’s telling them. ‘You’ll survive. What’s the point of having such long legs if you don’t stand on them?’ ‘There’s no logic in that. Go get my seat back,’ he says, and I side-eye him, wondering if he’s being serious or not. ‘How am I supposed to get your seat back?’ ‘Go flirt with him.’ ‘No! Him and Krystal have got a thing,’ I say, and Namjoon rolls his eyes. ‘That won’t stop him from flirting back,’ he says, and I glare at him. ‘I cannot stress this enough. Men are trash,’ I say before turning away from him, heading towards where there’s a couple dozen drink bottles and cups covering the countertop. I carefully pour myself a lemonade, making sure the cup’s clean and the bottle hasn’t been tampered with (I know Wing Wednesday is ‘for the boys’ so it’s unlikely it’s spiked, but it never hurts to take precautions).

‘y/n!’ I hear Mina exclaim, and I turn to see her stood there, smiling widely. ‘Mina!’ I squeal, pulling the girl into a hug. Mina’s one of Nayeon’s friends (they’re on the same course) but because Nayeon and I are inseparable, Nayeon’s friends are my friends too. Mina’s here because she’s dating Bambam, a KPN frat boy, and it makes me realise my privilege; Nayeon and I are only here because of our connections. If we weren’t best friends with Jackson and Namjoon, we’d have missed out on so many amazing memories. ‘How have you been? I haven’t seen you for ages!’ she says as we break apart, and I grin widely. ‘I’ve been good. Really good.’ ‘You look it. This style is, like, amazing! Is this new style permanent?’ she asks, and I smile shyly. ‘I think so. I actually… really like my new style,’ I say, and before Mina can speak, I hear Baekhyun say, ‘I like it too.’ Mina and I both turn to look at him, his stupid grin making me roll my eyes amusedly. ‘Hey, Baek,’ I say, the boy opening his arms for a hug, which I give (reluctantly). Baekhyun is Nayeon’s ex. They’re still friends – they’re actually on really good terms – but I’m still… cautious around him. He’s funny, and we get along, but I can never see him the same after hearing all the drama from Nayeon.

I clear myself a space on the countertop and boost myself up, sitting on the hard wood surface and Mina joins me, Baekhyun standing in front of us. ‘Have you had any wings?’ Baekhyun asks, and Mina and I exchange a glance, obviously thinking the same thing. ‘No, I’m… not really feeling wings,’ I say, Mina nodding in agreement, letting out little giggles behind her hand. ‘Aren’t you hungry?’ he asks, and, to be honest, I’m starving. But I am not about to eat those… frat boy wings, and neither is Mina. ‘Yeah, I could eat.’ ‘Let’s order some pizza then,’ he grins, and I gasp. ‘Pizza? On Wings Wednesday? Isn’t that against frat laws?’ I tease, and he rolls his eyes, pulling out his phone. ‘What toppings do you have?’ ‘Just get margherita.’ ‘Shall I get two larges?’ ‘Yeah, Nayeon will want some too,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes again, an amused smile on his face. ‘I’m not ordering pizza for Nayeon – I’m ordering it for us.’ ‘I’ll transfer you the money.’ ‘y/n… it’s pizza. You don’t need to transfer me money for it.’ ‘Why not? I don’t mind paying.’ ‘Yeah, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I made you pay’ ‘You’re not a gentleman,’ I reply amusedly, and he clutches his heart, pretending to be hurt. ‘I am.’ ‘You’re not. And you’ve made me pay for food before. Remember the Chinese we ordered after the LSG party, and you made me answer the door, so I had to pay?’ I say, and he winces. ‘Well… the pizza makes up for it,’ he says, and I just raise an eyebrow, amused.

It’s so… wrong that he’s only willing to pay for food for me now that he finds me attractive, but I won’t complain aloud; it’s free food after all. And then it gets me thinking. Maybe I should… take advantage of the effect my new look’s having. I mean, frat boys aren’t the… smartest, are they? Namjoon may be an exception when it comes to his education, but his common sense? He has next to none, demonstrated by the stupid situations his whore behaviour has gotten us into. And the rest of them are even stupider than him. I’ve always been a master of manipulation, and it’ll be even easier now they think I’m hot.

It isn’t long until the pizzas arrive and the second Baekhyun leaves to collect them at the door, Mina turns to me with a grin. ‘Girl, if you don’t take advantage of all these boys thirsting over you, I swear, I’ll be so disappointed,’ she says, making me burst into laughter. ‘I was literally just thinking about doing it!’ I exclaim, both of us laughing. ‘No, but for real. You should, like, make the most of it while it lasts. Not to sound nasty, but you know it won’t be long until there’s another girl they’re all into. You should exploit this opportunity whilst you’re still the… object of the affections,’ she says, making me laugh. ‘Exploit this opportunity?’ I repeat, and she nods with a grin. ‘Their generosity will only go to a certain extent,’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘Wanna test that?’ she asks, a challenging glint in her eye, and I grin, nodding. ‘Go look in the fridge, and when you’re asked what you’re looking for, say… Vanilla Coke.’ ‘Vanilla Coke?’ ‘Mmhmm.’ ‘Okay.’

I head over to the drinks fridge (they keep their food in the mini fridge and their drinks in the big fridge – their priorities are so fucked up) and open the door. I scan the bottles, seeing mainly lemonade and coke with a couple alcoholic bottles, but no Vanilla Coke. ‘y/n!’ I hear from behind me, and I turn to see Donghyuck stood there, a big grin on his face. ‘Hyuck! Hey!’ I exclaim, throwing my arms around him. Donghyuck and I did extra credit classes together last year, and I’ve barely seen him since. ‘You look so different!’ he says, holding me away to inspect me, hands light on my shoulders, and I grin, bending one leg at the knee and striking a pose, making him laugh. ‘It’s weird to see you in clothes that fit,’ he teases, and I roll my eyes. ‘Don’t even. Everyone’s making such a big deal of it.’ ‘Yeah, because you look hot.’ ‘Whatever.’

I turn back to the fridge, and he comes to stand beside me. ‘Whatcha looking for?’ ‘Vanilla Coke. I’m, like craving it,’ I lie, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re lucky we’ve got lemonade and coke. KPN stick to basics,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Well, maybe you shouldn’t. Vanilla Coke is amazing.’ ‘Well, the corner shop down the road might have some. Shall we go get some?’ he suggests, and I’m shocked. Mina was right. He’s willing the leave Wings Wednesday with his frat brothers to go get Vanilla Coke from the shop with me. ‘You sure?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘It’s only a two-minute walk.’ ‘Okay. Let’s g-’ ‘y/n!’ I hear Mina call before materialising next to me. ‘Hey, Mina,’ I say, Donghyuck greeting the girl too. ‘Hey, Hyuck. I’m need to steal y/n. Emergency,’ she says, and my eyes widen. I’ve literally left her alone for a minute. What emergency does she have? ‘You okay?’ ‘Yeah, it’s just… I started. Do you have a pad?’ she whispers, loud enough for Donghyuck to hear, the boy wrinkling his nose in disgust, making me roll my eyes. Why boys are so grossed out about periods, I don’t know. It took two entire years of friendship with Namjoon to get him to buy me some pads. ‘Yeah, I do.’ ‘Will you come to the toilet with me?’ she asks, and I nod, apologising to Donghyuck before Mina drags me out of the kitchen, through the living room and upstairs.

‘Oh, shit! My pads are in Nayeon’s bag,’ I say when we reach the top of the stairs, and Mina lets out an annoyed noise. ‘I don’t actually need a pad, stupid! I was just getting you away from him,’ she whispers before pulling me into the bathroom. ‘What? Why?’ ‘Because now he’ll go get your Vanilla Coke from the shop and you won’t have to go with him,’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Are you kidding? He’s not gonna go.’ ‘Yes, he will,’ she says, before letting out an exasperated sigh. ‘Remember when I stayed home for a few months, because I wasn’t well?’ she asks, and I nod – Nayeon was heartbroken that she didn’t have Mina to gossip with in her lectures. ‘When I came back, all the boys were fussing over me. Trust me; he will go and get that coke.’

We spend a couple minutes in the bathroom, reapplying our lipgloss and fixing our hair, before we head back downstairs, quickly grabbing two of the empty stools in the kitchen, Bambam sat next to Mina and Namjoon sat next to me, chatting with Minho about football strategy for their next match. ‘y/n!’ I hear Donghyuck’s voice after a few minutes, making me stop mid-conversation with Yugyeom about dessert on Monday at Red Velvet (it was so good, I can’t stop thinking about it – I might have to drag Namjoon back there this weekend). I turn to see him stood at the door, holding up a bottle of Vanilla Coke, and I have to stifle a laugh, pushing down guilt. ‘Oh, my God, thank you, Hyuck! You’re the best!’ I exclaim, giving the boy a hug before he disappears to find me a clean cup. ‘I was right,’ Mina says with a grin. ‘I feel bad.’ ‘Don’t. You didn’t make him get it.’ ‘Yeah, but I’m not even gonna drink it. I don’t like Vanilla Coke.’ ‘Well, it’s a good thing I do.’

joon: u got a lecture tmrw

y/n: it’s Friday tomorrow right ?

joon: um ye how do u not know

joon: r u still drunk from last night

y/n: I wasn’t drunk! I didn’t even touch any alcohol !

joon; then y were u letting johnny touch u up

y/n: I wasn’t! there was fluff on my boob and he took it off for me !

joon: ur so naive

joon: n e ways, do u have a lecture tmrw

y/n: yeah, 1-3

joon: wanna go 4 coffee after ill pick u up

y/n: sounds good

y/n: I’ll pay

joon: no

y/n: you paid for dessert !

joon: idc, ill pay 4 coffee

joon: u save ur money 4 clothes ;)

y/n: ew

joon: bitch do u want coffee or no

y/n: yes :)))

joon: ill b there @ 3, dnt b late like monday

y/n: okayyy see you at three joonie

joon: yep, night sexc

y/n: ew

joon: fine u can walk 2 starbucks

y/n: NO I’M SORRY

y/n: joon pls answer

y/n: stop leaving me on read !

y/n: fine, you can go to starbucks by yourself

joon: sorry

joon: y/n

joon: r u there

joon: bitch answer me

joon: ignore me if u wanna fuck

y/n: you’re such an idiot

joon: gn y/nie

y/n: night stupid, ilyyyy

joon: luv u 2 dummy

‘Hi, welcome to Starbucks! What can I get you?’ the barista asks, smiling widely. He’s handsome, with dirty blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and sparkling brown eyes, and I can’t help but smile back. ‘Hi, can I get two large iced vanilla lattes please?’ I ask, the boy nodding as he clicks away at the register. My eyes flit to his little name tag. His name is Hyunjin. Cute. ‘What name shall I put on the cups?’ he asks, eyes sparkling when he looks back up at me, and I smile shyly when I say, ‘y/n.’ ‘Pretty name for a pretty girl,’ he replies, not giving me a moment to process the compliment before he says, ‘that’ll be £7.40. Cash or card?’ ‘Card,’ a voice behind me says, and I turn to see Jaemin stood there, smiling. ‘Can I add a large iced americano to that too?’ he says, holding up his card, and Hyunjin nods, tapping at the register. ‘Jaemin, don’t. I’ll pay,’ I say, though it’s Namjoon’s money in my hand, not my own. ‘It’s fine, y/n. I don’t mind,’ he says with a grin, and I smile back, touched.

Jaemin moves around me to pay for the three drinks, and I feel a little awkward, stood behind him, waiting. ‘How have you been, y/n?’ he asks once he’s paid, and I smile. ‘I’ve been really good, thanks. How about you?’ ‘Yeah, great. You look… different since the last time I saw you,’ he says with a little smirk, and I roll my eyes, an amused smile playing at my lips. ‘I’m assuming that was a compliment.’ ‘Of course. How could it be anything other than a compliment when the ‘different’ I’m talking about is this?’ he says with a flirty grin, motioning to my outfit (a pair of tight black cargo trousers and a long-sleeved black top, big black stomper boots on my feet and silver jewellery).

Jaemin flirts with me for a little while, but his americano is ready before mine and Joon’s lattes and he has a lecture at 3.30, so he leaves with the promise of continuing our conversation at the ASP party tomorrow, which I had no idea about. ‘y/n!’ Hyunjin calls and I go over to grab the lattes. I notice a caramel shortbread on a plate beside the cups, and I look up at him questioningly, the boy grinning back. ‘It’s on the house,’ he says, and I can’t help but let out a giggle, flattered. ‘Thank you.’ ‘No problem… y/n. I’m a student, at the university, and I heard your… friend talking about the party tomorrow. I’ll be there, and it’d be nice to see you,’ he says, smiling as he leans against the counter casually, my heart jumping. He’s hot, he’s confident and he’s sweet – I could definitely see myself getting to know him. ‘Yeah, it’d be nice to see you too,’ I reply shyly, breaking off our eye contact after a few seconds. ‘See you tomorrow then,’ he grins before turning to deal with the next customer.

I carefully take the lattes and the shortbread over to mine and Joon’s table in the corner, the boy instantly biting into the shortbread. ‘That is mine.�� ‘I paid for your coffee, so I can have a bite of your shortbread,’ he says, mouth full of food, and I scrunch my nose up in disgust, sitting down opposite him. ‘No, actually, you didn’t.  Jaemin did,’ I say, dropping Joon’s money on the table in front of him, and he frowns. ‘Who’s Jaemin? The cute barista you were just flirting with?’ he asks drily as he picks up one of the coffees, taking a sip. ‘No, his name’s Hyunjin. And I wasn’t flirting with him,’ I say, embarrassed, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Then what’s this?’ he asks, holding his cup out to me. I can’t hold back my smile when I see that Hyunjin’s written his number on the label with a smiley face beside it. ‘Exactly what I thought. Anyway… who’s Jaemin?’ ‘KPN Jaemin. He was behind me in the queue and he paid for our drinks. And then Hyunjin gave me the shortbread for free,’ I say, and Joon narrows his eyes at me.

‘I can’t believe you’re making these boys do all these things for you.’ ‘They’re doing it voluntarily – I’m not making them do anything!’ ‘So you didn’t make Donghyuck get your Vanilla Coke on Wednesday?’ ‘No, he choose to go get it!’ ‘Well, you’re putting Tia and Tamera to good use.’ ‘Tia and Tamera?’ I ask, confused, and he points at my chest. ‘Tia… and Tamera,’ he says, naming each boob, ‘don’t you listen to Doja Cat?’ ‘Not religiously – Say So’s the only song of hers on my Spotify.’ ‘Tasteless.’ ‘You’re tasteless for accusing me of using my boobs to manipulate boys,’ I hiss, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Did I lie?’ ‘Yes!’ ‘Okay, maybe I did. It’s not just Tia and Tamera. It’s Tia and Tamera and… Nicole!’ he says, and I blink in confusion. ‘Nicole?’ ‘Use your brain.’ ‘Did you just name my ass Nicole?’ I ask incredulously, and he nods, seemingly proud of himself. ‘People look at it more than they look at your face, so I think it deserves naming,’ he says bitterly, and I gasp. ‘That was low. People look at my face. I’m not just my body. My face is pretty too,’ I say coldly, a little hurt, and he looks guilty. ‘Well, of course your face is pretty, I just-’ ‘You just what? Judged me, even though you’ve slept with more girls than I’ve ever been friends with? Just remember that there’s a lot you’ve done that I could judge you on, but I don’t, because we’re best friends.’

The air is tense after I finish speaking, and I feel sick. Joon and I have never argued. Our friendship has always been so laidback, so chill, so easy. I’ve never had any downs in my friendship with him because we get along so well. But I’m surprised at him being so judgmental, and so… douchey about me getting some male attention for the first time in… well, forever. ‘Sorry, y/n. I’m being a dick,’ he says softly, and I can see that he feels guilty. I decide it’s best to end our argument here, because this isn’t a nice feeling. ‘Whatever, it’s fine, Joon. Anyway… you didn’t tell me ASP are having a party tomorrow! Am I not invited?’ I tease, and he grins, the tension between us gone. ‘No, you’re not. I’m tired of you being so dependent on me.’ ‘Shut it. You’d be lost without me.’ ‘Whatever. I was supposed to tell you about it at KPN, but I barely got to speak to you. You were… popular that night,’ he says quietly, not meeting my eyes, and suddenly, I can feel the awkwardness making a reappearance. ‘Ah, well, I guess there’s no point asking you to take me to Red Velvet then,’ I say wistfully, trying to change the subject, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Ask Wang, he’ll take you.’ ‘No, it’s fine. I don’t wanna be bloated at the party. We can reschedule to Sunday – order some for a hangover cure. Can I sleep over?’ I ask, and he nods, smiling to himself. ‘You and Nayeon are always welcome. There’s enough bed space for the three of us.’ ‘You say that, and yet, you end up on the floor with us two in your bed every time.’ ‘I’ll climb in with you while you’re asleep.’ ‘Isn’t that illegal?’ ‘Shut up and eat your shortbread. Or do you not wanna be bloated?’ ‘Matter of fact, you’re right. These cargo trousers are already tight.’ ‘That’s because you’ve got a fat ass.’

y/n: hey, is this hyunjin ? from Starbucks ?

hyunjin: yeah, and is this y/n ? the pretty cargo trousers girl ?

y/n: the one and only ☺️

hyunjin: I was worried you wouldn’t reach out to me after I saw you go and sit with that boy

hyunjin: I felt terrible bc I didn’t even ask if you had a boyfriend

y/n: oh no, he isn’t my boyfriend

y/n: he’s my best friend, namjoon

hyunjin: as in kim namjoon ?

y/n: yep, you’ve probably heard of him lol

hyunjin: I have lmao he has quite a reputation

hyunjin: I didn’t recognise him

hyunjin: I just saw you go and sit with a handsome boy and I felt awful

y/n: well, you don’t have to feel bad

y/n: and he’s not that handsome lmao

y/n: he’s just… namjoon

hyunjin: well, I’ll have to thank him when I see him

hyunjin: if he hadn’t given you my number from his cup, I’d have felt like an idiot

y/n: it’s a good thing he pointed it out to me lol

hyunjin: yeah, I’m relieved

hyunjin: I know it’s forward of me and I hope you don’t think I’m out of line

hyunjin; but I just thought you were really cute and I didn’t want to waste the opportunity

hyunjin: especially after jaemin paid for your drinks and flirted with you

hyunjin: I know it sounds silly but I was debating whether or not it was worth competing with him

y/n: jaemin’s not really interested, he flirts with anything that has a pulse

y/n: but I’m glad you didn’t waste the opportunity

y/n: I thought you were cute too, and I love your hair

hyunjin: ah thank you! I was a little nervous about growing it out

y/n: it’s unique, and it really suits you

hyunjin: thanks y/n :)

hyunjin: it’s late so I’m gonna head to bed but I’m glad you texted me, and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow !

y/n: okay, hyunjin, goodnight ! see you tomorrow :)

hyunjin: goodnight ! :)

joon: do u need a lift tmrw

y/n: no, jackson said he’s gonna pick us up

y/n: but thank you for offering anywayyy

joon: ok

joon: why did it take you 30 mins 2 reply its lit rally 2am, what else r u busy with

y/n: I was texting

joon: who

y/n: oh, just the, um, the girls groupchat, to talk about what we’re gonna wear tomorrow

joon: ok

y/n: I’m gonna go to bed, I’ll speak to you tomorrow

joon: aight gn dum dum

y/n: night joonie, sweet dreamsss

joon: ill dream of u in ur crop tops

y/n: pervert

joon: luv u ;)

y/n: love you more dumbass

‘y/n! y/n! y/n!’ ‘Oh, my God, Nayeon, you’re like a child! I’m mid-conversation!’ ‘I know, but this is important!’ she says, tugging on the strap of my top, her force nearly making me spill my drink down my outfit. I thought I’d dress simple, in just a black strappy lowcut crop top and a pair of ripped blue jeans, fluffy black slides on my feet and simple gold jewellery to accessorise. ‘Sorry, Dahyun,’ I sigh with a roll of my eyes, the girl grinning back. ‘It’s fine – go deal with your important business,’ she laughs, and Nayeon takes this as a signal to drag me into the kitchen, leaving Dahyun alone in the back garden. ‘What is it?’ I ask, and she grins. ‘I found your cute barista boy! Well, I think so, anyway. Not many boys have dirty blond ponytails.’ ‘Oh… okay.’ ‘Aren’t you excited?’ ‘I think you’re excited enough for both of us.’ ‘I’m serious, y/n! I saw him, and he’s really hot! You’ve been texting all day, and you said he’s really sweet. He could be your first boyfriend!’ ‘Nayeon, you’re getting ahead of yourself – I’ve literally known him for… 32 hours. And I don’t even know him, really. All I know is his name and that he works at Starbucks.’ ‘Well… this is your chance to get to know him. He’s with his friends in the living room – go,’ she says, not giving me a chance to reply before she pushes me through the open door.

He spots me instantly, calling my name, and I scan the room until my eyes meet his, smiles breaking across our faces as he waves me over. I head around the edges of the room, not wanting to get caught in the group of people dancing, until I reach him and his friends in the corner. ‘Hey, y/n! You look nice!’ he exclaims, smiling widely, and I feel butterflies; he really is so handsome. ‘Thanks, Hyunjin. You do, too,’ I say honestly, looking him up and down; his black jeans, loose blue and white striped shirt only buttoned halfway with a black t-shirt beneath are a chic and stylish contrast to the Starbucks apron he was wearing yesterday. Half of his hair is up in a ponytail with a few loose strands framing his face and his ears are adorned with earrings, sparkling in the low light. He introduces me to his friends, who all seem nice (I think I’ve seen a few of them before – I’m sure a couple of them are KPN frat brothers). As soon as the introductions are done, he asks if I’ll go with him to get a drink. He takes my hand gently – a shock running up my arm at the contact – and leads me into the kitchen, getting himself a bottle of Soju from the fridge. ‘Do you want one?’ he asks, and I scrunch up my nose – I find Soju absolutely disgusting. ‘Thanks, but I’ll stick to my vodka coke for now,’ I say, holding up my cup, the boy laughing as he nods, shutting the fridge after him.

We stand in one corner of the kitchen, chatting, and our conversation flows so easily. He’s an architecture and design major, but he does dance on the side too, with some of his friends. I ask him to tell me the basic things about him and I find out that he has a dog called Kkami, he loves autumn, he’s allergic to cat fur, his favourite food is sushi and his least favourite foods are onion, carrot and eggplant. Even though he’s so handsome (like intimidatingly handsome), he’s so modest, down-to-earth, and just so sweet. He’s like a breath of fresh air in comparison to the boys I spend time with on a daily basis (no shade to Jackson and Joon, but they’re nowhere near as gentlemanly as Hyunjin – he gets me two refills before I even realise that my cup is empty, and he gets me two slices of pizza as soon as it arrives because I mentioned I hadn’t eaten). I can already feel myself crushing on him; every time he compliments me, I get so flustered and all I can do is giggle – two weeks ago me would have hated now me.

After what could be hours (I’m having the time of my life chatting away to him), he asks me to dance with him, and I’m filled with an inexplicable fear. Actually, no. It’s explicable; I have never danced at a party before. Ever. ‘It’s okay… I won’t bite,’ he teases, and I take a deep breath, smiling as I nod. He takes my hand again, his touch so light and gentle, and instead of pulling me along behind him, he lets me go first, standing just a few inches behind me as we head into the living room. We mould into the group of our peers dancing, and I feel a little awkward at first, but I soon loosen up into the rhythm of the Rihanna and Bryson Tiller song pulsing out into the room. He’s really the perfect gentleman; he doesn’t lay a hand on me other than to move me out of the way when someone drunk stumbles past. It’s a nice change from the boys that don’t hesitate to just come up behind a girl and grab onto her waist, forcing himself onto her.

But after a while, I can feel the several vodka cokes starting to take effect, my mind a little hazy, and a tipsy y/n mixed with the RnB baselines floating out from the speakers isn’t a good combination. Hyunjin’s tan skin glows in the low light, his eyes sparkling, and he looks so fucking handsome, his plump lips stretching up into a flawless grin when I hook my arms around his neck loosely, moving closer. We dance a little more… intimately, our bodies pressed together after a few minutes, and his hands rest on my lower back, not venturing any lower, and his eyes stay on my face, even though my cleavage is right there. His gentlemanliness just makes him even sexier to me.

I look up at him, and notice that some of his hair in his face, and so I reach to brush it back behind his ear. His hair is so soft, the locks just gliding between my fingers, and I can’t help but run my fingers through the loose hair that he hasn’t pulled up into a ponytail, my nails gently scraping against the back of his neck. He shivers a little, his neck obviously sensitive, and it makes me look him in the eyes, practically getting lost in them. And before my brain can even register it, he leans towards me and my eyes flutter shut, his lips softly brushing against mine a few moments later. My first kiss.

He moves away, almost to check if I’m okay with it, and I just lean towards him, pressing our lips together again, making him let out a chuckle against my mouth. My mind numbs a little when he parts my lips with his, his tongue sliding into my mouth, and I really didn’t know that kissing was this good. His hands press into my back, holding me against him, and I grip onto his strong shoulders, his scent of lemony shampoo and expensive aftershave flooding my senses as our lips move against each other. ‘y/n, get a room!’ I hear Jin, one of Joon’s stupid friends, shout, followed by laughter, making me break away from Hyunjin, blinking as though I’ve just woken up, Hyunjin just smiling back at me. I turn to Jin, shooting him a dirty look and telling him to fuck off before turning back to Hyunjin. I feel braver than usual due to the alcohol and the fact that I’ve just kissed a boy I met yesterday in the middle of a frat party, and so I ask, ‘do you… want to get a room?’ ‘Um… what?’ he asks, blinking, and I feel the humiliation setting in already. ‘I mean, we don’t have to… but I thought you might want t-’ ‘Yes. I do want to.’

We’re both laughing drunkenly as we head up the stairs (it seems the several bottles of Soju he’s had have made him a little tipsy), our hands clasped together. ‘Whose room are we using?’ ‘Um, we can use Namjoon’s. I’m sure he won’t mind – he’ll be proud I’ve finally kissed a boy,’ I say, leading him into Joon’s room. The second we enter, he shuts the door, pushing me up against it and pressing our lips together again, his body against mine and our hands still intertwined against the door. I tangle my free hand into his soft locks, his free hand gently roaming up and down my side, and it’s bliss, the way he touches me. He’s such a good kisser – though it’s not like I have much experience anyway. ‘Did you say I’m your first kiss?’ he asks, lips moving against mine, and I let out a little noise of affirmation, the boy grinning. ‘Good,’ he murmurs, the word making my stomach turn with butterflies.

But it’s like I’m not allowed good things. There’s a loud hammering against the other side of the door, making both of us jump, and I manage to move out of the way just before it flies open, Namjoon storming in, anger all over his face. ‘y/n,’ he says, voice shaking, and I look at him in concern, wondering what’s happened. ‘Joon, are you okay?’ ‘No, I’m not,’ he says, teeth gritted, and it’s then that I realise; he’s angry at me. ‘Oh, did you… should I have asked you if I could use your room? I didn’t think you’d mind, I’m so-’ ‘God, you’re so fucking dense!’ he shouts, making me flinch, and Hyunjin looks between us before saying, ‘y/n, I’m gonna go, you guys speak in private. I’ll… be downstairs.’ I nod, too shocked to speak, and even more shocked at the way Namjoon stares daggers at Hyunjin as he slips past him.

‘What’s your problem? There’s no need to be such a dick to me, or to Hyunjin.’ ‘Oh, so you do know his name? I’m surprised, since you only met him yesterday.’ ‘Stop being so fucking judgy! You’re allowed to fuck anything with a vagina, but I kiss a boy I met yesterday and the world’s ending!’ ‘I’m not judgy, y/n, I’m jealous! Can’t you fucking tell?’ he practically screams, and the words don’t register with me for a moment. ‘Jealous?’ I echo, and he lets out a humourless laugh, sinking down onto his bed. ‘Yes, y/n, jealous. I’ve only been in love with you for two fucking years,’ he mutters, the words hitting me like a ton of bricks. He’s in love with me. My best friend is in love with me. ‘Joon, I-’ ‘You what, y/n?’ he asks angrily, and I’m filled with such rage, I want to slap him.

‘I didn’t know! If you’d told me, I’d understand why you’re so angry! But you didn’t, so stop fucking shouting at me, and being such a dick, and making me feel guilty when I shouldn’t!’ ‘There was no point telling you, because you don’t love me back!’ he shouts, and now I feel even more guilty. ‘I love you, Joon, but as my best frie-’ ‘And that’s why I didn’t tell you! I could deal before, when I was still getting to spend time with you every day, but now that you’re getting all this attention from all these boys, it’s so… difficult.’ ‘You still should have told me,’ I say quietly, and he scoffs. ‘There was no point! It doesn’t change anything! You still don’t like me!’ ‘No, I don’t, but you shouldn’t be angry at me about it.’ ‘I think I have a right to be angry!’ he shouts, and my eyes fill with tears. ‘Well, you don’t! Forgive me, Namjoon, but you’re not exactly a gentleman. Why would I fall for a boy that has a different girl in his bed every day, who plays girls like it’s his job, who’s misogynistic and vulgar and a dog? You don’t get to be such a dick to women and have your best friend fall in love with you, because it doesn’t work that way!’

‘Oh, and Hyunjin isn’t a dick?’ ‘No! He’s sweet, and he’s kind, an-’ ‘You’ve known him for one day, and you’re already rushing upstairs to lose your fucking virginity to him! I thought you’d care more about your first time!’ he shouts, still so judgmental, and I feel myself practically shaking with rage. How dare he behave the way he does and judge me, even though he’s supposedly in love with me? ‘Why do you care who I lose my virginity to?’ ‘Because I’m in love with you! Aren’t you fucking keeping up?’ ‘No, Namjoon, you’re not in love with me. If you were, you’d be happy that I’m happy. Instead you’re possessive and judgemental and douchey!’ We’re shouting at each other now, and anyone outside will be able to hear, but I don’t care. Let them hear how much of a dick he is. ‘I loved who you were, when-’ ‘When what? When boys didn’t talk to me? When you and Jackson were the only boys I spoke to at parties? When I was pure, untouched, innocent? Now, you’re annoyed, because I’m not who you thought I was. I don’t owe you anything, Namjoon, because you can’t expect me to have just known.’

‘Just go, y/n,’ he says, all of the anger in him disappearing, and he sounds so tired, looks so tired. And, as always, I feel guilty. ‘Joon-’ ‘No. Please, just go,’ he says, and when he looks up at me, my heart breaks. His eyes are full of tears, sadness, hurt, but the second they land on mine, they’re filled with love, too. Love that I can’t reciprocate because, he might be my best friend, but he is disgusting to girls. And I can’t love that. I can’t love him. ‘Okay. I’ll go,’ I whisper, turning away and leaving his room before I burst into tears.

[spohkh]

miracle on cornelia street [dean/castiel]

so BASICALLY sarah @adanceinasnowglobe and i were talking about what everyone would be up to post-series -- yknow, like, now that theyre all safe and healthy n everythings cool and destiel is officially together. yknow. as happened in canon -- and we were like so obviously destiel get a house, and thats kind of the basis of this verse so !! this is the foundational fic for what i HOPE will be a series of fun lil day-in-the-life drabbles, from both me and sarah!! 

ehehehe :-) enjoy!

read on AO3

The house is a quaint thing, sitting low and snug under a pair of shady oak trees in a quiet suburb just outside of downtown Lawrence. Its brickwork face is weathered—definitely in need of a good power wash—and the roof is just as worn. The bottom step to the porch slants unevenly, and the porch itself has cracks in the concrete. There are chips in the paint on the window frames, the iron porch railing is rusting, and who knows when the gutters were last given a proper cleaning.

There’s a lot of work to be done, but standing there in the small front lawn, Dean Winchester can’t say if he’s ever seen anyplace else so perfect as the house at 3767 Cornelia Street. Dean’s house—his home. His home with Cas.

“Can you believe it?” he quietly says to Miracle, who has been sitting patiently by Dean’s leg. Miracle tilts her head and wags her tail. Dean looks back up at the house. “Yeah, me neither.”

The sound of a familiar car rumbling up the road snaps Dean out of his reverie. He rubs a knuckle at his eye and clears his throat and tries to look like he hadn’t been standing in his front yard about to cry while talking to his dog, christ.

The car rolls to a stop on the curb just in front of the house. The driver’s side door opens, and Sam slowly unfolds his ridiculous limbs as he gets out. It’s always a wonder how he can fit himself into a car at all. Sam gives a dorky little wave as he ambles over to where Dean is standing.

Dean peers behind Sam, trying to see into the car. “What, no Eileen?”

“Hello to you, too. Dick,” he replies snarkily. ��She’s wrapping up a work thing. She’ll come over when she’s done.”

Dean sucks his teeth in disappointment. “Ah, well. Guess you can go home then.” Sam shoves at his shoulder. Dean just laughs and pulls Sam in for a proper hello hug.

“Why are you standing out here, anyway?” Sam asks when they part.

“Can’t a man just hang out in his own front yard? Accompanied by a dashing canine companion?” He leans down to pat Miracle on the head.

“I guess…” Sam looks down at Miracle. When she tips her head up and gazes back at him, Sam snorts.

“What?”

“Miracle on Cornelia Street,” Sam says with mirth.

Dean squints at him. “What?” he repeats, now more incredulous.

“You know—like Miracle on 34th Street. But we’re on Cornelia, so.” He nods down at the dog. “Miracle on Cornelia Street.”

“Dude.” Dean rolls his eyes at Sam’s goofy grin and starts walking up the path to the house, Miracle trotting behind him. “Shut up and come inside already.”

Sam follows after him, pausing just inside the threshold as he spots something on the doorframe. “Oh, classy,” he says, throwing a sardonic look to where D.W. and C.W. are scratched into the wood.

“Just wait,” Dean jokes with a toothy smile, “when I got the time I’m gonna draw a little heart around it.” He was joking, but now that he said it, he kind of wanted to.

Cas looks up from the stove when they walk into the dining room. He’s wearing one of Dean’s old AC/DC tees, the logo all but worn away from being washed so many times. He’s usually in some ratty tee or other when lounging around these days. But in honor of Sam’s visit today (Cas’ words) and to seem a little more dressy short of donning his usual button-downs (Dean’s private opinion), he’s also wearing the cable-knit cardigan Sam got him as a gift last Christmas. “Hi, Sam.”

Sam leans against the counter that separates the dining and kitchen areas, craning his giraffe neck to catch a glimpse at the stove. “Hey, Cas! What’cha cooking?”

“Nothing. Dean made it. I was just watching the pot so it didn’t boil over.” He locks eyes with Dean, his intent stare very clearly communicating I did not touch the chili I added nothing I did not touch the dial I was just watching it like you asked so don’t even start.

Dean just smiles as he walks past the counter and steps into Cas’ space. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he says, and busses Cas on the cheek.

“You’re welcome,” Cas replies warmly. He’s gazing up at Dean with those summer afternoon blue eyes, standing in one of Dean’s shirts and that dorky cardigan, and Dean starts to get full of that feeling from out in the front yard again. If they were alone, Dean would probably say something recklessly sappy like I am so stupid in love with you.

As it is, Dean clears his throat and turns back to Sam, slinging an arm around Cas’ shoulders, and says, “He did the salad.”

Cas sneaks him a knowing look before, thankfully, putting his attention on Sam without commenting on Dean’s hasty redirection. “I did the salad,” Cas agrees blithely, and places the salad bowl on the counter for Sam to see, seeming pleased with himself.

Sam looks between the two of them, an amused tilt to his eyebrow that Dean implicitly distrusts. He’s definitely thinking mocking thoughts about the two of them. But he just quirks a smile and says, “It looks great.” Shrewd little diplomat.

Cas shifts to the side to see past Sam’s shoulder. Sam glances behind himself before shooting Cas a confused look.

“She’s still at work,” Dean tells Cas, guessing who he’s looking for. “Sadly.”

“What, am I not good enough?”

“Of course you are,” Cas promises earnestly, just as Dean says, “Well…”

Sam’s opening his mouth to retort, probably something absolutely scathing, when his phone chimes. He pulls it out of his pocket, a smile spreading over his face. “Speak of the devil,” he says, then tips his head with a grimace, “as it were. That was Eileen. She’ll be here soon, so I’m gonna go wash up.”

“Bathroom’s down the hall—“

“Dude, I know where it is. I did help you guys move in.”

Dean spreads his hands in assent. “Fine, christ, I swear never to be a good host to you in my home ever again. Go ahead and go take your dump now.”

“I’m not gonna—ohmygodnevermind.” He turns on his heel and huffs down the hall, Miracle trotting after him, the tags on her collar clinking together jauntily.

Dean reaches past Cas to turn the burner off, then lands his hand on Cas’ hip. “Have I told you today how cute you are in that sweater?”

“Yes.” Cas brings his hands up to cradle Dean’s face. “Four times.”

“Make it five.” Dean kisses him. He pulls Cas into a hug, pressing his face against Castiel’s shoulder. They sway into each other. After a warm moment, Dean says in a low voice, “The first family dinner in our house.”

Cas hums a soft, contented sound in agreement. “The first of many,” he responds, just as quiet. Dean squeezes him tighter. He knows they’re both thinking about Jack and Claire, their bedrooms sitting empty and waiting for whenever they can find the time to visit—and Kaia and Alex and Jody with Claire, if they can, and Charlie and her girlfriend, and Bobby, and all the other wayward extensions of their sprawling family caught out in the wind. Their house isn’t big enough to host everyone, but with Sam and Eileen up the block and the bunker just a few miles out, there’s plenty of room to put up people who come out their way. Dean has the hope that 3767 Cornelia Street becomes a common pitstop for folks—a suburban Roadhouse, a tidier (much tidier) Singer Salvage.

Dean presses a kiss against Cas’ neck, and Cas breathes a sweet little sigh that pushes all thoughts about future dinners right out the window. Fuck, this dinner could go out the window, for all he cares. He kisses a little higher up, right under Cas’ jawline, before pulling back to catch Castiel’s darkened gaze. “How ‘bout we ditch the nag and go have a private party of our own?”

“Dean, no. I worked really hard on that salad.” He sounds perfectly serious, but the playful glint in his eye gives him away. Dean snorts, mumbling oh, forgive me, Chef Cas as he leans in again.

Just as they kiss, Sam walks back in. “Hey, I think something’s wrong with your sink–- oh, sorry.”

“Huh?” Dean reluctantly pulls away as Sam clears his throat, looking sheepish. “What’s wrong with what, Sammy?”

“Uh, with your bathroom.”

“The bathroom? Oh, what, you clogged the toilet?”

“Wha— N—  I DID NOT SHIT IN YOUR BATHROOM.”

“Then how did the toilet get messed up?”

“It’s the SINK, the SINK—”

“You took a shit in the sink?”

Cas pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dean…”

“What? He started it.”

“Started WHAT?”

Dean snaps his fingers. “The end of the world.”

“Oh! My god!”

“I guess technically, yeah, since god is our kid...” He turns to Cas. “Weird, weird lives we lead.”

Cas just shakes his head, clearly exasperated. Sam has given up on speaking completely and has fallen back on making a gesture like he’s one second away from grabbing Dean by the throat.

“I was there for all twelve years of it,” Sam says to Cas, “and I still can’t believe you stayed with this guy.”

“Well,” Cas muses serenely, “you’ve been here a lot longer than me.”

Sam grimaces when Dean throws him his best shit-eating grin. Nothing like his two favorite people bonding over how much of a pain he is.

The sound of the front door opening distracts them, and then a voice calls, “Knock knock! The life of the party has arrived!”

“Eileen!” Sam exclaims happily. Miracle takes off down the hall, Sam hot on her heels.

Dean chuckles at Sam’s unabashed excitement, then gives Castiel another peck on the cheek before moving away from him. “Can you put everything out on the table? I’ll go check out the bathroom sitch real quick.”

Cas catches his hand as he starts to leave, softly saying his name. When Dean looks back at him, Cas smiles and says, “I love you.”

Dean wonders if maybe three time’s the charm and he should just give in to what his body wants him to do. If a man has a right to stand around and cry messily anywhere in his own home, surely the kitchen would be the place to do it. The kitchen, after all, is the heart of any house.

But Dean doesn’t. He indulges in a little sniffle, Cas’ eyes glimmering with knowing in the soft light. Dean brings Cas’ hand to his mouth and kisses the neat gold band around his finger, and he kisses each peaked knuckle, and he turns Cas’ hand over and kisses his palm and his wrist. Then he lets go and puts his own hand against Cas’ cheek, and says his recklessly sappy thing: “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

And the glowing feeling inside him doesn’t settle, only grows brighter.

Whatever’s wrong with the sink will be just one more thing to a long list of shit to deal with. Their house needs work, no denying. But Dean knows they’ve got plenty of time.

[chezforshire]

AU where marceline is the school's local harana for hire she writes quick songs for anyone who wants to have a song sung for anyone for whatever reason they want

It's usually a lot of love songs (she's gotten tired of this really fast) but sometimes she gets requests for songs for friends

Anyway, Lady and Jake help her out with this business by making bouquets and playing along with her respectively. And Bon is usually just someone she bounces ideas with cause Marce may know so many people, but there's still a number of rich prissy losers that Bon knows and that's usually her clients. Also, Bon loves getting to stretch her writing skills.

(Though she's also pretty tired of love songs)

Marce gets a commission one day to make a song for Bon and she just kinda. Stares at it. Her clients aren't anonymous. Well, not usually. A lot of her songs are made from shared memories and the small percent made from flowery words are usually douchelords who are too confident about their place to think they'd need anonymity in case of rejection.

So when she sees that this one didn't have a name she was a little... confused. There was also the fact that Bon is notorious for saying no to everyone who tries to ask her out. And not in a way where friends tell friends this, but more of she said no to a guy who payed the whole school to get in on his grand plan to ask her out

(Even Marce tho it wasn't for a song. It was more of he asked her to drive Bon to school at a specific time. She obviously told Bon this but they didn't have a lot of time to talk about it bc the guy texted everyone their roles literally on midnight and wired the cash after sending the message.

A little worrying how he not only got everyone's number but also everyone's bank account. She and most of her friends changed phones then bc that was creepy as all hell)

She doesn't tell Bon. Not because of some customer confidentiality or whatever but because... Well she doesn't really know. It just made her irrationally irritated and sad. Odd.

She takes far longer than usual to reply to this. She doesn't understand the hesitation. Or maybe she does? Bon has called her a bleeding heart a million times and she guesses thats the reason. She feels bad for them and doesn't want to watch another person who put in effort be rejected. Yeah that's it. She should tell him that. Maybe they were new or something. It'll be fine, plus they didn't want a full song so they werent paying much. Yeah, that sounds like a game plan.

The next day she says yes and wonders all day why she did that

For about a month she keeps this commission to herself. She spaces out more than usual during this time. Not quite disassociating, just staring into space and thinking.

Bon isn't worried bc this is usually how she gets when she's got a song in the works. She needles her about what it is and who it's for, but she generally deflects and at some point just straight up lies and says some random names.

She also learns more about her client. They're not new, they've actually known Bon for about 3 to 5 years. They're pretty close apparently and actually knows Marce personally. Theyve talked several times and have hung out here and there too. (That sure didn't make her anxiety and paranoia skyrocket)

She feels a lot of anxiety and worry and trepidation and god other irrational shit about this commission. She doesn't really tell anyone (something her therapist, or Bon more importanly Bon, would frown at) so she's just left to wallow about it on her own. She tries working on it as much as she can but it just feels... wrong somehow. She doesn't really get it but she feels like she'll lose something because of this. She doesn't get it. She knows they'll be rejected and they'll all laugh at it in the end and just.

What is it. What's wrong.

She feels a tap on her shoulder and she almost falls off her bed. Jake's apparently been trying to talk to her for a solid minute and oh jeez now he's got that Worried Big Brother look.

He peers at her and asks what's wrong and not-so-subtly threatens that he'll stay and use his Big Brother mode on her if she tries to lie to him

She just sighs heavily and curls up

"Someone commissioned a suicide mission"

Jake makes an 'o' with his mouth. Theyve always called anyone who tried to flirt with Bon a suicide mission and laughed pretty hard at it. Even Bon calls the poors souls who try suicide missions.

She uncurls a bit and faces Jake with a small smile, ready to laugh with him about it as she should. But for some reason Jake just... Looks at her with this worried look. Not his patented Im-Worried-For-You-Little-Sibling but more of one would give to a friend when they know something they don't.

Marce laughs, shakey and unsure. "What? S'not like this doesn't happen. It's Bon, ya know? The sweatheart of the school." With a mean streak that rivals the devil, she adds quietly- fondly- in her head.

Jake just nods slowly. He drags his eyes away from her and stares at her wall, eyes unfocused.

Marce starts having a bit of a panic because what is that face, why is Jake acting like this, is there somethin on her wall, wait does he know the client, is he friends with the client, is he the client, w-

Jake flops his short, chunky body on her bed and pulls her to lay down too. Roughly, might she add. And not to mention absolutely unexpected.

He's smiling again, big and all teeth. It twitches for a second when he makes eye contact but bounces back so quick she thinks she might have imagined it.

"Ha! You're gonna write for a suicide mission this is hilarious!" He makes a move to ruffle her hair and she just starts flailing to avoid this. "Man! I haven't seen one in a while so this'll be fun at least. Something else to keep us busy other than those stupid douchefucks who thinks a song is a sure fire way to get laid."

Marce is confused but doesn't question this sudden change. Plus it actually helps? She snickers -because no, she doesnt giggle she is cooler than that- at the thought of watching the client be rejected before Marce can even pull out her guitar.

"Yeah, threw me off like hell cause Bon is practically legendary but hey apparently there are still some brave souls out there."

"Oh dude, I've got a great ass idea," Jake sits up and leans on his elbows, "Let's keep this a secret from princess. Oh and Lady cause you know she cant keep anything from her."

Marce kinda laughs at this in confusion. "Uh what? Why? If you haven't noticed my services include a bouquet and unless you've learned flower language I dont think we can take Lady outta the equation."

He snorts "I may not know flowers, but I know my girlfriend. I can just be vague and she'll take it as a challenge and try to make the perfect bouquet. S'no problem on that front.

"I figured we could keep it a secret so we can see Bon's pure and raw reaction. Like I said, there hasn't been a suicide mission in a looooong while so she probably doesn't expect this. And it'll be way more funny cause someone commissioned you for it. Where it is no secret that a) you do this and b) you get help from the three of us."

"You got a point there detective. Bur fair warning, Bon will be giving us the stink eye for days if we do this. Especially me because she's my thesaurus and metaphor maker. You know how she loves taking credit for making them sound like a stupid romance novel."

"Psh, she loves you to hell and back. She'll just pout at you for a while and when you buy her her favourite candy it'll be right as rain."

Okay, that sounded valid but at the same time Marceline kind of shut down after Jake said Bon loves her so uh she guesses she'll just trust that it'll be fine?

" 'nother idea," Jake says softly. He's looking at he- actually. No he's not looking at her, hes just looking her way but his eyes are just. Not there.

"Uh, shoot"

"Make this song the best you've ever made."

Marceline laughs for a second before she realizes okay wait Jake is serious about that. What. Why the fuck would she do that.

He shrugs and smiles again. Soft and pitying -what why why is Jake acting like this what the fuck- and he gestures around a bit before speaking.

"Well, first off it'll be good practice for you. You've been workin with Bon for about as log as you've been doing this so think of this as a test to see how you are now on your own.

"Second, well ya gotta admit if you pull out a banger and Bon actually likes it it'll be way funnier cause you can sing it and she'll look all annoyed but you can see that her tapping her foot and bobbing her head. It'll be funny for everyone involved.

"And lastly," Jake takes a deep breath before speaking, as if this is one of the toughest things he's done in a while. "Call it a father's intuition."

She stares at him. She- she doesn't know hwo to react to that.

After a second, Jake cracks a soft smile and "Did you get Lady pregnant, you fucking askal" just slips out of her mouth.

Jake laughs loud and boisterous at this and Marce just follows.

Yeah, she might as well make this the best one she's ever made. The client won't get the girl, but at least she can make her like it

[pretty-restless-insomniac]

Tear Me To Pieces (W.C. 1,738)

Fandom: Riverdale

Word Count: 1,738

Pairing: Sweet Pea / Reader

Rating:  Teens and Up

Summary: "You couldn't just stay away, could you?" Pea's eyes shine with unshed tears and bites his lip shaking his head. You can't stand it any longer. 

WARNINGS:  Cussing

Part One I’m Not Her

Part Two Say Something

AO3  Or Click Keep Reading Below!

    You sigh as yet another call vibrates through your phone, disrupting the rare moment of peace you're finally experiencing. You know its him. Pea wasn't joking when he promised to be relentless. It's been a rough month since your last conversation, but thats something you won't ever tell another soul. Riverdale doesn't exactly have the best track record of keeping secrets, so you bode well to suffer in silence.  But damn, you miss him so much. Crying yourself to sleep nearly every night has taken not only a mental toll on your body, but quite noticeably a physical as well. You've barely eaten, face slightly gaunter and dark purple bags under your eyes. And mentally, you're  exhausted, a constant war waging inside of your mind. To give in or fight through the loneliness.

     But when the  phone started to ring again, your body makes the choice, launching at your phone to quickly answer it. 

   "Hello," you flinch at the croak that comes from you. 

    "Y/n, Jesus-Christ in Prada boots, you sound like shit, everyone's been trying to get ahold of you for the past 3 weeks! Three! Where the hell have you been?" You almost hate yourself for the small stab of disappointment that it wasn't him but you merely wince at Cheryl's blunt response.  Before you could muster up a crappy excuse, you hear a sigh and the phone being snatched away by her pink haired beau.

    "Don't mind her, Y/n, she doesn't take being ignored well - baby, no, I love you for it don't worry- ," her voice gets softer when she talks to her girlfriend. You hate the tears that well up in your eyes at tone, and you hate your mind for replaying all the times you were addressed in that soft tone, from your own love. Fucking. Hell.

     "Y/N, you still there?" You shake your head, trying to calm your racing mind.

      "Yeah, I-I'm here," You take a deep breath hoping for your voice to be at least a little more steady, "I'm sorry for disappearing on you guys, I've just had a lot to think about. And I think best alone, but I-I think I'll be o-okay now." 

     You almost laugh at your own lie as you catch sight of your horrid appearance in your dresser mirror. 'Okay' when the fuck is anybody really okay? What does okay even mean? The awkward silence ensues as Toni decides within herself whether it would be better to call you out on your lie, or not. You can just imagine the standoff going on between the two Vixens right now, no doubt having you on speaker, and no doubt one wanting to call your bullshit more than the other. A disgruntled groan is your only warning before you realize that yes, you're in for it..

     "Okay? Yeah, and you're also not supposed to mix gold and silver jewelry but does it look like I give a damn? Listen, what I'm about to tell you is what you told me when my darling JJ was taken by the cold clutches of death and deceit. Get your shit together. Take off the stupid Snoopy PJ's that I know you're wearing. Put on a bra, yes, the buckle type, boo-hoo. Pull on the red dress in the closet that I got you and do whatever you have to do to get the rest of you presentable. Blow torch, laser, hell I don't care, but you got 5 minutes till I'm picking your sulking ass up. We're going out."

     You're stunned when the line goes dead, eyeing your PJ's with wonder. You're not sure what being gifted you Cheryl Blossom, God or the Devil, but you know you're dead if you don't start running around now. Off you go, moving more than you had in the past few weeks, and becoming out-of-breath embarrassingly fast. You stand in front of the mirror, contemplating what to do with your hair. Luckily you sleep in braids so it's not a complete rats-nest, and you're relieved when soft waves fall past your shoulders. Your pale complexion and purple bags can't be helped much, so you decide to just fuck it and go without makeup. You're not trying to impress anyone anyways. 

     You're shuffling your way to the door, when it's suddenly thrown open and in strolls your raptor. Cheryl eyes you before scoffing and rolling her eyes, reaching her hand into the bag Toni is holding. Toni sends a sympathetic smile before Cheryl's tossing a pair of low-heeled sandals your way. You eye them and then eye the determined aura surrounding the red bombshell, deciding to pick your battles instead, and begrudgingly pull on the stupid shoes. Cheryl puckers her lips scanning your face but a look from Toni sends her stomping her way back into the car, Toni and you following behind. As you settle into the back seat, you fold your arms and stare out the window, wishing you could crawl back into bed right this minute. Stupid caring friends. Cheryl turns on the radio, drowning out the heavy silence with some upbeat tempo. 

     "Where are we going?" Toni reaches up to adjust her mirror till you can see the dazzling smile she sends your way, which you're sure she meant to be reassuring but actually worried you more.       "Well, Veronica's having a little get together at the speak easy so Cheryl and I thought it would be good to get you out and about. Betty and the rest of them will be there too!" You bristle a little at the thought of being around so many people so soon,  you feel like you're coming out of mourning. But you need to move on, you tell yourself, enough hiding away. You just nod, tongue too heavy to give any other reply, but also too heavy to ask your only question. An unspoken one that Toni can catch in the  glint of your eye.

      "No. He- he went out with Fangs tonight. Figured you two weren't ready to be around each other yet."

        You turn back to the window, fighting down a new wave of tears but Christ, you weren't sure if they were from relief of disappointment of his absence. You don't have time to ponder it though, you've arrived and Cheryl practically throws herself out of the car desperate to get to the soirée. You step out continuously tugging at your dress and Cheryl fusses with your hair before linking herself between you and Toni before strutting up to the packed venue. Cheryl pushes the three of you past the line of people, and you can't help but to giggle as Toni sends out apologies to the other jilted guests. You breathe a sigh of relief as you finally descend into the speakeasy, quickly staring in wonder at all the beautiful decorations. You don't know how long you stand with your mouth open but soon Cheryl's placing a drink into your hand and pushing you towards your group of friends to 'mingle.' 

    "Y/n, I've been so worried," Betty pauses during her skip towards you to glance back at her beanie wearing shadow who offers a soft smile and a nod," we've been worried." You gently squeeze her when you're drawn into her arms, trying to keep all your thoughts and emotions buried deep. You refuse to be anymore of a burden.

    "No need, I'm a big girl Betty. It's just a little high-school drama."  

    You pray she buys the smile that you plaster on your face, a timid one is returned though it doesn't dull the concern shining through her eyes. You need to get the attention off of you.

    "So where's V?" Betty looks at you for a - painstakingly long - moment more but then turns to point out the hardworking entrepreneur behind the 'bar.' Perfect.

    "I'm gonna grab a refill," you lift your empty glass, "want anything?" At her quick deny you scurry off before any other intervention of feelings come upon you. You've only been here for 5 minutes but you're already wanting to steal Toni's car to go home. No doubt the Cherry Bloodhound would catch you, but maybe some air would help just as much. Your legs move faster at the idea and soon you're pushing past some ignorant kids making out in the phone booth, flashing a small wave at Pop's before you're out the door. You face the building running your hands down your face and the brisk air filling your lungs. Finally alone.  

    "Y-Y/n," a wavers a voice from behind you.

    For fucks sake.

    The voice, his, sends shivers through your body but it looks as if you were shivering. You feel him walking closer, practically feeling his breath on your neck, but instead of his hands a jackets placed over your shoulders. You whip around, and Pea's eyes widen as he steps back, afraid he's crossed the line already. Your eyes asses over his figure, taking in the similar purple bags under his eyes that haunt your own. He's in nothing but a white t-shirt, his breath visible in the cold air. You move to return the jacket but he steps back again, shoving his hands in his pockets.

    "P-please, it's cold. I don't want you out here freezing. " You don't know what to say, the awkward silence causing you both to look down at your feet hoping maybe it would swallow you whole. 

    "Listen, I, uh, I promised Toni that I wouldn't show up here tonight. I- I was with Fangs but I, well," he stops to scratch the back of his neck, you blushing when you catch the slight show of skin as his shirt lifts. A surge of anger hits you, but more at yourself than him. Embarrassed at how much control he still has over your body but too bad it doesn't come out that way.

    "You couldn't just stay away, could you?" You push away the guilt that stabs you when he flinches, looking away,  at your brash tone.  Pea's eyes shine with unshed tears and bites his lip shaking his head. You can't stand it any longer. Your blood is roaring in your ears as you close the last the last few feet of distance and clutch the neckline of his shirt, dragging his face down to yours.

    "I swear I really fucking hate you." Then you mold your lips to his.

[missjackil]

A Dose of SPN Positivity!

For those who know me, they know I love this show.... flaws and all! im critical sometimes, but not overly. Bottom line, I am addicted to the story and Im in love with Sam and Dean.  With Season 14 about to start, and we’re all getting antsy, too much negativity has been flying around, so I want to share some things i love most about the show, and maybe make some of you reflect for a moment and think “Yeah, that is pretty great” and smile.  Supernatural has been referred to as “The Little Show That Could” and to me, its such a fitting description. Logically, on the surface, it looks like it just can’t. I mean, how can a fantasy/horror show, survive with such a low budget, light special effects, and not very scary most of the time. I mean hell, they dont even have that many monsters that look like monsters, so why has it lasted longer than a season or 2? Let alone, 14 seasons with no signs of stopping yet. First and foremost is obvious. Sam and Dean and the actors who play them.  This essay will be full of gushing about these boys, so if you dont feel like enduring such a hardship, scroll on past. if that interests you.....

Yes these 2 fabulous men are the life blood of this show. Without them, we’d have nothing. THEY are the reason, this little show can, and does. Even those who like one and not the other, even if they dont realize it, the one they prefer is who they are because of the other. Both of their qualities and flaws can be directly linked to their influence on each other. If for some reason the other was gone for good, the one left will change drastically. As we see when one is dead or in grave danger, albeit temporarily, the other changes. Sam is no longer sweet, laid back and practical, and Dean is no longer funny, charming, and nurturing.  In fact, they both seem to become an amplified version of their brother. When Sam dies, Dean gets quiet, sometimes too quiet. He also gets methodical and focused. You may get lucky and just get shot in the back, but if he chooses to speak, he chooses his words to let you know shits gonna hit the fan. “You have my brother, and you have one chance, just one, to hand him over, and if he isnt in one peice, when I find you, and I WILL find you, I will take you apart” Sam on the other hand is boiling over with emotion. My boy becomes savage. He doesnt always choose a lot of words to say, he gets his whole point across most of the time with “WHERES MY BROTHER???!!!!” This... my friends, is good stuff! These things couldnt be done with such beauty without Jared and Jensen. Their offscreen relationship, whatever it may be, is wonderful. Theres no denying the love and respect they have for each other. They are very supportive of each other, and help make the other better at their job. They’re not typical actors who have a work relationship but otherwise spend time with each other. They genuinely enjoy being together, and this shows on screen. When two people are this good at their jobs, and with each other, you just have to keep watching. Other things I love about the show, are kinda small. Some maybe youve never noticed, but maybe now you will and enjoy them too, like... Brains vs Brawn: At first glance, we all go Sam=brains, Dean=brawn right? But thats not actually the case. Dean is far from stupid, and Sam is nowheres near a wimp. Dean teases Sam about being a nerd, and Sam doesnt mind, he kinda wears his nerdiness like a badge of honor. Dean will never admit to being a nerd, but he is. He’s read Vonnegut, knows every old west cowboy statistic, and likes LARPing. Sam, though a bookworm, is one tough mofo. hes tall and muscular and has shown to be a little freakishly strong. He can also take a great deal of pain. And though Dean is known more to be the fighter, he can be very warm and nurturing. And nerdy Sam can make you shit your pants with just a look if you piss him off just right. I absolutely LOVE this balance!! Its one of my favorite things! Old school vs New; A lot has changed in 14 seasons. The brothers have grown, as well as the story, but their roots are never forgotten. They’re still driving around in the same car. Hell. Baby has become the 3rd lead! Even though they have mom back, they never forgot her, or dad, and both were spoken of often throughout the series. They refer back to old days often, so we can all get a feel of nostalgia when we remember too. Most episodes bring the deep past up in one way or another, I love this! Loss and Death: I know so many of us complain that they die and come back too much, but I have a real appreciation for it, The circumstances are always different, and so are the methonds of coming back. Sometimes the death isnt serious, or they dont “seem” dead, like in First Blood or Dark Side of the Moon, when there may have been an initial “wtf?” we got to see them in heaven, and in first blood, they came right back. However there was deep seriousness in All Hell Breaks Loose, No Rest for the Wicked,  Do You Believe in Miracles, Swan Song, Red Meat and Beat The Devil that you felt the dying brother’s physical pain, and then the emotional pain of the surviving brother.  No matter how many times they die, they still hit these types of episodes out of the park. WE may know theyre coming back, but they dont. it still crushes them and I love this! Sam and Dean’s Sexuality: I love that their sexual natures are different, but theyre both okay. Dean is sexually active, enjoys porn and vocalizes some fantasies, Though Sam can tease him a little, its just brotherly ribbing, its not judgemental or trying to make Dean feel bad. Sam isnt overly sexual, he’s gone many seasons without sex at all. He doesnt appear to enjoy porn, we know he doesnt like strip clubs, and its NOT because he’s unattractive!! Dean teases him but he doesnt try to make him feel bad. When he has heavily suggested that Sam get laid, its just because he wants him to have fun. Dean even said he appreciated that Sam wanted to stay pure and waited. Otherwise, its okay that Sam is (at least kinda) asexual. Neither are shunned or judged because of their sexuality. Winsync: This is one of the greatest things. if they didnt do this, we wouldnt care, we would never say “It would be a much better show if the brothers mirrored each other, or did the same thing at the same time” but for whatever reason, TPTB wanted this, and it works so well! Its an intimacy we can see without the show going OTT bromantic. Its the connection, the closeness, and being soulmates. I LOVE this! Soulmates and Brothers: Normally a show will make soulmates out of lovers. It’s not often they do it with siblings. It helps justify their deep love and devotion. It adds an additional layer to their relationship. It makes them so tied together that they will share eternity in heaven together, and not just in their memories. This was a very good decision made by Kripke and crew, so we will all know they cant live without each other, even if they just lived in different homes. I love this! Meta Madness: Though I dont like all the meta episodes, I do love the fact they can do them, and DO do them. Because the whole premise is the supernatural, nothing is impossible, even AUs and cartoon worlds. Sometimes I might roll my eyes, but its awesome to me that they can experiment this way and see how it goes. I Love this!! The Bros are Oblivious: Sam and Dean have been through basically everything, and have seen and done everything, yet they seem shocked when people say theyre famous, or when they heard people tell stories about them. Occasionally they grasp their importance, like when they tell people they save the world, but they were impressed that Asa fixed killed 5 Wendigo, and had an Angel Blade, and Father Luca met the Pope. I mean God hung out at the bunker and made them pancakes! Their Heads Dont Get Too Big: Every once in a while, TPTB make sure we, and the boys, remember that they are only human. Even if they lock away Satan, kill Death, save God’s life, they’re just men. Remember when Bobby died and Dean was sure he wouldnt because “its just one bullet!” ? I can see how it would seem so silly to Dean, and even to us, that someone who has lived through so much, could die from a stupid little bullet. I think that one of the smartest things the show has done in ages, was to have Sam tortured by Toni and friend. Sam was so bold and cocky (and need I say sexy?) telling Toni he’d been tortured by the devil himself, and what could she do to him... He soon learned Hell torture or not,  cold showers still suck, blow torches to the feet still hurt like hell, and a mortal human can still fuck with his head. And Dean, well he can still be put on the injured reserve list from a jacked up leg. IMO S12 was great for re-humanizing the Winchesters. I love this! Comedy to Tragedy: Some of the best episodes, started out funny and ended in a tear jerker. Mystery Spot, Just My Imagination, and Beat The Devil top my list. I love the emotional rollar coaster, Coming away exhausted from an episode is the bestthing I can ask for! They havent tried it the other way around, tragedy to comedy, and thats good. If you are crying at the beginning and laughing later, it doesnt justify the grief and you may feel let down and hollow after. SPN is great with having some humor in even the most depressing episodes, but they know when using it and leaving it out is best. I love this! Brohugs: My #1 favorite thing, aside from the hug in 6.1, they have all been beautiful. Not once, have the boys lost the love, or even repeated the same hug. Each one conveys a different message, a different emotion, but all say “I love you more than everything” and I wont ever get tired of them! I would do anything for a single hug in my whole life that had such love in it, as any Winchester bro hug! I.LOVE.THIS!! Now I hope if you read this far, you got to smile a few times, and a spark was added to the fire that you fell in love with 14 seasons ago. Here’s to S14, i hope its filled with all of these wonderful things!

[constant-writers-block-blog]

Stetson Labs- Chapter 1 A Girl With No Name And A Tail

A/N: If you have read the previous “Chapter 1″ Releases, begin reading BELOW the line. If you are wondering what keeps happening to me and why I have been ducking in and out of writing, visit my page and read my post. Feel free to comment and give feed back.

WARNINGS: Mild Language

Disclaimer: I do NOT own any supernatural characters, I only have the OC “Winter”.

It still haunts me. The smell, the touch. I'll never be able to forget it. It's sad really, that I cannot move past it all. How can I? Every time I look in the mirror, I see a monster created at the hands of a devil. These...'improvements' as he called them, are always here to remind me that I should be dead. I guess I'll start at the beginning. I ran. Harder than I’ve ever ran before. My sensitive ears were on fire with the amount of noise that was happening around me. Screaming, gunshots, the sound of blood and bodies hitting the ground. I covered my delicate ears. This was too much. Someone, or something, was massacring the people here.

Strangely enough, that was okay with me. The people here were horrible, soulless monsters that mutilated and mutated me. I only worried for my own life, to hell with theirs. My bare feet became sore from slapping the concrete, I knew I couldn’t run much further. I kept checking door after door, praying to whatever god there is that there is one that is unlocked. And one of them finally answered. The final door on my left was unlocked, it was a simple storage room, but to me it was a small sanctuary. I closed the door quietly and let my back hit the wall. Sliding down, I curled myself into a ball, holding my knees and curling my tail around my feet. Not once did I take my eyes of the little slit of light from the bottom of my door. A distant thumping was growing louder, it sounded like a pair of booted feet. I squeezed my legs closer and waited listening. With my heightened hearing, I would be able to pick the best moment to spring from my small room and start to run again. The thumping was louder, it must be only a few doors down now.

“Damnit! Lost it.” A gruff voice said. There was a faint beeping, a cell phone? “Sammy, come down the hall, I lost one of them and need your help, too many doors to check alone” He paused for a bit then seemed to hang up. He started with the door on the right, across from mine. I uncurled myself and readied for running. I watched as a shadow interrupted the line of light under the door, and flicked my ears to listen to the door knob turn. Once I heard the faint click of the latch releasing from the doorframe, I ran full force into the door, knocking it open and into the person attempting to open it. I got a glance at the man I was running from. He was tall, bigger than the men in masks were and had short hair. That’s all I could make out before I took off down the hall, heading back in the direction from which I came. I looked over my shoulder to see if the man was following, he was, but at a great distance. I grinned, I can outrun him easily.   But looking back was a mistake. I ran into what felt like a brick wall and fell flat on my ass. I landed on my tail wrong and let out a shout. When I looked up, I saw an even taller man in front of me. He had longer, brown hair.

“Oh thank God, took you long enough!” the shorter man said, out of breath and finally caught up. Damn. I was cornered.

“Hey, you’re alright, we won’t hurt you.” The taller man said, stooping down to my eye level. I laid my ears back and showed my teeth, a common action I made when threatened. I let out a low growl, like my instincts had taught me. The taller man stepped back and put his hands up as a gesture of surrender. I never broke eye contact with the taller man standing in my way. I was waiting. “Take it easy, we aren’t going to do anything to you.” The smaller one said now that he finally caught his breath.

“Dean, what should we do? We knew they were doing experiments, but we didn’t know they were doing them on kids.” He broke eye contact with me to look at the other man called Dean. That’s the moment I broke into a sprint once again. “DAMNIT!” one of them shouted. They gave chase. “Cas! We could use your help here!” Dean shouted. There was a faint flapping sound, and my wrist was taken hold of. I was whipped around and was facing my restraint, a man in a tan coat with brown hair, and a tie. He looked confused, but continued to hold onto me. I fought with tooth and nail, but the man didn’t react. I laid my ears back again and growled, but the grip on my wrist didn’t change. “Thanks Cas, I don’t think I could handle more running.” Dean said catching up.

“Sure, but what exactly is this? It looks like a partially transformed werewolf, but I sense that it is indeed human.” Cas said, looking at me with curious eyes.

“We think she is one of the experiments here.” The tall man said.

“Yeah, Sam did his research, the people here used this place as a lab to mess with the genetic make-up of things, we just didn’t know that they had moved onto human trails already.”  

While they were so leisurely chatting, I was attacking the man holding me. I bit, clawed, and hit everything I could reach, but he was unfazed. Tears began to sting my eyes, I was scared. I didn’t want to go back to the room, I didn’t want these men to take me to wherever they were going to. I wanted to go back to the storage room and sit in the dark. I wanted to get away. The tears began streaming from my eyes and I couldn’t help but sob as I became tired and weakly punched the man’s hand. Sam finally took notice, “What should we do with here, she obviously won��t come quietly.”

“I can make her unconscious for now.” Cas said looking at me. I was throwing too much of a fit to notice.

“That seems to be the best option.” Dean agreed. Cas’ hand enveloped my forehead, and things faded to black.

_______________________________________________________________________

Everything was hazy. My head felt heavy, and my eyelids even heavier. I tried to take a deep breath but it felt like cinder blocks were on my chest. I heard muffled speaking, the voices were vaguely familiar. Attempting to move proved pointless. It was like my brain wasn’t properly connected to my nerves, nothing was responding.

Finally the talking stopped and a hand grasped my head. All of the haze and weight was gone and I gasped for air as my eyes shot open. I was on a couch. I tried to sit up, But the man has yet to let go of my head. “Cas, she’s fine. Let her up” Sam said. The man called Cas hesitated, but let me go. I sat up and curled into a ball, eyeing the three tall men around me. One, who I think was called Dean, had his arms crossed, looking at me like I killed his dog. The taller man, Sam, was next to him, leaning on the table and smiling slightly at me. I didn’t like that much. Finally the man who let me go was Cas. He was standing beside the couch, scowling.

“What’s your name?” Sam asked, still smiling. I looked down and didn’t answer. Even if I remembered my name, I wouldn’t tell any of them. “Hey, we saved your ass back there, so if I were you, I’d answer the damn question.” Dean took a step closer, arms still crossed. The hostility in his voice made me growl and tighten my tail round my feet. Cas visibly braced, read to take me down if needed. “Dean, Cas. Calm down. This isn’t the way to approach her. We don’t know what she has been through.”

“Yeah, and we don’t know whose side she’s on either Sammy. For all we know, she is part of the plan.” Dean turned to argue.

“I believe Sam is right. I sense nothing-” before Cas could finish the sentence, I sprang off of my cushy cell and tried to run for a door, any door. Cas was faster, he grabbed the back of my shirt and tossed my down to the floor, causing my dog tags to fall around my neck and out of my shirt. “No, Sit. Stay.”

“Wait what’s that?” Dean pointed to my tags. “Maybe it has her name on it? Or some kind of ID at least” Sam took a slow step to me and crouched down to my level on the ground. “Can I see them? I won’t hurt you. We just want to help.” I laid my ears back but complied. I didn’t truly feel like I was in any danger. Sam took my tag and flipped it over so he could read it.

“W-1-N-7-3-R” he read to the others. “That’s it? Well that wasn’t much help.” Dean said, throwing his hands up.

“What if we call her Winter?” Cas piped in.

“What? The hell did that come from?” Dean questioned.

“Her tag number. Looks like the word Winter.”

“Wait it does!” Sam said with excitement.

“Fine, whatever. Winter it is then. Now, Winter, can you even talk?”

I continued my wall of silence. It’s not that I couldn’t speak, I just saw no point in it. I didn’t trust them yet, so why release any information? What if I get away but they somehow find me again because of something I accidentally gave them? Who knows what abilities the man in the trench coat had? It was my safety blanket. I turned away from Dean and Sam and fixed my hazel eyes onto the ceiling. What could they do? I’ve been through it all.

“Okay, maybe she can’t? But she seems to understand us well, maybe thats enough.” Sam tried to suggest.

“This is stupid.” Dean huffed and walked away, “You wanted to take her home Sammy, she is your puppy now.” Dean walked into another room. Sam glared in his direction and smiled back at me.

“I really wont hurt you. Are you hungry? How about some food or water?” I didn’t admit to anything but when he mentioned food my stomach ratted me out by letting a long growl escape. I blushed and bit my lip. Sam smirked and walked away to the same room that Dean walked into. I remained on the ground but I sat up. Cas nodded awkwardly at me when I made eye contact with him. “I’m just gonna.... Go check on them.” He disappeared before my eyes. I blinked but it didn’t seem to be an illusion, he really was gone. Glancing at my surroundings, I noticed books lined the walls. I perked up a bit. I loved books. Maybe these people would let me read some if I acted nicely. Thats how it was back in the White Room, I was a ‘good little beast’ and they gave me a book to read. Mostly books that were complex and full of words I didn’t understand but I relished the opportunity to actually learn something.

“Oh, do you like to read, Winter?” I was so focused on the shelves that I didn’t notice Sam coming back into the room. He was carrying a plate with a sandwich and a glass of water. “Well you are welcome to read anytime. Here, I made something for you.” He smiled and set the food down on a long wooden table in the center of the room. I didn’t move. I was hungry, but I still was unsure of everything. Sam must have noticed me being hesitant and he turned away and selected a book from the shelf. He sat at a nearby chair and began to read. I crawled on hands and feet over to the plate. Sniffing the table and chair before sitting down, I pulled the chair out slowly. I didn’t sit, I crouched on the chair. The smell of the fresh food wafted up to my nose and I began to drool. Without any further thought, I wolfed down the food and chugged the water. When the plate was crumb free an my glass dry, I stepped off the chair and began to wonder around. The library seemed to go on forever. I glanced up and say that the shelves nearly hit the ceiling. I grinned, so much to learn. I heard a chuckle and turned my ear to the source of the sound. It was Sam. He was pretending to read and was simply keeping an eye on me. I let my ear relax, I was used to being watched, so it made no difference to me. As I was about to reach for a book, Dean and Cas reentered the room. “Should we really let her read those things? For all we know, she could just be working for them and be trying to get our secrets.” Dean stated bluntly.

“I really don’t think Winter is bad. I don’t sense any ill-will from her.” Cas chimed in.

“Dean, come on. She is a kid. She has a tail and ears that were obviously surgically put onto her body and are now functional. You think she did that willingly? From the documents we found, they kidnapped potential subjects. She is probably just some lost kid who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Sam’s eyes were soft and reassuring to me. Dean shrugged, “Time will tell I guess” He sauntered off down the hall, “I’m heading to bed.”

“I’m going to go see if I can go get the files from that facility, maybe it will tell us more.” Cas said, and before anyone could breathe another word, he vanished again.

“Well, I guess it’s time for you to go to sleep too huh? It’s been a crazy night for all of us.” Sam got up and walked down the hall, then he stopped and turned, “you coming? I’ll show you your room.” I let my ears perk up. I haven’t slept in a bed for a decade now.

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[the-art-of-suffering]

Cherish Chpt 1

The drizzle of the day slowly warped into a downpour, sending people scurrying under eaves and over hangs or shuffling stiffly under their umbrellas, eager to find holes to hide in. Chernobyl was no exception to the rule. Pulling his backpack to his chest, hunched over it like an old man he half jogged, half shuffled across the street, eagerly pressing into the Coffee house, and sighing as the central heating engulfed him. Trying to draw as little attention as a drowned rat can, he sidles himself to the back wall and plops into a seat. Hoping against hope he rummages about in the bag, pulls out an older model smart phone (sans a case), and sighs in relief as he begins texting passively while he eyes the rest of the shop, this might be a solid place to camp for a while, dry his bones, and if it ain't too pricey, grab a bite. He had little to his name, but probably enough for something warm. Ace didn't exactly dislike his work here, but it was nowhere near as lively as his work at Wonderland- the club just down the street. He really didn't like people, and he certainly didn't like talking to them. Ironic for a barista. He, as many others, had that usual 'can you order for me?' anxiety, but working at the coffee shop was helping. Not that it was the reason why he was there, but it was a bonus. Still, he much more enjoyed the comfort of his phone. While he didn't do anything of interest on it, he did use it as a bit of a social escape, even when working at the counter. He'd put it away if someone wanted to order of course, but he still fled away to its safety throughout the day. Which was what he was doing when Chernobyl slipped into the shop. Ace looked up from his phone, brows raising slightly. After a moment of contemplation he slipped his phone into his pocket and leaned forward against the counter, calling over to him. He didn't have to speak too loud, considering it wasn't loud nor crowded there. A fairly peaceful environment, really. The most peace he ever found. "Heya," Ace blinked at Chernobyl, head tipped slightly. He offered a weak sort of smile, one that looked a bit sympathetic "Escapin’ the rain, huh?" There was a brief moment of lag, Chernobyl ignored the voice that chimed through the cozy buzzing background noise; people didn't usually go out of their way to chat him up. All the same the gears worked around the concept in his head and finally clicked the realization into place, and he lifted his head. His eyes danced over the scenery briefly until he noticed the male behind the counter, his smile, and his soft countenance. Chernobyl quickly, sloppily brushed his hair from his face, even as it stuck and matted to his skin from the damp and gave a nervous smile that showed too much teeth and looked queazy at best. He wasn’t necessarily an ugly fellow, but he was unkept, scrawny, built lanky and underfed. His hair was damaged and utterly fried, dyed too many colors over and over. Currently it was a multi-hued mess; mostly a pale mossy green, but with strips of violet, bits of blue, and longer than he used to keep it. It fell down to his shoulders, just a bit passed them and long enough to always be in his eyes. Peeking up out of the mess of his hair sat two dingy grey canid ears. Well. One and a half really. The top half of his left ear was just...gone. Behind him a matching tail, shaggy and matted fur, but very wolfish, just like the rest of him, right down to the intensity of his bright blue eyes.  Briefly he broke his gaze, just to give one final sweeping glance to assure that, yes, the Barista, or what ever, was in fact speaking to him. Satisfied that it must be so, he swallowed hard and gave a wavering laugh. His voice came out rough, starting as a near whisper, clearly nervous, but steadied out by the end of his sentence "Oh, yeah, it really just hits outta nowheres sometimes, and if yer in it, yikes, ya know?" Ace grinned, looking relieved his words had not only been acknowledged, but replied to. His ‘devil-like’ tail swished a bit behind him in satisfaction- something people usually assumed was fake, along with the horns. He went with it. He did have a bit of a unique look to him though; his skin was pale, freckled across his nose and around his eyes, which were an aqua green sort of color. Around his eyes his skin was a bit darkened, he was probably lacking a solid week of sleep. Just cause. At least his hair was nice; it was messy but a nice deep red, and fairly soft to the touch. He also had two thin, darkened lines down either side of his neck, but the collar of his jacket mostly hid those. Forced to wear the usual apron for the shop, he still wore his usual outfit beneath- just a simple jacket and some skinny jeans. And some high-tops. He was fairly short without them. Ace drummed his nails along the counter with a hum and a nod "For sure." He gestured up at the hanging menus "You don't have to like, buy anything.. but you totally can. That's sorta, why we're here." His brows raised and he offered another hopeful grin at him. While he wasn't a particularly impressive salesman, he was honest and simply just trying to make sure he had something to do. Before Chernobyl could even answer, he added on another quick comment "Your hair is awesome, by the way." As he sat listening, he eyed the hanging menus and half hearted had nodded along. Yeah he could definitely order something, the whole shop was swimming in the rich aromas of cocoas and coffees and he couldn’t deny that a warm drink sounded nice. Especially on a day like this. But then that compliment hit him and his face took on a pink hue, and his expression stiffened. Compliments, even simple ones didn't really.... happen to him. You see, unlike Ace, Chernobyl wasn't well kept, or straightened up. His jeans clung to his boney hips awkwardly, as though they were tempted to slide right off any moment. Sure they seemed to be tight enough, but they weren’t quite long enough in the in-seem, perhaps. They could be riding up at the ankles too, but the ends of them vanished behind the muddy army surplus boots that tied loosely up his shins; mismatched laces and all. The only part of his outfit that seems to actually fit him was his crop top. Black, hanging off one shoulder, and emblazoned with a faded band logo. In an awkward, nervous sort of way he pulled his lip ring into his mouth and sucked on it for a moment as he attempted to formulate a reply. Finally after another nervous laugh, he swayed himself to stand and shuffled up a bit closer to the counter, his hands beginning to fidget. "Uh uhm, Thanks man, yers too. Uh hair, Yer hairs a great color." He chewed at his lip again for just a moment, then blurted out "Uh could i get a..a chai latte? Oh shi, uhm Vanilla chai...latte?" Ace smiled, laughing a bit at the hair comment nodding "For sure. And thanks!" He turned, starting to make the drink for him. On one hand, he wondered if this guy really was just.. utterly poor and genuinely in bad shape. On the other, he didn't want to be rude or intrusive. He usually was, but he was trying not to be. He spoke some more as he made the drink, mostly to fill an inevitably awkward silence "So you don't like the rain, huh? I have a couple friends who love it, but god damn.. I'll pass."  Something in the way Ace spoke, or maybe just the way the coffee shop was like a port in the storm, seemed to put Chernobyl a bit as ease, he dug around in his back pocket, issuing forth a few folded bills. As he craned his neck down, counting the stray cash, a small smile slowly eased across his face, and a smoother, far less nervous laugh tumbled out of him. "Nahhh. I'm not big on the rain. It smells nice by itself, but buddy, you have no idea how hard it is to get the wet dog smell outta stuff." his shoulders bounced a bit at his own little joke, and for the first time since he had bolted into the building, his own tail untucked itself and gave a gentle wag. Ace finished the drink and spun around about as quick as he could without spilling it. He set it onto the counter and leaned forward on his elbows, watching Chernobyl intently "So tell me about that." He said, "Cause thats all totally real, right," he paused for a moment, adding on "Four fifty by the way." His own thin, black tail swished from one side to the other, his head just slightly tipped in curiosity. While any super natural wasn't exactly unheard of, it wasn't quite common, either. Well, it was for Ace, in a way, that was just sort of the crowd he hung with. With a perk of his one good ear, Chernobyl doled out a wrinkled fiver, sliding it across the counter. He gave a bit of a shrug as he dropped a couple beyond crumpled ones into the tip jar. "Dunno what all to tell ya. Guess I was just born this way. None too many of us left up this way I guess. Seen more vamps, than dogs truthful." he seemed almost wistful as he spoke, a soft sort of sadness slipping in underneath the over casual way his words tumbled out. He grinned, carefully took the chai in both hands and felt the warmth of it ebb into his fingers and palms. He did lift his eyes again after a moment, a subtle quirk to his eyebrows. " You though. Ain't really sure I’ve ever seen one like you before. Maybe I just ain't been lookin’ too hard."  He seemed relatively relaxed, encountering a supernatural of unknown ilk. Maybe he just didn’t think anything working as a barista could be that deadly, maybe he just lacked a sense of self preservation. Maybe he just didn't care. Which ever the case, He took a sip of his drink, winced at the heat, and began to blow on it a little. Ace took the five and pushed back two quarters in return. He nodded, shrugging to himself "Me neither, not really. What goes on with you though? I mean," he reached a hand out "Are your ears more sensitive and stuff? Can you change fully?" He would have apologized for being so nosy but honestly, he didn't care anymore. Maybe he would have a couple years ago but he'd just given up. The sheer matter of factness in this guy's questions really threw Chern for a loop. He gave a crooked grin and pocketed the quarters as he coughed out a laugh that was more air than voice. There was a brief pause, long enough for him to take another sip of his drink, before he shrugged and decided that, really, what harm could it do? As he set the drink down he adjusted his hips and leaned against the wall of the counter a bit as he spoke. " Well, I used to have pretty good hearing, not as much now, least on this side." He was becoming a more and more animated speaker, clearly more relaxed. His shoulders bounced a bit as he flicked at the base of his left ear. The ear seemed like it had been a clean cut, but the fur grew ragged around the scar tissue. He didn’t seem to be too bothered by it though, easily moving on in the conversation. "As for turnin’, yeah it's possible, takes effort and energy though. And it ain’t bout the moon at all.  Just adrenaline an willpower. Sometimes fear'll do it too, those ain’t fun though, ya ain’t got any control." He shifted again, checking the room, maybe a bit worried about eaves droppers, but continued never the less. "What about you? Demon? Fae? I've heard of some changling folk what can't quite get the glamour down to look fully human." Ace hummed, chin resting on his hands "Mmm, yeah somethin’ like that.." he bit his lip, perhaps a bit more seductively than intended. Or maybe exactly so. His eyes lidded slightly, green eyes focusing on Cher "But if I told ya, you might think I'll put a spell on you. Might make things weird, y’know?" He giggled slightly, shrugging as he sat back, arms crossing casually. "What happened to your ear? Now I'm curious.." The boy shifted his weight onto his hip, gaze still locked intently on the male before him. Beyond just having fairly pretty eyes, despite the tired look, there was something about the way he looked at someone that was almost.. tempting. While his words were casual, his aura was a bit more alluring. Not too noticeably so, at least at the moment. He wasn't really trying. Cher bit at his lip again, trying not to smile. He wasn't usually this chatty. He took a sip of his drink to try and hide just how wide the smile wanted to be. He liked talkin’ to this guy. And yet... It was a strange cocktail mixing up in his guts. He felt a strange charisma drawing him in, but it set off his trigger happy paranoia as well. A little voice in the farthest corner of him mind seemed to whisper a warning that, that pretty face, that smooth voice, that everything about this man and the silky way he moved... was the cleverly arranged bait on a trap. He laughed again, but there was almost an underlying bit of a whine to it. He was enjoying himself far, far too much, and talking far too openly. If there was anything that he had learned growing up homeless, it was that usually honeyed words lead to stings, or worse. He was always shit at staying outta trouble though. So he ignored the red flags, and swallowed down the want to step backwards and instead, leaned inward, resting his elbows on the counter. Nothing ventured, nothing gained... right?  "Look, now... If I told ya, you would prolly think bad of me and lets face it, I gotta work hard enough to make a good first impression. " Ace practically purred at this, watching him for a few moments longer. He stood back with a somewhat satisfied sway of his hips, his tail following rhythmically. "Tell ya what," Ace said, tapping his fingertips across the counter, a smug smile taking his lips "My shift ends within the hour. You can make your good impression today, and by the time you leave, I bet I'll get that story.. mm? How's that sound?" He pressed his hands against the edge of the counter, leaning in once more. He looked hopeful, almost innocently so. After all, his curiosity was genuine. If more were to come, whatever that may imply, then so be it. Ace was quite used to the unexpected, he knew full well that nothing was ever simple as it was intended. Maybe, even, he enjoyed it. Perhaps that's why nothing was ever so simple for him. He always had been the root of his own troubles. For just a brief moment, Cher was smiling, wholesome, and his eyes seemed filled with the light of a giddy satisfaction. This was an unexpected surprise. He grinned, ear to ear, and had a light honey-glow. It's not everyday someone seems so interested. All those red flags vanished under the rose colored glasses of a childish sort of infatuation. That voice in the shadows inside him tried to tell him this was a bad idea, tried to warn him that when something looks too good to be true... it is. It always is. But Cher just shoved it away, like he always did. What's the worst that could happen? This silken man before him, with his movements, like liquid gold, would probably eat him alive, but what did he care? He figured nothing this guy could do to him would be worse than what's already been done. So he let the honey glow, and he let his smile light his face and his tail wagged just a bit harder than normal. "I can't think of anything I'd rather be doing, so sure, I'll take that bet. My plans were kinda cancelled by the rain anyway...so I uh, I'd like that." Oh, the way he spoke almost sounded genuine. In spite of himself, he hoped for something different. How naive a silly, stupid 24 year old could be. He hoped like this every single time. Ace snapped his fingers and crossed his arms, mirroring the wide grin. "Awesome." He glanced to the clock, then turned his attention right back to Chernobyl "So good and bad news, then," his fingers tapped thoughtfully against his bicep "Bad news is it's raining still, and unless we're gonna hang around here, we gotta go out in it. Good news, I don't live too far. We could hide in a street shop or kick it at my place," he rocked on his heels, looking just a bit awkward. He sounded it too, as a slightly unsure laugh left him "Not that my place is.. any nicer than anywhere else 'round here." In fact Ace's apartment didn't even have heating. And his fridge had been.. stolen? It was lacking a fair amount, but he had made it his home and it was good enough for him. Cheap, too. Things were evolving quickly, but Cher was pretty used to that. After all, how else do things like one night stands and 'business transactions' go? It's an in and an out. Two people get what they want, goods and services are exchanged, and then the people become strangers again. That's just how people worked and Cher had no inclination to assume any different from this new person. But Cher had to wonder... what could this guy think Cher could offer him. His childish heart mused it could be attraction, but he had to quiet those hopes and look at it logically. Maybe the barista thought he was carrying? Maybe he thought Cher could cut him a good deal if he flirted? And he wouldn’t be wrong, Cher was easily swayed. As he mulled the possibilities over he stared out the door, watching it pour, sheets of hard, cold water howling down at the concrete streets. His voice seemed a little distant as he spoke " Well, there's a record shop down the road, and I think that fifties diner burger shop whatever stays open pretty late... but we can hit up your place if... that’s more your thing?" He probably wasn’t being as subtle as he thought he was, but he wanted to legit get a gauge of where Ace's head was, maybe a hint at his intentions, because, while Cher had no intention of backing out, he did kinda wanna know how deep the water was he was jumping into. Ace hummed, head tipping as he thought. "Mmm... how about.." he shifted his weight onto his other him, tail swaying "Let's hit my place for a bit, and since the burger joint is open late, we'll go later. I love that night life." While this was true, it wasn't because he found the lights pretty. It may have been partially that, but a large portion of it was the adrenaline. He lived in a sketchy part of town and shady shit happened, all the time. He was no stranger to this. The fear fueled him, he loved every second of the nightlife. Between joyrides on his motorcycle in speeds far too high, and playing games he should never play with gangs he should have never met, he always found himself in less than favorable situations. And even still, he always found a way out, more or less. Well, there was his answer. Private places out of the light, away from peeping and prying eyes. This might be a fun night after all. Absently Cher wondered, could this guy be a murderer? Aren’t serial killers usually charismatic and shit? He laughed a bit and looked back at  Ace with that thought in mind. Well he was definitely charismatic...Cher bet he probably lifted is some swanky hipster artist loft and everything. He slowly meandered back over to the booth where his bag was. He knew he was holding, but wasn't sure how much was left, so he kinda wanted to take inventory, ruffling lightly through the main pouch as he spoke over his shoulder. "How romantic, taking me home to meet the parents already? You must really like me." It was spoken lightly and clearly in jest, but he was also prodding for a bit of information, seeing what he could get Ace to reveal about himself and his intentions. Ace laughed lightly at this, casually checking his phone as Cher stepped away. He was the type to always have to check it every few minutes, but the only reason was purely a momentary anxious escape. "No parents, just a dog." He said simply, carelessly eying over any notifications he had received. "And a raccoon. Lil baby one, he's livin’ in my closet right now." Ace said this casually, but he soon paused, as though actually remembering he had a raccoon at his house. A grin stretched across his face as he looked back to Cher "Holy fuck I love raccoons.. I found this guy crawlin’ around outside of," his voice gave the slightest pause- work? Night job? Club? Wonderland? He finally settled with one, as quick and casually as he could manage. Didn't want to weird this guy out too soon. "Work, and he was all dirty and ugly and alone so I took him home. Been takin care of him ever since." Clearly along the way of the conversation Ace had gotten genuinely distracted. No escape mechanism, no subtle diversion. He was simply honestly excited about his new pet. There was this momentary pause where Cher just sorta stared  off into space, a confused, almost dumbfounded expression. This guy couldn’t be seriou- oh.. he...he was. A raccoon.  Cher tilted his head, a crooked smile on his face, that something along the lines of 'wow you dork'. With a slight clearing of his throat he sat down next to his bag and closed it, giving a little nod. "Nice a uh, raccoon, huh? That’s cool. I once lived with this ma possum and her little babies, pretty cute. Never really been up close with a raccoon though. Is he hard to care for?" Ace nearly slammed his hands against the counter, eyes wide. It likely drew some stares, if the few patrons weren't already staring. "Shit! I love possums too!" He reached his hands out, fingers wiggling "Like they both have the little grabby hands y’know?" After another moment of his demonstration he collected himself enough to answer. "And not really, they eat literally anything so I get him some grapes or crackers or cat or dog food. Y’know, basically whatever." Dang. This guy. This guy was cute. Cher hated himself for thinking that. He hated that he felt anything even close to that kinda sappy shit, but he still couldn’t help that his heart made a little bit of a 'doki doki'. His smile softened, and he just kinds tilted his head endearingly. "Yeah? That’s cool. I bet he's real happy to have someone caring for him. How's the dog mind the lil' guy? And uh, what kinda dog? Sometimes the big ones don't like me too much. Guess they think I'm competition or somethin’ heheh." Ace chuckled at this, giving a brief lift of his shoulders "She's a Doberman but she's nice. I'm sure she'll love you. She's trained really well so even if she doesn't for whatever reason, she won't bite or anything. As long as you don't stab me or some shit, she'll just lay around." He hummed, one brow lifting slightly. He said this as honest information, but perhaps also a subtle warning in case Cher had any tricks up his sleeve. After all, Ace had taken plenty of people home. While the action in itself may have been foolish, he wasn't stupid. He knew how quickly things could go south. Not that he usually tried to stop it, though. "And yeah, she actually really likes him. She's really gentle,  I think she thinks he's a puppy or something.. she'll clean him and carry him to his closet if he gets out, thank god cause I can't keep track of him all the time. Lil brat.." he spoke with a happy fondness in his tone though. He was just so happy to have a raccoon. Cher lifted his brows in surprise. Somehow, doberman just fit. This guy looked like he would have a doberman. But also like he sound have like, maybe a Pomeranian or something. Guess thats where the raccoon came in. He nodded a bit, thoughtful as he lifted his gaze to the ceiling. "Doberman huh? Nice. Smart dogs." Then Suddenly, a thought. "Oh, I just realized, I'm going home with ya but I don’t think we ever did the whole... intro thing. We could do the name swaps and shit, if thats your thing? Or I guess we could leave an air of mystery to our late night rendezvous." Ace couldn't help but laugh at this "Fuck you're right, oh my god.." he laughed again, shaking his head, grinning once more "Im Ace. Clearly not an ace at introductions.." he then gave a very dead inside expression and a drained, 'kill me' sort of laugh. The haha... ha... I'm so.. funny.. kill me. "Oh my God. Did you...Did you really..." His ears wilted to the sides, his face twisted in a sick sort of delight. This guy really did it, he really went for that pun. Amazing. He took a sharp inhale and drummed his fingers on the table. "Wowww. Mad, mad props for just jumping right off that cliff. I'm Chernobyl. But ya can use Cher, Cherno, Shithead, what ever pulls yer trigger, Ace." Ace's brows raised, his grin turning into a bit of a smirk "Pulls your trigger, huh? Never heard that. More of eh, whatever tickles your peach. Maybe that's just me though." He shrugged, hands shifting into his pockets "Chernobyl. I like that. Never met a Chernobyl before. Pretty fancy, eh?" Cher waved his hands about a bit as he spoke casually, with a little bit of a toothy grin. "Pulls yer trigger, pops yer cherry, threads yer needle... ya know..heheh..." The laugh sort of subsided and ended with a sigh and a little shrug. "I dunno about fancy. But it's the only one I got, and I guess I kinda earned it... but I do get laughed at once in a while for it." Ace tipped his head at this "Really? I like it. I think it's cool." He glanced to the clock again, huffing out a breath "Fifteen then I'm free." He glanced around, lips pursing "I could literally just leave.." Ace nodded to himself, pulling his phone out. He sent out a text, pulling off his apron with his other hand "Fuck it. Let's get outta here." He said, kicking the apron under one of the shelves. He'd find it again later, he always did. He quite literally hopped over the counter, straightening out his hoodie a bit. Now no longer behind the counter, one could see he was actually fairly lean, though most of his muscle was hidden away beneath his baggy sweatshirt. He was fairly small, really, despite his attempt at gaining a couple inches in his shoes. His tail was probably longer than as he was, if it ever straightened out. Though usually it swayed or swished back and forth, and towards the end it had a kink in it, causing it to jut out to one side a bit before returning to its normal snake-like sway. Eagerly, Cher stood and hefted his bag over his shoulder. He was excited. It had been a while since something ...else... something like this made his blood race and his entire body tremble just a little bit. He moved to follow Ace, almost submissively. He was a follower, it's what he knew, he was just a dog after all.  Absent minded-like he began chewing at his labret as he watched that serpentine tail. Was he really following this guy into a den of vipers? And why was he so excited thinking about that?  " So uh, h-how far is it to yer place? Do we need to uh c-call a cab or anythin’?" Ace waved a hand, stopping at the door "Nah, it's close. We just gotta deal with the rain." He pulled his hood up, which was just barely big enough to fit over his horns, "It's walking distance. But we're gonna walk fast, cause I hate the rain. Sound good?" He looked from the windows and the rain they sealed off, to Chernobyl, brows lifting. Cher gave another one of those dumb toothy grins and nodded. "Ya don't gotta tell me twice, I'll be right behind ya all the way. I'm not about that standing in the rain and catchin’ my breath B.S. So lead the way Maestro."  His tail tucked up close to his butt, and his ears were pinned back, but otherwise he ready to bolt. "Aight, sick." Ace pushed open one of the doors, peering around to see if there was any cover he could retreat to. Fortunately, just down the sidewalk, there was an overhang from one of the nearby buildings that could provide shelter, at least for part of the way. And that was his  target. The downpour was heavy and grey, threatening to soak any who dare linger in the open for any more than a second. But Ace seemed to have it figured out. "Cmon, let's go."