#if you find yourself thinking 'wow these people still act like this is high school' find out which behaviors it is that make you think that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pan-fangirl-345 · 4 years ago

Text

Promise Me You Won't Fall In Love

Summary: You and Tsukishima have been friends since you were kids, and you made a promise not to fall in love with each other. But of course, everything's fine and great until someone (both of you) fucked up and caught feelings.

TW: swearing, mutual pining, unrequited love (it is requited later), minor harassment (not a lot), and there is some derogatory talk from an extra that doesn't even have a name (Kei puts him in his place, I promise).

A/N: So this wasn't requested, but I've been thinking about this one a lot recently and I wanted to do something with it, hence this.

Note: Anything in italics is a memory! Well, not all of it, but the longer sections. Most of the time the one or two word-er things are simply emphasized, that kind of thing.

"Tsukishima, your girlfriend's here to see you!" Sugawara told the middle blocker, and he turned to see you leaning against the wall near Yachi and Kiyoko, laughing at something they were saying to you.

"She's not my girlfriend," Kei muttered, walking over.

"Kei! I knew you'd be here," you said, digging through your bag. "One of the girls in my class wanted me to give this to you."

You handed him a bright pink envelope with black sparkly writing on the front, his name scrawled in almost perfect handwriting.

"Another love letter?" he asked, taking it.

"Probably, I've stopped asking. It makes them think that we're together," you told him, crossing your arms.

Kei sighed, opening the letter with little fanfare.

He scanned through it quickly, rolling his eyes.

One thing he had noticed was that the letters he had been getting were really sucky poetry and fancy words. They knew nothing about him worthwhile and he was pretty sure they just wanted to check off the 'I have a boyfriend' box on their high school checklists.

Kei made a noise of disgust and walked over to the nearest trash can, dumping the letter in.

"I'm assuming that's another no?" you asked, smirking at him, already knowing the answer.

He nodded, ignoring the smirk on your face.

You, Tadashi, and Kei had all been friends since middle school. Kei had known you longer, since you lived in the same neighborhood, but you had kind of adopted Tadashi when you had heard about him being bullied, hence why Kei and you were actual friends now. Tadashi was the link between the two of you that had stuck. Being forced to make conversation as some of the only kids in the neighborhood had simply made you acquaintances.

"If you knew I was going to say no then why would you give me the letter?" Kei asked.

"Because I'm hoping you'll broaden your horizons," you offered, waving your hand dismissively. "Besides, it sends the wrong message if I just throw them away without giving them to you. Not to mention, a lot of the girls don't like me to begin with because I'm one of the few people you can tolerate for more than a few minutes at the time. You've never had a girlfriend, Kei, even if they aren't girlfriend material, couldn't you at least make a few more friends?"

"I can barely deal with you and Tadashi, I don't need anymore friends," Kei told you, and you laughed.

"Keep telling yourself that Kei. I'll see you guys later, alright?"

Tadashi and Kei nodded, watching you leave before they rejoined practice.

"Are you sure she isn't your girlfriend, Tsukishima?" Sugawara asked, watching the blocker with mild interest.

Despite being second years now, their former upperclassmen were showing up more as tournament season drew closer. Though Kei also suspected that they were being nostalgic and that they missed their underclassmen's chaos.

"I'm sure," he assured the former setter. "Why?"

"Nothing, just a hunch," he murmured.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Guys, do you ever wonder how many people see you on the side of the street and think, 'Wow, they are the most beautiful person I have ever seen'?" you asked, as you hung upside down on the monkey bars.

"I think the blood is going to your head, (Y/F/N)," Tadashi teased.

"No, I'm serious," you said, turning to look at him. "I was thinking, earlier, about how Kei keeps getting all these love letters, and it made me wonder how many people see me as attractive, but never say anything. I don't think it's very many," you admitted, "but I wonder if they are out there."

Tadashi sighed, putting his hands on his forehead in an exasperated manner.

"(Y/F/N)," he said, sounding almost breathless, "just because Kei is getting letters doesn't mean that people don't find you attractive."

"I'm not saying people don't find me attractive," you said, swinging yourself up onto the bars again. "I know someone in the world must have standards that low, but just because they find me attractive doesn't mean they would date me."

"Why are we talking about this?" Kei asked, annoyance riddling his tone.

"Technically Tadashi and I were talking about it," you told him. "You were simply listening to the conversation."

"That doesn't tell me why this is the topic of conversation," he countered.

"I'm just saying! Kei keeps getting all these letters, and it makes me wonder if these girls actually think that they're in love with him. Attraction is really just a release of chemicals in the brain from when we were simply a species trying to survive. But that's not love," you said.

"So what's love to you?" Tadashi asked, curious.

"I think real, true love is when you see something that reminds you of them and you smile, even without realizing it. I think it's when it hurts to see them hurt, but you stay by them instead of seeking revenge, knowing they need you in the moment. I think it's the little inside jokes that mean nothing to people around you, but it's everything to you. I think it's knowing that there are plenty of people that are better than you out there, but wanting to stick around to be better for that person, to prove that you're worth it.

"I think it's seeing all the broken pieces, and loving them all anyway. It's remembering the little things. It's being able to sit in complete silence and know what the other is saying just because of the way their eyes crinkle. It's knowing that they have the power to break off new pieces, and trusting that they won't. It's when . . . instead of breaking pieces of yourself so that they can handle you, you stay whole. If they choke, you know it's not love, not really.

"It's knowing that you can stand on your own two feet, but leaning on them anyway. It's knowing that you are your own person, but wanting to share it with someone anyway. It's feeling free and wild, but content to stay still, because you trust them. For me, I feel like love is knowing that someone would read with me on a window seat, watching it rain, but they would also drive just a little too fast down older roads with the windows down so we can pretend, just for a moment, that we're in a shitty music video."

You smiled as you turned yourself upside down on the monkey bars again.

"I think it's kind of like what we have, but more romantic."

"You've been reading too much fanfiction," Kei muttered.

"Maybe," you admitted. "But maybe that's because I want to be able to spew romantic bullshit like that when I finally find a guy that likes me for me. I realize that, realistically, I'll probably never feel like that. Or at least, I won't feel it enough to put it into words like that. Fantasy never lives up to reality after all. But it's a nice thought."

"So, you don't think you'll ever find something like that?" Tadashi asked.

"I think that I'll either end up married to a man that was good enough, or on my own with no social life except you and Kei. I'll rely on work to keep me entertained."

Kei snorted.

"What's so funny you overly salted French fry?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"If I ever think you're marrying a man that's just 'good enough', I'll say 'I object!' at the wedding," he told you.

"Oh yeah?" you asked, smiling. "And why's that?"

"Because you deserve more than that," he said, looking you in the eye. "(Y/F/N), you are not the kind of girl that should end up with 'good enough'. You're too . . . free for that. Although, maybe independent is a better word. You would wither with just 'good enough', and that's not something I'm willing to let happen."

"Aw, so you do care about me," you cooed, swinging yourself upright onto the bars. "And don't worry Kei, we both know that Tadashi and I will never let you settle with 'good enough' either."

"What about me?" Tadashi squawked, and you laughed.

"Come 'Dashi," you chided, "we all know that you won't end up with 'good enough' even if you try."

His cheeks went pink and you laughed again.

Kei, as much as he pretended otherwise, really loved seeing you and Tadashi laugh like this. It reminded him that there were people who didn't see just the bastard act that he threw up to protect himself.

He loved the way your dimple appeared when you gave Tadashi that real smile, not the smirk or the grin you gave people. He loved seeing Tadashi carefree and not hiding behind his hand when he laughed or smiled.

He loved being able to sit and watch the two of you interact, but know that he could pop into the conversation whenever.

"Kei, that look on your face is kind of creepy," you teased, sliding to the ground to ruffle his hair, a small way of telling him you didn't mean it. "What's it for?"

"Nothing," he muttered, hoping to the heavens that his ears weren't turning pink, though they probably were.

"Come on Tsukki," Tadashi said, giving him a look, "we've all been friends for years. We know you better than that."

"I'm just glad is all," he murmured.

"Glad for what?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, leaning over them to look at his face.

"You. Tadashi. You know, my friends," he confessed.

Damn it! His ears were definitely pink.

But he didn't shove you off.

Most people assumed that Kei was a jerk all the time, and while that might have been true for anyone else, you and Tadashi were the exceptions to his rule.

You and Tadashi had been friends with him for almost your whole lives, and both of you had been there during the brother debacle.

You and Kei had lived in the same neighborhood for years, and had been a part of more than a few conversations that had been forced by social convention, and your mother had been good friends with his in high school, though they had lost touch after that.

You had noticed Tadashi being bullied in class and had stepped in, defending him and deciding that he was more worth your time than the other kids.

Which led you to Kei, when you found out that he had helped Tadashi on the playground, even if that had never been his original intention.

The three of you had become a trio of sorts in your later years, though your reputations weren't the most . . . innocent.

Kei had always had a sharp tongue and a quicker wit, and his irritation seemed to have no limits.

You were on level with him, though you were much harder to set off than he was.

Tadashi never really provoked, but he watched as the two of you eviscerated anyone that insulted him.

Kei was ruthless with people who made comments on you and/or Tadashi, never giving them a chance to get another word in, though they had often tried, simply making themselves seem more like idiots.

On the other hand, you tended to let people hang themselves with their own tongues, before using that quick wit and sharp tongue to gut them like the pigs that they were.

Tadashi had little confidence on his own, and he tended to be more affected by words than you or Kei, so most of the time he let you and Kei handle people, but every once in a while, he would be set off.

Nothing was scarier than Tadashi getting pissed. He was rarely ever confrontational, but when something set him off, it was terrifying. He got really quiet, and he never raised his voice. There was a quiet kind of fury that radiated from him when he got like that, and if you and Kei used your words to eviscerate, Tadashi used his to give someone hypothermia. He would make them get colder and colder before their brains tricked them into thinking they were too hot, and then ended them.

All three of you were terrifying in your own ways, but that didn't mean you were like that all the time.

Kei wasn't an asshole all the time, and he enjoyed receiving hugs and other types of physical affection, he was just shit at reciprocating it and letting others see that more 'vulnerable side of him', as he put it. He was better at fixing problems logically. He helped you and Tadashi study, or sometimes bought gifts to make you both feel better, little things that still made your days.

Tadashi was someone who might not be confrontational, but he was very good about getting you and Kei out of your heads when something did hit a chink in your respective armors. He knew that both you and Kei were more affected by what people said than most people were led to believe. He was also a very good listener.

You were the giver of physical affection when the boys needed it. Kei tended to need it more than Tadashi, since Tadashi had his moms who were more than willing to give hugs. Kei didn't like his mother thinking anything was wrong, and he didn't completely trust his brother anymore, so physical contact was kept to a minimum.

Tadashi was okay with giving Kei affection, but most of the time, when it came to Kei, you were the one he went to.

You had asked him once, why he always came to you.

"I sometimes think Tadashi puts me up on a pedestal," he had admitted. "He knows me, and he's my friend, but sometimes it feels like I can't disappoint him. I don't feel that way with you. Besides, your short enough that hugging you feels better. Plus, Tadashi is all bones."

"We're glad for you too Kei," you told him, leaning your chin on his shoulder.

Tadashi nodded, taking a seat beside Kei.

Kei's heart clenched, like it often did when he was reminded that he really did have great friends, and his ears got hotter.

"Alright, enough of the mushy stuff," he muttered, trying to wave you and Tadashi away.

"Come on Kei," you whined softly, gently bumping your head with his, "we all know that you have a heart! Don't be that way, it's just us."

Kei made a small noise, and you laughed, releasing him so that you could sit on his other side, peering up into his face with your adorable fucking doe eyes.

"You know you don't have to pretend with us," you murmured, leaning on his shoulder, taking his hand.

"Yeah, we've all been friends for long enough Tsukki," Tadashi agreed, leaning his head on Kei's other shoulder.

"I hate you both," he muttered, trying to hide his face in his hands.

"Nuh uh," you said, pulling away to pull his hands from his face, sounding like a child. "No hiding from us."

You took his hand again, and for a while, all three of you just sat there, enjoying each other's company.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tsukishima! You're girlfriend is here again," Suga said, gesturing to where you were walking through the doors of the gym, laughing with Yachi.

"Again, she's not my girlfriend," Kei muttered.

He remembered, suddenly, about the promise you had both made when you were middle school and boys were starting to notice girls and vice versa.

"Kei and (Y/F/N) would make such a cute couple when they're older," your mother had told his, smiling as you both chatted at a neighborhood barbeque, being two of the only children there that could hold an intelligent conversation.

At that point, you and Kei were more than acquaintances, but you weren't exactly friends yet either.

Neither mother had realized that you and Kei had overheard, and when Kei had glanced at you, your nose was wrinkled like it did when you were grossed out by something, your expression mirroring his.

"Promise me something Kei," you had said, turning your attention back to him. "Promise me that you won't ever fall in love with me."

"Why not? I mean, I won't, but I want a reason," he had said, arms crossed as he looked at you.

"Because we're friends," you had said, like it had been the simplest thing in the world. "And because if we ended up falling in love and dating that means Tadashi would feel left out all the time and I won't let that happen. So promise me."

"I promise not to fall in love with you if you promise not to fall in love with me," he had offered.

"Deal," you had told him, offering him your hand to shake on it.

"Ah, Kei, there you are!" you said, smiling at him. "There's another letter. Based on the amount of hearts on it, another confession."

"Keep it," he muttered, pushing your hand away when you went to hand him the letter.

"Kei, I don't want to carry around another one of your love letters," you said, wrinkling your nose. "These aren't for me, and they make me sick, so please, for the sake of our friendship, take the damn thing off my hands so I can wash them."

He sighed, a pained sound that had you laughing, and took the letter, slipping it into his bag, wondering if the girls at school would ever take a hint that he wasn't interested.

"Why is Tsukishima so popular with the girls?" Hinata wondered out loud. "His personality is so crappy."

"And I don't think I've ever heard him say a nice thing to anyone," Kageyama added.

"That's because you guys are irritating to Kei," you interrupted, turning to them, arms crossed and hip cocked out to the side. "Most of the time, he's helpful and respectful. You two just aren't the kind of people he would voluntarily hang out with."

"Rude," Hinata cried, then pouted, "but true."

"The only people Kei really rips into are people he doesn't like, doesn't respect, people who disrespect Tadashi or me, or people who betray his trust. You two are options one and two."

"He just seems like an unfeeling asshole, even after three years of knowing him."

"I think it's the opposite actually," you told them.

Kei could feel your eyes on the back of his head, either unaware that he could hear you or uncaring that he was listening.

"I think he feels all of it, at one hundred and twenty percent. He just acts like that to avoid getting hurt in most cases. In your case though, he really does just not like you. Or, more accurately, he doesn't like that you two are so clearly passionate about something when he gets scared of something hurting him if he cares too much. Like Tadashi told you once, Hinata, if Kei didn't at least like volleyball, he wouldn't be here. Just think about it," you told them.

"(Y/F/N)!" Tadashi called. "We're still studying at your place right?"

"Yeah, just like always," you assured him. "Kei, you still have the spare key, just let yourselves in."

He nodded, spinning the ball in his hands as he watched you walk away.

"Tsukishima, are you one hundred percent sure that she isn't your girlfriend?" Suga asked, eyebrows raised at him.

"Three hundred percent sure," Tsukishima grunted as he served the ball.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why do you never accept any of the confessions, Kei?" you asked, looking at him from over the top of your textbook.

Your head was hanging off the side of your bed and your socked feet were crossed at the ankles, resting on your wall.

Kei's neck hurt just looking at you, but he didn't say anything to you about moving.

"Because they aren't my type," Kei muttered, checking his notes before writing down an answer on his paper.

"What is your type?" you inquired, rolling onto your stomach, setting you book to the side. "Because I don't think I've ever seen you take an interest in a girl." You frowned, then added, "Romantic interest I mean."

Kei wondered what other interest you had thought he might get out of that, but he decided not to question it. Despite knowing you for years, and being as close to you as he was, you still managed to be somewhat of a mystery to him.

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"Yes, because I want to be able to set you up when you decide you're ready for a relationship!" you said. "Tadashi and I would make great wingmen. Well, wingman and wingwoman, but you know what I mean."

Kei actually turned to look at you at that one.

"You're serious," he muttered, noting the look on your face.

"Yes! Unless you don't think you're going to want a romantic relationship, which is completely okay too. I just want you to be happy is all."

"You know what makes me happy?" Kei asked, pausing to let you answer, but instead you stayed quiet, watching him with those damn doe eyes. "Getting my homework done and not having to deal with confessions from girls that don't know the first thing about me."

Kei heard your small chuckle, and as he went back to his homework, he found himself smiling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kei had always known that, objectively, you were very pretty (he had heard enough from his classmates over the years to have it verified), but sometimes you did something, and he would realize all over again.

Today you had laughed a little harder as he ripped into someone, and you had given him one of those dimpled smiles that he adored so much, and he had stood there blinking for a moment before he cooled his expression again.

Kei didn't really understand why he got so mad when someone flirted with you in the hallways, or when you came to cheer the team on during games.

He had always assumed that it was merely because you were such good friends, but then he had realized that no one else got that mad, they didn't feel the same painful burning in the pit of their stomachs at seeing you with another guy.

Asking Suga had done absolutely nothing, the setter had merely suggested that Kei was jealous, which was absolute bullshit, and he wasn't desperate enough to contact Bokuto or Kuroo yet, though he might be at the point of asking Akaashi.

He would know if he liked you the way that the older setter was implying. He would know if he was in love with you.

Right?

Kei could worry about that later, right now he was more interested in getting that guy's hand off your shoulder and away from your neck.

"(Y/F/N)," Kei called, striding over, back straight. "The game's about to start, we've got to go."

"Kei!" you chirped, smiling at him, moving to his side immediately, giving the guy that had been bugging you a sugar sweet (and utterly fake) smile over your shoulder. "See you around never, hopefully!"

Kei pressed his lips together to hide his smile, letting you wrap your hand around his.

"Was that guy bothering you?"

"A little, but you got there just in time," you told him, your hand tightening it's grip for a moment before you let him go. "Thanks for always having the most amazing timing Kei!"

"Yeah, whatever," he told you, bumping your shoulder with his.

"Seriously, what is it with the girls that hang around with us and wandering off?" Daichi asked when you walked into the gym with Kei.

"Sorry guys! I just wanted to buy a key chain," you said, holding it up, grinning. "It's not my fault that athletes can't take no for an answer! Sometimes I think your on-court determination bleeds over into everyday life."

There were some nods, and Kei watched as the guy that had been bothering you stepped onto the other side of the court.

He followed the guy's eyes to you, where you were laughing at something Kageyama said.

Did- Did that moron just lick his lips at you?

Kei felt that burning sensation in his stomach again.

Kei didn't realize that he had been glaring until he heard your voice right next to him.

"Anyway, good luck guys!" you told them, affectionately ruffling Tadashi's hair, hip-checking Kei on your way into the stands, flashing him that damned dimpled grin over your shoulder.

"Hey, Blondie!" the guy called. "You, Glasses! I'm talkin' to you!"

Kei turned to see the guy from earlier smirking at him.

"Dude, your girl is so hot!" he said.

Kei felt the entirety of Karasuno tense behind him as they realized what was going on.

"Yeah, she is," Kei agreed.

"Think you'd be willin' to share her with me? I promise I'd take good care of her."

"Oh shit," someone muttered, and Kei saw red for a moment before he got himself under control.

"Is your ass jealous about the amount of shit that just came out of your mouth?" Kei asked, putting his hand on his hip.

Using insults like that was never really his thing, but he was really pissed right now.

"Hey, Tsukki," Tadashi said quietly, "you might not want to-"

"What did you just say to me?" the guy asked.

"Hey, Kei!" you called from the stands, waving at him to catch his attention. "Leave the smack talk for when you actually win! Block his spike down his throat for me, alright?"

He nodded, giving you a grin that had you giving him one right back.

"God forbid if she was a guy and they were on the same team," Suga muttered, and the others nodded.

"Alright, time for the game to start," Daichi said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kei did as you asked: he blocked every single spike that the guy tried to send over the net, and Kei could already tell that the guy was pissed at the end of the first set.

He was spiking more and more aggressively, which was screwing up aim to the point where Kei didn't even really need to block.

"Go Karasuno!" you cheered, smiling at the team from the stands.

Kei, every time he felt his anger getting out of control, looked to you in the stands to calm down.

Finally, the scumbag was so out of control that he was switched out with another wing spiker.

From there, the game was easy.

By the end of it, Kei hadn't even needed to look for you in the stands. Not only had he memorized where you were, but no one else on that team pissed him off as much as that scumbag did.

As soon as the ball landed on the other side of the court, and it was called, you were running down from the stands, running for him.

"Kei! You were so great!" you cheered, wrapping your arms around his neck, jumping at him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist to keep the both of you from falling over, and he buried his face in your neck as he set you down.

"Oh my gosh, Kei that was so amazing! I think that's the best you've played all season! Seriously! Some of those blocked looked like they would've ripped my arms off, that was so cool!" you gushed, holding onto his forearms.

Kei nodded, giving Tadashi a look over your shoulder for a moment, letting him know that it was okay for him to go on ahead.

"Thanks for blocking the slime ball for me Kei!" you said, smiling up at him. "And what did he say to you that got you so pissed off? I haven't seen you that mad in forever!"

"It was nothing," he told you, "it was stupid."

"Are you sure?" you inquired, looking up at him.

"Yeah, I'm sure the team will tell you about it later."

"Alright, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay," you told him, "'cause you looked really pissed. I haven't seen you that pissed off since that one guy tried to make Tadashi cry."

"I don't like it when people make you uncomfortable like that," Kei said. "It really pisses me off."

"Is that why you kept looking at me during the game?" you asked, and Kei wondered if any other girl would've been so honest with him about something like this, or if it as just the fact that you had both spent so much time together growing up. "I noticed that you always looked at me whenever you had the chance."

Kei nodded, gesturing with his head towards the doors, so that he could catch up with the team and talk with you at the same time.

"Yeah, that was one of the reasons. It kept me focused on the scumbag's spikes, and it calmed me down enough so that I didn't punch him whenever we were across the net from each other."

"I kinda wish that you had, but I also know that it would've gotten you ejected from the game, which is not something I want to happen. Anyway, thanks Kei," you told him, smiling up at him.

"Yeah, always," he said, putting his hand on your head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was when you were over at his house Sunday morning when he realized that he might need to call Kuroo and Bokuto.

You, Kei, and Tadashi had had a sleepover, but Tadashi had left early to spend some time with his moms, so Kei had woken up to you with a hand on his chest and his arm numb from where it was pillowing your head.

The three of you had been sitting on Kei's bed watching a movie, but Tadashi had tipped over sometime near the halfway marker, and Kei had fallen asleep not long after that, so he could only assume that you had fallen asleep sometime after Tadashi had left this morning.

Kei turned on his side slowly, not wanting to wake you up, wrapping an arm around your waist softly.

He toyed with your hair, twisting it in his fingers gently, brushing it behind your ear, threading his fingers through it.

He wasn't ready to get up for the day yet, so he laid there with you, wondering how it would be ten years in the future.

Would your hair be longer? Would you cut it shorter? Would you dye it? Would you have kids by then?

That last one had made him pause.

He had always known that short of you dying or some huge falling out, Kei was in no way going to be able to get rid of you or Tadashi, but he had never even considered dating you, let alone anything beyond that.

So why was he wondering what your kids would look like? Why was he wondering how many you would want, if any? Why was he questioning how many stray animals you might bring home after work?

He sounded like every lovesick fool that got his heart broken in those weird movies that Tadashi liked to watch.

Kei glanced down at your face, and he suddenly found himself unable to think of a reality where he didn't wake up like this for the rest of his life.

When had he stopped seeing you as his little sister, or the annoying female friend that all of his classmates admired? When had he started seeing you as someone he could fall in love with, if he hadn't already?

But even with this new revelation, he couldn't bring himself to pull away from you.

Kei loved it when you both bickered like you hated each other, and he loved when you were able to throw back any insulting thing he said to you. He loved being able to have real conversations with you, but he also liked just sitting quietly with you.

This though, this was by far his favorite thing, seeing all the stress gone from your body, seeing your face without any kind of mask on, he adore seeing the calm serenity that came with sleep.

"Mm, Kei?" you asked sleepily, glancing at him. "What time is it?"

"Still early," he murmured, tucking you into his chest again. "Go back to sleep."

"M'kay," you said, nuzzling in close.

Kei waited for a minute before he grabbed his phone and his glasses from the side table, texting Kuroo.

Normally, he would've talked to Tadashi, but Kei didn't want to drag him into anything until he knew for sure, just in case he was wrong.

Kei: I have a question for you

Kuroo: What's up Tsukki-poo?

Kei: First, don't call me that

Kei: Secondly, and this is completely hypothetical, but how do you know when you love someone?

Kuroo: Aww, is my little kouhai in love with someone? How cute!

Kei made a face, taking a deep breath and glancing at you quickly before he turned his attention back to his phone.

Kei: Just answer the question

Kuroo: We're talking hypothetically?

Kei: Yeah

Kuroo: Can't you use the internet for this stuff? Why ask me? Why not ask Freckles? Or the pretty setter on your team?

Kei: The internet would tell me I have cancer, not that I might be in love with someone

Kei: Secondly, as for the setter comment, I'm assuming you mean Suga

Kei: Thirdly, he would go tell Tadashi, and then the possible love interest, and I don't want to deal with any of those things

Kei: So, please, for the sake of my sanity, just answer the question

Kuroo: Alright, alright. Jeesh. Hypothetically, if you were in love with someone you might start noticing their presence more

Kuroo: It would feel almost like you have a compass where the needle points to them, and you can't turn it off. You notice the little things more than normal, and you know them. I mean, really know them. They feel almost like a part of you

Kuroo: Seeing them hurt hurts you. You constantly feel the need to make sure that they're okay. Even the little things that kind of annoy you are a huge part of what you love about them

Kuroo: You find yourself smiling at them, even when they're doing something completely mundane, and you could recognize their voice in a crowd. Suddenly, they went from just another person, to someone that you could find in a crowd, even if they blend in enough that they normally fade into the background

Kuroo: Hypothetically speaking, of course

Kei was surprised by how much his mentor was able to type out in such a short amount of time, but in the end, he was most surprised by how much it lined up with what you had told him earlier. The basics were the same, and Kei sighed, realizing what this meant for him.

Kei: How to I make it stop?

Kei: Hypothetically

Kuroo: When I figure that out, I'll let you know

Kei blinked at that, then sighed again.

Kei: Thanks, Kuroo-san.

Kuroo: Sure thing Skinny, let me know how it goes

Kuroo: Hypothetically, of course

Kei couldn't help but chuckle softly, and he set his phone aside, wondering whether this was going to change anything, and how long he had been in love with you.

He had always noticed the little things about you, it was just a part of him being perceptive, and he had grown up with you, so he automatically knew you better than 80 percent of the people you went to school with.

But he was more in tune with your presence than even Tadashi was. And he had always managed to pick your voice out in a crowd.

He glanced down at you, and suddenly, instead of being worried about if he was in love you, he was more worried about whether you loved him back or not.

Kei debated texting Tadashi, but he decided that it could wait, and he wanted to enjoy this time with you unhindered.

Kei knew that he was never going to say anything unless he was sure you felt the same way about him.

For one thing, you were nice enough that it was entirely possible that you would date him just because you were too nice to say no. For another thing, he wasn't the kind of guy to make a move if he thought it wouldn't lead to a win. Not to mention, that if you he did ask you out and you said no, that might make things awkward in the friend group, and Kei didn't want that to happen.

He had gone this long, right? What was a few more weeks?

But, of course, things didn't go the way that Kei wanted them to.

As the end of a semester approached, as well as the end of the year, projects piled on, as did speeches and tests.

Kei had always done well academically, and he wasn't as stressed as some of the other people he knew, like Hinata and Kageyama.

You seemed to be feeling the pressure too, even though Kei knew that you were going to be getting some of the higher grades in class, just like always.

You were freaking out more than usual, and Kei realized that he needed to do something if he didn't want you to overwork yourself.

He found you on the swings at the park by your house.

He had gone over to make sure that you had eaten something, but your mother had told him that you had gone out earlier, and that she didn't know where you were.

"Hey," he said, announcing his presence as he settled beside you.

"Hey Kei," you replied, staring at the ground in front of you like it held the key to the universe.

"Are you okay?"

"No," you admitted. "I'm so nervous and freaked out that I can't eat anything. I have that weird mineral deficiency so drinking water just makes me really dizzy and I almost passed out when I stood up at the end of the day and there's nothing I can do about it! Not to mention that, once again, I got stuck with the morons that aren't going to do anything to help me with the project so I'm stuck doing everything by myself. For some of my classes, that's okay, I can just tell the teacher that they didn't help, but for some of them they're going to give me that bullshit lecture about working together. I have no idea what to do my speech about for that one class, and I have so many back to back tests that I think I might forget everything!"

Kei let you ramble, watching the way your hands moved around, trying to communicate the stress and anger and nerves that you were experiencing all at once.

He watched the way yours eyes widened and squeezed shut to add extra emphasis. He watched the way you glanced over at him to make sure that he was still paying attention, to make sure that you weren't annoying him, the way you smiled a little bit whenever you noticed that he was watching you and that you weren't annoying him by talking.

Somehow, you started talking about the constant love letters that he was getting.

"I mean, I get that some girls feel the need to have a boyfriend," you said, rolling your eyes, "but I have bigger things to worry about than their attraction to you, you know? One girl gave me a letter the other day, and I was so tired that I didn't realize what it was, and I started to read it and I was caught between wanting to laugh, cry, and hurl all at the same time."

Kei perked up at that.

"It made me kinda sad too," you admitted, your voice quieting. "I mean, it must really suck for you, getting all these letters claiming that they love you when they don't even know that first thing about who you are. I mean, it was hilarious that she even thought that you were interested in getting a girlfriend, and it was sickening how many times she used the words 'hot', 'sexy', and 'unadulteratedly handsome' to describe you."

Kei knew he made a face at that, with the way you laughed, before you continued, your voice even quieter than it had been, "But it made me sad to think that you keep having to read these things. They claim that they love you, that they want to be with you, and they don't even know who you are. Not in a way that matters at least. I don't know, it was just kind of depressing I guess."

You glanced at him, turning to face him.

"I hope you don't mind, but I started throwing them away. I'm getting sick and tired of being their carrier pigeon, and I really hate thinking about you having to deal with them all the time. If they want to confess they can find another way to do it."

"I don't mind, at all," he assured you, and you smiled at him.

But then your smiled faded into something similar to a frown.

"Hey, Kei?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember that promise we made when we were kids?"

"How could I forget? You never shut up about it during middle school," he teased.

"I broke that promise," you whispered. "That was one of the reasons that those letters made me so upset. As someone who has loved you, really loved you, for longer than they've known about you, it made me sick to read some of the things they said. I know that that makes me sound like some kind of possessive bitch, but it's true."

Kei stared at you, wondering if he had just heard that right.

You were in love with him? And had been for more than three years?

Kei felt like the breath had been knocked out of him.

"What's with the face Kei?" you asked. "I thought you knew already."

Kei didn't think that his eyes could get any wider than they were at that moment.

"Y-You . . . I-I what?"

"Come on Kei, you had to have noticed by now," you said, looking more concerned by the second. "I mean, it's not like I act the same way around everyone else that I do around you."

Kei let his brain process the things that you were telling him before he managed to squeak out, "You mean, like a friend thing right?"

You bit your lip, checking his face for something, fiddling with your fingers in your lap.

"No, Kei," you said finally. "I mean like, I want to be your girlfriend kind of love."

You weren't looking at him now, and he was worried you were taking this the wrong way. He didn't want this to end in a misunderstanding so he sighed dramatically.

"So, you're telling me that I could have confessed months ago and avoided the entire overthinking part of my recent internal panic?" he asked, watching the way your brows furrowed with confusion, the way your head whipped up when you finally realized what he was saying to you.

"A-Are you saying that the feeling is mutual?" you asked, eyes wide as you both looked at each other.

"Yes, you dumbass," he teased, smiling softly at you. "I broke that promise too, so it's okay, since we both broke it."

Now you were the one staring at him in disbelief.

Then you were off your swing and pacing in front of them, waving your hands around like a madwoman.

"Holy shit, you love me back," you muttered, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye every few seconds, like you were worried he would disappear. "I-I don't know what to do from here. I never thought that I would get this far. Is . . . is this where we talk about whether we want this to be a serious thing?" you asked. "Is this where we agree that we love each other but we pretend like nothing's changed? What am I supposed to do in this situation?"

"For one thing," Kei said, standing so that he could wrap his hands around your wrists, gently making you look at him. "You could calm down and let me get a word or two in before you make yourself black out."

You nodded, taking a deep breath.

"For another," he continued, "you and I should go back to your house. Your mom is worried sick about you, and you need to eat something before you pass out. We can have a serious talk about what this means once you aren't in danger of passing out from exhaustion or malnutrition."

"Okay, but only because I know that you're going to make me do it anyway," you told him, making him laugh.

You both walked in silence for a while before you asked, "When did you realize?"

"A few months ago," he admitted. "I think I've always known, but that guy- the slimeball that I blocked- got on my nerves enough that I knew it wasn't some platonic 'protect a friend' thing. I started seeing it more and more after that. I talked to Kuroo-san about it when I was nearly 100 percent sure, and that solidified it for me I guess, that night you and Tadashi stayed over and we watched that horrid slasher film. I woke up and you were right there by my side, and suddenly I couldn't imagine waking up any other way."

"That really was a horrible movie," you muttered. "I didn't think you were going to be the cheesy one today, but then again, you are always surprising me. And you didn't think to tell me?"

"I was worried it would make things awkward, and I didn't want to say something and be wrong, you know? Besides, you can't say anything. How long have you known?"

"Do you remember the summer before our third year in middle school and we all stayed at my grandparents' camp for three weeks?"

"That long? We were- what?- twelve?"

"Yeah. I remember that there was a thunderstorm the first night we were there, and I got up in the middle of the night because I couldn't sleep, so I stood on the deck, in a tank top and shorts because I wanted to. I don't even remember how long I had been out there when you wandered out. I remember calling you a dumbass because 'What if I was a murderer?' and you just called me short.

"We both stood there for a few minutes, and when I shivered, you wrapped your arms around my waist from behind me, pressing your chest to my back and calling me an idiot for wearing something so light in the middle of a thunderstorm. Instead of doing the sensible thing and getting a blanket or a jacket, you just hugged me and stood there with me until I couldn't stand it and we went inside."

Kei remembered that. He had seen you standing out on the deck when the lightning had flashed, and he had been worried when you weren't in your room, so he had gone out to check on you.

You had looked so happy, standing there in the rain, listening to the thunder crash in the distance.

He had wanted to stay with you, so he had.

It was one of the first times he had decided that he didn't care what it looked like, he cared for you, and he was going to show it somehow.

Kei slipped his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers together.

You glanced at him, but you didn't say anything, just squeezed his hand and walked with him.

When you both got back to your house, you grabbed a plate of food and plopped down at your desk in your room.

Kei lounged on your bed while you ate, watching you flip through a textbook and scribble notes in between bites of food.

When you pushed the plate to the side, your turned to face him.

"So."

You both locked eyes and chuckled.

"I already told you what I wanted out of this," you told him, shrugging. "I'm fine with whatever we decide, but that's my best case scenario ending for this."

"You make this sound like a business meeting," he teased, watching you stand up to move next to him on your bed.

"What do you want from this, Kei?" you asked, glancing down at your lap.

"I want you to be my girlfriend," he admitted. "I want to glare at guys that think they even have a chance with you. I want to kiss you for good luck before a game, all that sappy shit that everyone says that I wouldn't be into."

You smiled, laughing a little breathlessly for a moment before you comprehended everything he said.

"All of it?" you asked, turning those damned doe eyes on him again.

"All of it," he confirmed.

You chuckled softly, taking his hand again.

"Good. Me too."

"Good," he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

You giggled, something that made Kei stop for a moment, because you weren't the type of girl to giggle, at anything.

He smiled softly at you, and he wondered how much shit he was going to get from his team with you around, but he realized that it wasn't anything he needed to worry about yet.

Then he remembered something else.

"Hey, do you want to cause a little chaos?" Kei asked you.

"How so?"

"Remember how I said I talked to Kuroo-san?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, he wanted me to let him know how it went," Kei admitted. "I have him, Bokuto, Akaashi, Lev, and Hinata in a discord group chat. I want to try something, if you're okay with it."

"What do you have in mind?" you asked, arching an eyebrow, a smirk on your lips that said you were up for almost anything.

Skinny: img.jpg

Skinny: Thanks Kuroo-san

five people are typing...

Kei laughed, leaning over to show you the chaos that had ensued when he had sent the group chat the photo of you kissing his cheek.

You giggled at the many exclamation points and question marks, snickering at Kuroo's reply.

"I love you," you told him, kissing his cheek again.

"I love you too," he said, ignoring the calls that were coming through on his phone as he leaned over to cup your face in his hands.

519 notes · View notes

57greenstreet · 3 years ago

Text

Gossip Guy podcast with Willem De Schryver

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYjtRYOGS00

translated by @jackfrostsander @bruisingknees @lblogss @yousmina and me :)

E: I do have another present for you.

W: Oei oei oei, presents.

E: I do that every week. I give something to my guest of the week.

W: Oei oei oei. Do I slide it?

E: Here in the front is a flap that you have to fold upwards…

[Intro]

E: Wassup people, welcome to a new episode of the Gossip Guy podcast. My name is Ender Scholtens and today I’m here with Willem De Schryver. Everything ok?

W: Sure sure (In Dutch sure is used as a confirmation to a question).

E: Is this your first podcast?

W: Yes, this is my first podcast.

E: Stress?

W: No, it will be fine, right? Relaxed.

E: I don’t know… (laughing). For the people who don’t recognize you, from where could they know you?

W: Hmmm, probably from the youth series WTFOCK where, in the third season, I play the role of Sander.

E: And we are allowed to talk about it in this podcast.

W: Yeah I also heard that. Yes, it’s over.

E: Was it a difficult chapter of your life to close?

W: Yes, I still clearly remember the last moment… Like really the last last scene at the sea… That was an emotional moment because you went through a lot as a group, you did a lot together, and emotional scenes, intimate scenes. But yes, I think, if I speak for the whole group that it was a goodbye to the series but not a goodbye from each other. We still keep in contact. Mainly through WhatsApp.

E: Yeah, the end of the series was beautiful. I sat next to my girlfriend when it just came online. Because there were a few scenes that we hadn’t seen yet and we were just watching them… And we refreshed and the last episode was online… The last piece was online… So, I thought… I really cried… It caused quite some emotions.

W: For many people… Also under the cast and even the extras that were present for that last scene… Even among them. I can remember that they got emotional because it really was over over. I think that we, WTFOCK, have been able to impact a lot of young people in Belgium. So, it’s beautiful… We closed it beautifully…

E: I don’t doubt that. I really liked the end. What is your favorite memory from your whole WTFOCK experience?

W: Hoh, hmmm. Do I have to choose one? Difficult to choose one… I think that the most enjoyable moments… At the end of each series… Almost… We were at the sea or in the Ardennes, as a group, for a vacation. Away together. And those moments… Away with the whole cast and crew… Being away for a whole weekend. And in the evening, talking late into the night and that creates a special connection and I think that, in general, was the most enjoyable… Yes, it affects me… You share, as a young person, a common dream or something we want to realize as an actor to succeed and everyone who works so hard for that… That’s nice to see.

E: I recently talked to Veerle and I know that if she sees Nora, like somewhere, say at a party… Then they stay together for the whole evening… Do you have that? With who did you have the best connection throughout that whole experience?

W: Yes…

E: That doesn’t mean that the rest is not chill or so…

W: No the rest is all stupid… There’s only one person… I hate you all! (joking) No! Yes, hmmm, I think that I definitely have the best connection with Willem. Just because we have been through a lot… I always compare the WTFOCK crew a bit to my own friend group, aside from the cast. I mean, I know to whom I can go for what. I know I can go to some if I feel sad, to talk and I know who I can go to to have a laugh. And who I can go to to have a general chat. And everyone has their qualities or like their own aura around them… Where I love to hang around. So, it differs from person to person. So, it’s hard to choose one person but Willem then in the sense that, if you jump naked together in a swimming pool and if you have intimate scenes together… That creates a connection, of course. So, yes, if I have to choose one person…

E: Is there a barrier that you have to overcome to play such scenes? Because they are very intimate, indeed. And I, personally, couldn’t imagine… I can’t act… But, to empathize with a role… To play such scenes… Is that difficult for you?

W: Huh, yes, that’s a question I get often. I mean like… Yeah and you have to empathize with that character… But yes, you step into that project with a certain professionalism and you say “okay, we are going to create a story and bring it to the public with certain values and that we want to tell something and show something” …So, yes, you don’t really think about it. So, it’s not like I thought “Ooooo, I am kissing with a boy but I am interested in girls”. That was not a problem for me because it really is about telling the story and making that together and if the story requires that then you just completely go for it.

E: That’s cool. What are your future acting ambitions? You now have played in a series, is that something you want to do more in the future or do you like theatre more or movie or…

W: I find it difficult to choose between theatre and film, for example. After WTFOCK I played in Déjà Vu, which you can see on Streamz and later this year on Channel 4… And I study theatre at KASK. And I notice the difference, due to the recordings, I am really in the field and I am busy and I work, while at school I learn new things about theatre… So, in my opinion I have more experience in television work because I actually have done projects for that and I haven’t yet for theatre, which is still school and learning. So, I think it’s currently hard to choose but I think, maybe it’s a cliché answer, but the combination is maybe ideal, of course. But I am still exploring and I will see how it goes…

7:02

E: What is your favorite food?

W: My favorite food?

E: Yes.

W: Hmmmm, in the past I was really a basic guy… Like spaghetti bolognese or so… But now, generally after my exams, I go to a restaurant with my grandma. She always buys. That’s always amazing. I am a fan. And I always take steak tartare with fries. That remains a bit of a guilty pleasure.

E: How long, do you think, would it take you to eat five full plates of spaghetti bolognese?

W: Hoh, hmmm. The thing is, my stomach is rather small…

E: Small?

W: I think that I would have to schedule in… Okay, after a certain time I would have to throw up and then eating further…

E: You’re allowed to take a break. You’re allowed to say… Okay, I take a few days…

W: No, no, not that…

E: You’re going to do it in a day?

W: Look, two plates… Three if I really push…

E: You get preparation time so you know like a week before… So, you can like…

W: Train yourself?

E: Yes, train…

W: Hoh, alee say about four hours…

E: Four hours?! Five plates, he? Like five really big plates…

W: Yeah but yeah, four minutes… I am exaggerating… Let’s say a day… In a day five plates…

E: Ok, that should work. Then you basically have every meal… Breakfast… Lunch… Dinner… and in between… pasta…

W: Pasta as breakfast…

E: One day should definitely be feasible.

W: Yes, indeed.

8:49

E: What is, according to you, the reason you were placed on this planet?

W: Fuck (laughs).

E: Existential crisis, okay? Have you never thought about what the purpose of life is and what…

W: Yes, certainly… Hmmm, I'm someone who worries a lot. When I'm in bed in the evening I start to think about questions like that and then I think “what am I doing? Willem… where do I want to go to and…” Hmmm, why was I put on this planet? Hmmmm… (speechless followed by laughing). This is really bad… It’s like I don’t value myself…

E: Noooo, but I didn’t expect a deep philosophical answer. Well, if you had one… really good but…

W: Okay I’m going to think about my philosophical answer… but no. If you want… No! Yes, now I'm really going to sound philosophical but… (crosstalk) Everyone who is on earth has a certain reason to be here and everyone… I for example have that… I really feel that… I never liked going to school. Especially, in lower and high school. I… I actually, on purpose, put my fingers in my throat in the morning to throw up…

E: Wow, that’s heavy…

W: And then going downstairs to say “papa I’m ill, can I stay home?” I don’t know why but that whole system… Sitting behind a desk all day… And those classes… that was not for me. And then I discovered my passion for acting and discovered that it really suited me. And that’s the thing… A lot of people often ask me like “how did you start?” and “I also would like to do that and where do I start and I have been rejected does that mean I am not good enough?” but I think that sometimes you shouldn’t rush to find your passion. It can take longer then you would like it to take. I think that if you too intensively search for "what am I good at?" and “I have to find something that I am good at” and… For me that’s happened unexpectedly. I did take acting classes on Wednesday afternoons after school and I kind of got into it like that… I think it differs for everyone and that everyone has their own purpose here on earth.

E: And would you say your purpose is acting?

W: Yeah…

E: There isn’t a right answer but how does it feel for you at the moment? Is that the thing you love doing the most or do you see yourself doing for a long time?

W: The thing is… I’m a person who gets tired of things very quickly. I’ve had a lot of hobbies.

E: So maybe next week you want to garden or something?

W: No, no I wouldn’t say that. No the thing is, with acting that isn’t the case. Since I was twelve… well first on amateur level…

E: How old are you now?

W: 19.

E: Oh wow I thought you were my age. 19… damn bro you’re three years younger than me.

W: 2001 represent.

E: That’s literally… you’re the same age as my brother! What the shit. Alright, no okay.

W: In November so almost 2002. I’m really a latecomer.

E: What?! You look like you’re the same age as me and everything.

12:14

W: But that’s honestly – thank you for saying that! I always used to be the “little guy.” None of the girls wanted to be with me cause they just thought I was cute.

E: I see.

W: And they came to me to talk about their love lives.

E: Oh, okay.

W: So I was always that guy who was like: “I’m in love with you.” “Oh, how cute! You’re so cute!” So I was always like: “Okay then, I’m never going to find anyone, I’m always going to stay… short. I’ll be all alone.” And then all of a sudden I –

E: Do you think height matters in regard to your chances with certain… people?

W: At this age I don’t think it does anymore, but I do think that – I think at – I just remember in high school that the romantic idea of what love was supposed to look like was very: a boy and a girl, and the boy has to be taller and stronger and bigger than the girl. But I think that now it’s more… I mean, at my age I’m convinced it’s more fluid than that, and it doesn’t have to be that way. So it doesn’t have to be an issue anymore.

E: But still, when you go on Twitter, short guys are still –

W: Yeah.

E: Totally annihilated.

W: I have notice – I have noticed – Yeah, it’s still… It’s still this… general thing that people get stuck on. Like: “Oh, a short dude. That’s not okay.” Or whatever.

E: Or like the guy has to be taller. But no, we’re – we’re – not… not all relationships… we’re really generalizing here. But I get what you mean.

W: Yeah.

E: No, it’s – I do think it’s still important. I think that when you’re, and this is really harsh, but that a lot of people look at you differently when you’re taller. I have this dude in my friend group, Louis Ledegen, and he’s close to 2 meters tall, and just some girls look at him and they just think that’s so… attractive or whatever. And I just can’t even imagine.

W: I don’t get that either.

E: That that makes them go like: “Wow!”

W: I was in the train just now and this dude walked by me and he was honestly like 2 meters tall and I was just thinking: “When you’re that tall, and you’re with…” I mean, the girl almost has to get on a stepping stool to reach him for a kiss! And girls are like – I mean, I’ve heard before that girls think it’s attractive when a man is really tall.

E: Yeah.

W: And yeah, I don’t know… I don’t totally get it.

E: No.

W: Maybe it’s cause I’m not that tall myself, that I’m like trying to protect myself and be all: “That’s not necessary!”

E: Yeah! If anybody knows the answer, do we, being shorter guys, have less of a chance?

W: Let us know, please.

14:53

E: Please let us know! We need some answers! Now in the show, wtFOCK, your hair’s a different color.

W: Yeah.

E: Yeah. Is that something… So that was actually – it wasn’t really blonde?

W: It was completely bleached.

E: Bleached.

W: It was more to the… But the thing is that they had to do it twice, cause the first time… I got there, for the first table read with the director and Willem [Herbots] and they were like: “Hey, Willem. We wanted to ask you something. We’d like to bleach your hair for the role.”

E: Yeah.

W: And I was like: “… Okay.”

E: Okay.

W: “And why?” No. “Just for the character and stuff.” So I was like: “Okay. That’s fine.” The thing is I had to be at the hairdresser for 4 hours for this.

E: Oh wow, heavy.

W: It was like this and this product, and it had to sit for a long time. It had to be bleached all over. And I got out of there the first time and I was completely yellow – but yellow like an egg.

E: Oh, shit!

W: And I… My mom dropped me off, and I texted her: “I’m done, will you come get me?” And I saw my mom approach and she just passed me by.

E: Oh wow.

W: She didn’t – she almost didn’t recognize me anymore. Like halfway - she was like – and then she was like: “Oh! Willem!” Like she hadn’t seen –

E: Oh shit.

W: That it was me. That I looked completely different. And then I arrived for another table read and Tom [Goris – director] was like: “Yeah… We’re not gonna go this route… This is too yellow.” So then I spent another 4 hours at the hairdresser. After that I had to be there for four hours almost every month. I did think it was cool to have bleached hair, but… You have to be at the hairdresser for so long, so that really wasn’t… my thing. I mean, I had some really cool moments with Mitch [Fabry – hair & make up wtFOCK]. Thanks, Mitch.

E: Would you ever dye your hair again?

W: Uhm.

E: Maybe another color?

W: Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m quite happy with my hair color, actually, I don’t know.

E: Alright.

W: Now it’s also like… Everyone always asks me: “So this is your natural hair color?”

E: Yeah.

W: And then I have to tell them: “Yeah.” And it’s like: “Oh, okay!” It’s this switch. But no, I’m happy with my hair. It’s fine.

17:03

E: I can also tell that you’ve got an earring? You can’t really tell on camera, but –

W: I’ll come a little closer [to the camera]. Yeah, I only got it recently, four weeks or something.

E: Yeah. Was it an impulsive, drunken decision, or something you wanted… for some time?

W: I’ve wanted it for a long time, but I was a little anxious about it like: “It’s not gonna look good on me,” and then after a while, a couple of months ago, I was like: “Fuck it, I’m just gonna do it.” And if it didn’t look good I could still just take it out, so it doesn’t really matter. But all in all I was pretty happy with it. My father, my parents – my mom: “Oh, so nice!!” And it was like – at first they give you a stud and then after four weeks you can change it to a hoop. And I really wanted a hoop, and I even asked the people in the (piercing) shop: “Can’t I please just get a hoop straight away?” And they were like: “No, sorry, it doesn’t work like that. For hygiene reasons that’s not okay.”

E: Okay.

W: But okay, so I had to wait four weeks and then eventually I could change it to the golden hoop. So I get home and the first thing my father said was: “Wow, you look like a douchebag.” That was the first thing out of his mouth, that I looked like a douchebag.

E: Is that the look you were going for?

W: No, not at all! Not at all!

E: I think it looks cool.

W: Thanks.

E: Cause a little while ago I wanted one, and so I put on my girlfriend’s earring – because even if your ear isn’t pierced it sticks a little –

W: Yeah.

E: And so I just put it on there for a day or something, and then I was like: “Okay, that’s quite enough.” I don’t know if I’d want it for longer than that. Recently I’ve been getting into rings and stuff though.

W: I wore rings for a long time, but I don’t have any anymore. I actually want – I like them too. But I have to –

18:47

E: If I’d known, I would’ve brought you a gift!

W: Go shopping. Goddamn!

E: I did bring you another gift though!

W: Another gift? Oei oei oei, gifts!

E: This is something I do every week, I give my guest of the week something.

W: Oei oei oei.

E: It’s just…

W: Do I just slide it –

E: There’s a little hatch over here, that you have to lift, and then you can just lift it like that. There we go.

W: There we go.

E: White hairspray.

W: If I’d want to go back to – there we have it. Too good.

E: It can be washed out really easily as well. So this way you don’t have to be at the hairdresser for like four hours. And then when you’re sick of it, you can just get rid of it again!

W: That was the thing… Thank you, by the way.

E: You’re very welcome.

W: Now I can go back – Now I can go back to my past life. No, that was the thing as well. People who – people who - after wtFOCK came online, people really recognized me with the white hair. I mean, it’s pretty noticeable, when I’m walking through Ghent station – if someone with bleached hair. I mean, if you watch the show, I can imagine that when you see someone with bleached hair, you immediately connect the two and think: “Oh, that could be him.” And then you run in to some people who ask for pictures. After that my hair was really short, cause the people from Déja-Vu were like: “We’re not gonna do this, just go back to your natural hair color.” So I cut it all off, and there was this time where… nobody came to talk to me anymore. I was able to just be myself again. It was as if – looking back on it, it was actually really nice that for wtFOCK I was able to completely get into a different character with different hair. And the first time I got rid of the hair I really noticed that was no longer being associated with the character.

E: Hannah Montana vibes! Your hair changes color and nobody knows who you are anymore.

W: “Who are you?”

E: “Who the fuck are you?!”

W: “Does anybody want to take pictures with me? It’s me! It’s me! I swear!”

E: “I’m that dude from wtFOCK! I’m that dude from wtFOCK!”

W: So if people don’t recognize me anymore I can just… *pshhht* in the morning.

E: Exactly! If you want to take some more pictures, you can just…

W: No, no. That’s fine. No, yeah.

E: It’s kind of crazy, actually. Because, honestly? The very first time I saw a flash of you, with this hair color, I also thought: “I recognize you from somewhere…” But I think I’d already gotten in contact with you through social [media] and I didn’t put two and two together that you…

W: Yeah.

E: “Aaah!”

W: “Aaah! You’re that guy!”

E: Yeah, so…

W: But that’s the whole thing. If someone recognizes me, which doesn’t happen that often by the way, it’s always – I think it’s funny to be like: “No, that’s not me.”

E: No.

W: People really start doubting themselves, it’s very: “Uhm, can I ask you a question? Are you that guy from wtFock?” “Me? No.”

E: “No!”

W: “That’s not me.” And people will often be like: “Oh? What? But I recognize you…” That doubt on their faces is pretty funny but yeah, then I tell them it’s me.

E: Just the reaction of someone being like: “Huh, do I know you from somewhere?” “Do you watch porn?”

W: The confrontation.

E: “Oh… qmdkjg.” And it’d be even better if the parents were right there as well. “Argh!”

W: “Yes, Jürgen, care to explain yourself, young man?”

E: No, it’s just funny to joke about. But you’ve never – Do you just get: “Hey, are you that guy from wtFOCK?” Or have people also asked you: “Do I know you from somewhere?” Or: “What do I know you from?”

W: Yeah, it depends. The thing is – I go to school in Ghent and when the [popular place where college students go out] was still open before Covid-19, not that I went there often because I didn’t really like it there –

E: No.

W: - in the sense that the combination of young people who –

E: Watch wtFOCK.

W: - watch wtFOCK and alcohol – and people who’ve had alcohol to drink –

E: And are horny?

W: - their limits or boundaries are just gone. “Oh my god!!! You’re that dude from wtFOCK!! Can I kiss you??” Things like that!

E: Oh, fuck!

W: And I was really like: “Okay…?” I’m just a regular dude and I’m trying – and I actually thought it was less annoying for myself, but I thought it was more disruptive for my friends. Like even when we were just walking down the street, we got recognized a couple of times, and I was just like: I just want to have fun with my friends, and not have to spend too much time thinking. That’s another thing I was subconsciously thinking about. Imagine I drink way too much.

E: Yeah.

W: And I end up in the gutter somewhere, and people start filming that… So yeah, that made… So because of that I spent more time in friends’ dorm rooms just having dorm parties.

E: And since your bleached hair is gone, have you gone to a party?

W: When my bleached hair was gone corona was already a thing so I haven’t been able to enjoy it. But it’s starting to come back [the parties] so that’s nice. I’m looking forward to… tomorrow I’m going-

E: Are you going as well?

W: Are you going to Plein Air by Fuse?

E: Tomorrow I’m going to Jaimie Lee who-

W: …Is going to DJ at three festivals.

E: Yeah at three festivals and I will be backstage I guess.

W: Okay.

E: One of those festivals?

W: Yeah I don’t know. I have tickets for Fuse Open Air in Brussels.

24:19

E: I honestly have no idea where I’m going. Anyway, I’m excited. And I always asked, what’s the first event you went to ever since it’s allowed? Did you go to We Can Dance festival?

W: No I was studying.

E: Was today your last exam or yesterday?

W: Yesterday was my last exam in the morning. I was stressing so much, because I thought I would fail, but eventually I think it went relatively well. If you’re watching professors, let me pass please. No I think it went well.

E: Are you someone who is stress resistant?

W: Uhh no.

E: No?

W: I let it take over my body.

E: You get physically unwell?

W: I will be laying in bed and I’m tossing and turning and sweating. And I think about how I’m not gonna pass tomorrow. And the combination with my worries is really not good. It makes me stay up really late. The thing is with stress resistant, I for example made my own play at high school about a kid with divorced parents for my final work and the whole audience was filled with my family and my parents. That’s pretty confronting to tell a story that’s also a little bit of their life and is pretty personal. I’m always stressed for things like that. Then it’s weird – from the first word I spoke I had a lot of stress and worries and the first sentence that I said was something like “I don’t know what to do”, and then it’s all of a sudden poofff. The train has left.

E: You said you didn’t really know what to do now.

W: That’s the first sentence of the text that I wrote and the moment I said that sentence I thought in my head “the train has left, there’s no way back now” and then the stress disappears automatically. But before the final rehearsal there was a moment that I was moving around heavily and I was throwing with chairs. And afterwards I had to pack moving boxes, which was okay. But from moving around and the combination of stress it made me almost gag in the box from the stress so I almost puked. So at these moments it gets pretty heavy.

E: Did other people notice or were you hiding it?

W: Yeah the final rehearsal was luckily not with an audience, but my teachers were like “Everything alright?” and I was like “Yeah I’m good. It’s a bit much”. But when it comes to stress, a lot of people always say – I’m even a little stressed right now actually.

E: Really?

W: Podcasts, oh no no.

E: Oh shit. You have to be (stressed)

W: A lot of pressure on my shoulder here. No, but a lot of people say that it doesn’t look like that I’m stressed even though I really am dying from all the stress.

E: Only now you can hide it really well. You should become an actor.

W: A lot of people have said that to me often, but it’s not my interest. Also not much work in the field.

E: That too, fuck. Are you someone who constantly pretends like you’re okay?

W: Yes.

E: Even when you have a lot of shit going on in your head and you’re processing other things?

W: I'm one person. One person?

E: "I'm one person" [laughs]

W: I am one person. No, but I'm someone who often keeps their stuff to themselves, so that I can listen to what others need.

28:15

E: That was my next question. You listen more to other people’s problems and you’re the person people come to with their problems?

W: I think, at least I hope, that a lot of my friends do know that they can always come to me for a talk or a phone call. I'm someone that will shove away their happiness for someone else, which isn’t always positive of course.

E: It is a beautiful characteristic, but it shouldn’t take over indeed.

W: In the past it has happened that I was falling apart, but I kept pushing it away, because I wanted to take care of someone else. I noticed this a lot during the divorce of my parents. My parents had a hard time with the divorce and I remember that I came home as a little boy and I saw my mom sitting and I felt the duty to comfort her and to be there for her, even though I was 8 or 9 years old. That’s not something you expect to do or think from an 8 year old. It really broke me and now I can openly speak about it, because I have had enough conversations with my parents about it, about how it was for me. And I made a play about it, as I told earlier, so it’s been a whole process and that has scarred me till at least my 16th. My parents got divorced when I was 5 or 6 years old. It took me a long time to open up because of that. I notice it a lot in previous relationships, that I walk away from fights, because I would find the confrontation too heavy to get into a fight and to discuss. The divorce and fights with my parents scarred me so hard that I didn’t want that again. I wanted everything to be rainbow and sunshine, but life doesn’t work like that. And that was partly a misconception from me, that I thought that a relationship had to be perfect, if there is a fight, then it’s not going well. Now I realize that fights are part of a relationship. And also part of steps you take into accepting each other, listening to each other and understanding each other. It’s needed for a stronger connection. You can’t, well you can, but in my eyes you can’t be with someone for a long time without ever having had a conflict. Even if it’s a discussion, because then you’re adapting too much to the other, and then you say okay, I’m adapting to the demands of her and I suppress my own things or things I want to do, only to avoid the discussion, and that’s something I learned. And that’s how everyone learns their own things along the way.

E: You still see it in the youth, those romantic movies, where everyone is so in love and it always ends with a kiss or something and it’s always good and then you think, this must be the case in real life. Why can’t I find Gabriella Montez for my Troy Bolton. Even though that was a shitty relationship too, they were constantly fighting. No, but that gives a wrong image about relationships and for other things because of movies. And the reality is just different.

32:16

W: Yes. I recently for the first time -this is kinda embarrassing because it’s a must see- watched The Notebook.

E: Me too! What did you think?

W: It has been a few weeks ago. Or a few weeks, maybe 3 or something.

E: I watched it last weekend.

W: I almost cried.

E: Really?

W: I’m a really emotional person. I can really cry. I can really get lost in a movie. “No not the puppy, why?!” Those things, where I think "Willem, act normal". But no it was a beautiful movie.

E: Yeah I have a different opinion, because I just fell asleep. I fell asleep, because it all went so slow, it started so slow. I didn’t even watch the kiss in the rain scene.

W: The moment. It’s in literally every romantic movie. In the rain, it happens everywhere.

Ender: Yeah mate, it’s such a cliché actually, but yeah.

W: I bet you that they’re just standing there with a garden hose.

E: Definitely.

W: It can’t be that they’re waiting, “is it gonna rain today? We need to do that scene now”.

33:27

E: Checking the rain alarm while everyone is inside. There are definitely sprinklers there. It’s in a lot of romantic movies. Now that we’re talking about it, the filming you did with wtFock, you sometimes had scenes outside. Here we have those (light) spots, I assume that you don’t carry them outside. How do you guys do that?

W: Sometimes we do have spots outside, but as long as the light from the sun is okay – with a binocular (telescope), well it’s not a binocular, it’s a round thing you can look through and with it they can determine the brightness of the sun and if the sun is too bright for the lightning they need, then it gets shielded, the same that is in front of your lamps. With that they can dim the lights. Or when there is not enough they use isomo plates, that’s really weird. Sometimes there are really intimate scenes in a series where it looks like it’s really close to the skin of the actors. There is a camera with a plate on it and a stick for the sound above it, it sometimes made it really hard for me to focus, because everyone is sitting there and the director and I’m like “yeah, okay okay”. So it takes a lot to get it all professional.

E: Was there a crazy moment where you forgot your lines? That you’re laying in bed and you’re like “which sentence do I have to say now?”

W: Yeah we’ve definitely had a lot of bloopers. Yeah forgetting lines or.. the thing is, as long as the director doesn’t say cut, you have to keep going. It’s a matter of "how do I improvise myself around this scene to get to the point we actually have to get to", because you have a scene and you have your lines, but if you forget something, then you do know the main lines of where the scene has to go to. You know the scene will end in a kiss or something and these subjects will be spoken about in the conversation, so when you forget your lines, you try to work your way through it as best as possible. And when the director says it wasn’t good, then we’ll do it again. I’ve had a lot of moments where I forgot my lines and I was laying in bed with Willem and we would look at each other and we’d know that I had to say something, but I was stuck, so there would be a 10 seconds silence, hoping for them to say cut. Yeah so those kinds of moments a lot or moments where I… I also had that with Déjà Vu. I remember… by the way it was amazing to work together with such big names as Natali Broods and Koen De Graeve. And Koen, lovely person, was kind of the father figure on set and we had a scene, next to the bed, a quite emotional scene. And the camera was focused on me, close up on my face. And I still remember that, the sound was going, everything, and Koen had just told a joke, or made a face that made me laugh. So, I had to laugh really hard, but I had to act very sad. It was an intense scene of goodbyes. All the time, starting to laugh about everything. I still remember for wtFock we made a video with bloopers and those are very fun to watch back.

37:03

E: Are those bloopers ever published somewhere online?

W: I don’t think so.

E: I think if you’d be able to release them somewhere that a lot of people would be interested in them.

W: Yes, yes. I don’t know why, indeed. The fans would be happy with those.

E: I think a lot of people- because we were just talking about your biggest fan.

W: My biggest-

E: Your grandma.

W: My grandma, yes. Big shout out to my grandma.

E: Do you think she’s watching right now?

W: She’ll definitely watch, I hope so.

E: What’s your grandma’s name?

W: Micheline.

E: Micheline, thank you very much for watching Micheline.

W: Micheline.

E: I appreciate it.

W: Women in power. She deserves a special place. No really, she follows all the fan accounts of wtFock. And then sometimes, or very often, we call and she gives me an update of what’s being said on the internet. Or yes, I also remember, when scenes come out and there’s things being said and she’s like "Willem, is that true, what are they saying?" And I say "Grandma, it’s nothing, it’s all from the show." "Ah okay, okay." So yes, very sweet grandma. She’s like the grandma where everything was allowed. I think that’s the same for everyone. At home, there are a lot of rules, and then you got to sleepover at your grandma’s and it was like: "Oh, I get to stay up later, and she made pudding for me." Her vanilla pudding-

E: That good?

W: Grandma, if you’re seeing this, please make some vanilla pudding when I visit.

E: Dude, everything’s falling out of my pocket.

W: You’re letting everything fall out of your pocket? Maybe you need to buy another pair of pants.

E: The chair is too comfortable that I’m kind of sinking in it, and now I constantly get-

W: The conversation’s too comfortable-

E: It’s just my phone, it’s vibrating, I think it just vibrated out of my pocket. So, silent, great. Eh, what were we talking about? About your grandma.

W: About my grandma.

38:46

E: Now, totally different subject. If you were a fish, what color fish would you be?

W: A fish?

E: Which color do you identify most with?

W: Eh.

E: And you’re a fish too of course.

W: Identify with which color. The thing is, I’m in the scouts. And in the Jins, that’s the last year before you become a leader, we were given a color totem, and the whole group decided on a color that fits you.

E: All right.

W: And mine was mango orange.

E: Wow, that’s cool.

W: Yeah, I thought it was cool too. And it means, if I have to think back, mango has quite a hard peel, relatively, but the fruit itself is quite soft. And that refers to my personality. I’m someone that lets people in fast, around me, but in the beginning, suspicion is a little strong, but kind of like, testing. Let’s say that. But once- From the outside I might look a bit hard. A lot of people say that when I have my straight face-

E: Resting bitch face.

W: That I’m angry. I was once told on the subway by a dude, and I was just listening to music, staring in the distance, and I think, suddenly a dude comes up to me, in French: "C’est quoi ton problème, heh, tu regardes come ça, c’est quoi ton problème." And I was like: "I’m sorry". Apparently, I was looking in his direction with my-

E: Bitch face.

W: Bitch face. He must have thought I was looking for problems. So yeah, that’s why the mango, a little hard on the outside, but once you get to know me better, a soft, sweet boy. So that’s why, orange. So, an orange fish then.

E: A little bit of Nemo vibes.

W: Yes, Nemo then. But let’s, what’s that theory. Did you hear that?

E: Theory?

W: About Nemo.

E: What’s the theory?

W: Haven’t you heard that? I keep seeing that online. I’m having a crisis. So the thing is, your childhood will get ruined.

E: Fuck man.

W: The thing is-

E: But there really are, no keep going, I have something I want to say afterwards.

W: The thing is, I’ve heard, that Nemo is Latin for nobody, and that the father is imagining that he still has an egg left, but that that fish doesn’t actually exist.

E: Oh fuck.

W: And that Dory joins him, and he sees, we’re actually not looking for anyone, but because he has memory issues, he constantly forgets that they’re not looking for anyone. So, they’re actually looking for nobody. And I saw that online and I was like.

E: Damn, so all the eggs are eaten, but he imagines that someone still has to be there.

W: Yes, something to keep living for.

E: Fuck man, that’s very brutal. That’s very fucked up.

W: Sorry to everyone for who Nemo is ruined now.

E: There’s a similar theory about Phineas and Ferb, and then Candice, their sister, is based on a true story about a girl that lost her brothers and still imagines that they're still doing stuff in the garden. And she keeps telling her mom: "Look, look, they are still here, they’re doing that." And that the mom says: "They’re not there." And that’s why she can never see that. You get it? Brutal right?

W: My whole childhood is ruined. Fucking hell.

E: That’s going to be the title of this podcast.

W: Childhood ruined.

E: We’re ruining your childhood.

42:17

W: We’re ruining your childhood. No but that’s good because, thankfully, I have a half-sister, but I say sister because I think half-sister is an ugly word, of seven years old. She thinks she’s 16. She’s a real diva.

E: Oh wow, okay.

W: She’s very, I’ll tell you a story later, but the thing is, I experience all those things with her again. In the beginning it was like, turning the tv on, Bumba, again. And I could secretly watch with her without feeling guilty. I was like, I’m watching Bumba and secretly I’m enjoying it, but sssh, I’m just watching it with my sister.

E: That exactly.

W: And now it’s Ketnet, like Hoodie, those series that she’s watching. And yes, I notice that because of all the technology today, she has an iPad, she’s on YouTube, she’s watching those self-made crafts.

E: 7 years old?

W: 7 years old, yes.

E: Wow.

W: She watches those- where people are playing with Barbies and they make a little play with them online on YouTube and they do stuff. Yes, a tablet. She has an iPad that’s bigger than her head. That makes me think- well, an iPad is usually bigger than everyone’s head. Or well, almost.

E: Not if you have a mini of course.

W: Her head isn’t that big.

E: Okay.

W: She’s on it a lot though. But she’s a real diva. I think the best story I have, there’s multiple. I remember the story, we were sitting at the table and she was having another moment of "I’m the princess, and everyone can leave because I do what I want and fuck you all". But the thing is, there’s five kids at home. I have a brother and two stepbrothers. So, she has four brothers, and she knows very well that she has four brothers. And that makes her feel even more like she’s the princess at home. So, we were sitting at the table. And she kept staring at my dad like this while throwing her cutlery on the ground. Like "what are you going to do". And my dad was like: "Liv," because her name is Liv by the way, "stop that."

E: That wasn’t nice of Liv. (Liv sounds the same as lief which means nice in Dutch.)

W: No. Not nice of-

E: Haha. Sorry.

W: Badam pam ts. Can’t we put that under here. Yes.

E: No, sorry, keep going.

W: So, he was like: "Liv, stop that, stop that." He started to get annoyed, because she kept going. "Liv, what is so hard to understand about no." And then it got silent at the table so I thought, okay, it’s done. The o.

E: Oh wow.

W: 7 years old and she drops that.

E: Oh wow.

W: And I thought, okay.

E: Damn bro.

W: The o. That she even dares to say that. Yeah, and she has those moments. She was sitting at the table, with her mask on, eating. So, she pulled her mask down to eat, and then she was chewing with her mask on. And then I asked: "Liv, why are you wearing your mask?" "Yes, you came back from Ghent, you’re not in my bubble."

E: Okay, okay.

W: So, then I said: "Okay, that’s fine." It’s crazy how that goes around among young children. Because my sister came back home from school crying once. And I asked her: ‘Liv, what’s wrong?’ "Yes, my friends didn’t let me play with them." So, I was like: "Why?" "Margot says I’m not allowed in her bubble."

E: Oh wow.

W: See, that’s becoming the new- we played with Pokémon cards on the playground and now it’s about playing games in bubbles because it’s so-

E: Damn.

W: Yes, you’re only allowed to have four people in your bubble so we don’t play with more than four.

E: Oh wow.

W: So I found that kind of crazy, or confronting that it made me think like, even at such a young age it has an impact. And I know that the-

E: That it leaves an impression.

W: Yes, and I know that my dad-

E: It’s sad that children have to think about it.

W: Yes, exactly.

E: Well, it’s not that- everyone should think about it of course.

W: Yes, yes, of course. It’s also that I know the way my dad feels about raising, that he tells Liv straight up about things that are happening in the world. He doesn’t make things seem nicer, or saying, eh, yes, no, but that’s- The classic story of how babies are made, with the cauliflowers, and what not.

E: I also just think-

W: How am I going to explain that to my kids?

E: If you don’t make it a taboo to start with, is it that bad? It’s just- it’s just. Oh well, that’s a whole other conversation.

W: Yes, no, definitely.

E: But straight up just telling what’s going on to your kids. I think I would prefer that to making up a story about the flowers and the bees.

W: Yes, yes.

E: Because the story about the flowers and the bees, I don’t even know how you actually- pollinating and stuff, is that what that means?

W: You do it like this, pollinating.

E: Yes, no, exactly.

W: Yes, but well, children, that’s still a long time from now.

E: Do you want kids, you think, later?

W: Yes, please.

E: Do you think you would be a good father?

W: I hope I would be a good father. Despite my parents’ divorce, I really do… I do look up to my parents. I’m proud of the way they raised me. So yeah if I would be a good father… sometimes, but maybe that’s the age, kids frustrate me. I’m a leader in the scouts for the Welpen and Welpen -great guys- but they can also be annoying and say “I’m not participating” and “that’s a stupid game, can we do something else?” and I’m like “we invest so much time in this and so much preparation, please participate” so sometimes that bothers me. But I would prefer not to have just one (child). Certainly more than one because… are you an only child?

E: No I have a little brother.

W: Yeah only child… with all due respect to people who are only children but sometimes I think… for example, I’m very happy that I have a brother. Not that it wouldn’t be fun without a brother per se, but I don’t know, the contact I have with my brother is nice.

E: The thing is, you don’t know what you’re missing so it’s hard to miss it I guess. But I do think that my brother has been a great added value to my life.

W: Yeah, yeah.

E: In the same way, I never really had grandparents. They all died before I was born and the grandfather I did have was quite old when I was actually aware that I had a grandfather. So I’ve never really had the grandparents experience that you see with family gatherings and stuff. But I don’t feel like I’ve missed anything but I still know how much other people benefit from having grandparents. Also what you just said about how often you call each other and stuff. I think that’s the same with being an only child. If you don’t have any brothers or sisters, you don’t know what it’s like to have that, what you’re missing. But if you do have it, it’s an added value I think.

W: Yes, exactly. No that’s true. My brother is very helpful to me now. I know that I can count on him.

E: Older or younger by the way?

W: Older.

E: A lot older?

W: 21.

E: 21.

W: Oh boy I had to think about how old my brother is. Embarrassing. Love you man. No but we had - maybe you had that too – but when we were younger, we really fought.

E: Physical?

W: Real fighting. Yeah, it’s has now gotten much better. I think we understand each other a lot better, but it used to be real… we had Catch WW on the Wii and we reenacted that on the couch so that was… “In the right corner Ramy Stereo” and we were bare-chested and both had one boxing glove on and fighting each other until one of us cried, bled or gave up. Usually it was me.

E: That’s just the fate of the little brother.

W: I always went… I’ve never admitted that actually, [whispers] it’s a confession. I’ve never admitted it, but afterwards I always went to my parents and cried “Kwinten hurt me”.

E: That’s really… that’s the moment, you feel it coming and you think “ah fuck no, if I hit again it’s probably over but I want to…” [cross-talk] “no no no don’t tell mom! Don’t tell mom!” I think I was a pretty nice big brother. We often did shit together. We were at home playing on the couch together and Olaf bumps into a large box that was standing there and the box, bigger than Olaf back then, fell down on his hand.

W: Oh shit.

E: So Olaf broke his hand. And I thought “I made him jump over those chairs” and then you have to say “sorry sorry don’t tell them, don’t tell them!” but yeah if your hand is fucking broken, you’re not gonna stop crying because your big brother says “don’t cry”. Yeah, that are…

W: Yes, but the relationship [between Willem and his brother] has improved. Okay we still have our discussions but... I think moments like when we’ve both been to a pub or something and we come home at the same time and we’re always hungry and standing in the kitchen making sandwiches. Those are great moments. I don’t necessarily need to have emotionally heavy of deep conversations with my brother to know that he’s there and that I can have a good time with him. So I think that’s the added value of having a brother or brothers in general.

E: Do you guys also have a specific sense of humor? Or like those moments when the two of you are laughing and your parents or people around you think “what the fuck is going on?”

W: Yeah we speak some slang to each other for fun. Like “stu stu” and [my slang knowledge is very limited so I have no idea what he’s saying here lol], those kinds of things. Typical slang from Brussels and Leuven. It’s funny because my parents are always like “why are you talking to each other like that?” and recently, I was leaving and my mom said “stu stu!” so they are adopting those words and then my brother and I can’t stop laughing.

E: Also if your mom suddenly says “are we going to chill later?” and I’m like [laughing] “what? Mom!”

W: “Okay??”

E: It’s kind of cute. Yeah it’s fun. And what are… I almost want to go deep like…

W: That’s okay.

E: Is there a particular interaction or experience you’ve had with your brother that sums up your relationship right now? Or are those the moments when you’re laughing and eating at night? It doesn’t have to be a super deep or emotional moment.

W: I think it’s an accumulation of those moments and emotional moments too. For example, after it was over with my ex. I was really down back then, it hit me pretty hard. Those are the moments when I can walk into my brother’s room in the middle of the night and he’s there for me. I know that dude is always going to be there when something’s wrong, no matter how much we argue or how much we shit at each other. I just know, and I hope he does too, that I can call him 24/7, walk into his room 24/7 and he will be there or ready to listen. I think that’s just something… the fact that we know that about each other, that creates that bond. And the thing is, if only he would do his best and go to work, earn real money… because we went on holiday together and he still hasn’t… he still has some work to do but we’ve already planned something. I’m really looking forward to it. We’re planning to go surfing in Portugal together. Those are moments I just know I can go somewhere with him and have the time of my life without-

E: …That you can remember for the rest of your life what you did together.

W: Yeah, absolutely. Those moments that I want to cherish or want to keep or experience.

E: My little brother is also just the most annoying dude on this planet who I love the most.

W: Exactly that combination. Annoying, but you love them.

E: Of course. The cameras are back on. That means we’ve been at it for over 50 minutes.

W: 50 minutes? It feels like we’re chatting for 20 minutes.

E: Exactly.

W: Pleasant.

E: That’s good. If it’s pleasant and the stress is gone.

W: Do you actually like me? “No I hate you. We’re going to finish. It has been good.”

55:29

E: No we’re not going to finish yet, but before we do, is there anything you’d like to send out into the world before we finish? On average there are 10 to 50 people watching. Is there anything you want to say to them?

W: To the 10 to 50 people?

E: Yes.

W: 10 to 50 people, you are awesome. No, what I’m saying… maybe a little deep but it doesn’t matter. Very often in your life you are going to encounter that you run into a wall, that you’re going to have setbacks, that you think “I don’t want to anymore, I can’t to this anymore, life is all one big shit show” but I think that there is a certain… at least I believe that – everyone has their own opinion of course- that a certain path has been mapped out for everyone. Not necessarily that things are set in stone but there is a road that you are going to take and that road is going to have curves, is going to have hills, is going to have valleys, is going to have everything. Maybe it’s a gravel path, maybe rocks you stumble over but -it sounds a bit stupid- put on your best walking shoes and just walk that path the best way you can. Just try to live life with complete joy and euphoria because you’re 100% worth it. No matter what other people say or think about your ideology or style or way of life. Everyone is entitled to it or should be given the opportunity to be appreciated for who they are. I think that’s something we do too little in this society, but yeah.

E: Just don’t be too hard on yourself in the end?

W: Yeah, don’t be too hard on yourself. A lot of people blame themselves too much. Or “oh I’m like that and I don’t fit in because of that” or something. Then I think: so be it.

E: Do you sometimes feel that you should do more or have achieved more at this age? Of course you’re already doing a lot of cool shit but social media, I know there is a highlight reel of all people’s achievements and that sometimes it’s very difficult to filter between what is real and how much is that person actually sitting on the couch doing nothing. Do you sometimes feel that because of social media of because of your environment or I don’t know, that you’re not doing enough?

W: Gosh, sometimes I think my life is too full.

E: Too full?

W: Not that I’m saying “oh I have so many things to do” but I’m like... I’m letting that grow organically or so.

E: Not putting too much pressure on yourself?

W: Not putting too much pressure on yourself. I’m doing a course now that I’d like to finish because I’ve had those two projects and there are friends of mine who say “why are you still studying? You’ve had your opportunity, you’re going to get new opportunities right?” and I say “hey! I’m also only 19”. Sometimes I think “fuck Willem you should have achieved more already” but I also think I’m only 19. There was a conversation at school… I really think that’s one of the added values of the course. We receive an observation report twice a year, 5 pages where the teacher writes about you and how they see you, what they think about you, what your qualities are, what you still need to work on. It’s always spot on. So strange how they can just see right through you, even though I sometimes try to hide it. Yeah, where was I going with this… we had subsequent conversation about it and I said to my teacher “sometimes I feel like I’m too young for this course” that I have too little life experience. There are people in my class who are in their 20s or older, who have already studied something else before this, have read a lot more, seen a lot more than me, a lot more experience and I think “fuck, I don’t have anything”. People talk about certain topics and I don’t follow at all. I mentioned that I felt too young and she [the teacher] said “you’re young, but that also has its advantages. Your youthfulness can actually be an interesting tool in this course and look at it from a different perspective”. So I’m convinced: don’t be too hard on yourself, don’t think “whew, I’m already 20 and I haven’t achieved anything yet” so to speak. I even saw a video recently where… “if you don’t make it in your 20s, you might make it in your 30s and if you don’t make it in your 30s, you might make it in your 40s”. There are so many… there really are a lot of people… people often forget that there are people who only find out what they want to do or discover their passion later in life.

E: And also just… I think it’s so ridiculous that you set certain goals for a certain age or something. That it’s so expected that by 18 you must have completed high school and by 25 you must have had your first job interview, by 28/30 you must have a house and a serious relationship where you’re committed to for the rest of your life and by 40 you must have already had a promotion, that you can provide for yourself and fix your pension. All those fucking predetermined milestones. I think that’s kind of bullshit, you know?

W: Absolutely.

E: If that were the case, then I should graduate in a few years so to speak while I’m clearly not studying here because I have – fuck normally I have a re-exam today. And here we are.

W: Here we are.

E: I knew I was doing this but I mean that’s just… there’s so much time. I’m 22 now and I’m doing some shit, if I go nuts now or people don’t want to listen to this podcast anymore, don’t want to see what I do online, okay then I have to look elsewhere. But I did this and I went for it and I tried. I’m 22. Even if I go nuts now and it’s all gone, I’m only 22. There are still so many ways it could go. A lot of people don’t have a job at 22. If I started looking for a new job or something now, hopefully I’ll have one by 25. Then it’s still okay because I’m only 25. I don’t know, I always find that… I could go on for a long time about this. I think those predetermined milestones/goals of things that you must have achieved by a certain age, I just think it’s bullshit.

W: I sometimes make the comparison that people too often see life as the sports world. Football players who are good until 35 and then they are done. As if you must have already performed before that age. That’s not how it works. You really have all the time and you really don’t have to stress. I also notice that many people… you mentioned re-exams. That people say “fuck I have re-exams, oh no I’m not going to pass, oh no you have extra…” chill. You do your best, but suppose you have to repeat a year, that’s not a disaster either, is it?

E: What I also think is crazy is how many people have studied law and you eventually hear that they ended up in a marketing agency because they found it much more interesting. When I talk to some people who… I was seeing a social media manager recently [laughs] “seeing”, I was talking to him.

W: “seeing” okay [laughs].

E: I was talking to him.

W: [joking] Ender has something to say.

E: And I asked “what did you study?” and he said biochemistry. “How the fuck did you end up here?” Him: “uh yeah that just wasn’t the right fit for me. I have a master’s degree but I started working here because I found it much more interesting”. I thought: why am I pretending that the degree I’m trying to get is going to determine the rest of my life, you know?

W: Absolutely.

E: If there are so many people now… because he was only 28 or something. So I thought “aah okay so you’ve been studying biochemistry for so many years and now you’re here – I don’t know if I’m talking about the correct position – but now you’re just sitting here making content. Cool. But why do I attach so much importance to that one direction I’m studying right now that doesn’t even have anything to do with media or anything. I mean I’m very interested in media, I’m studying economics. Which is also interesting, but that’s not what I see myself doing in the coming years.

W: Yeah, yeah.

E: Anyway enough about me. Do you think you could win in a fight against a cow?

W: [laughs] I really like that. You can switch to totally different shit like that. Like before you suddenly asked what color fish do you want to be. Okay. That’s nice. Win… I’ve heard if you knock over a cow it dies. That it has a heart attack then. We don’t want to kill cows okay!

E: And purely hypothetical, you’re just standing in a kind of meadow so it’s not super big so you can’t go in all directions. There is a limited domain. You come face to face with that cow and you have to begin. No weapons. You’re standing there and the cow stands there and you both know you’re going to fight.

W: It knows that too?

E: It knows that too.

W: [makes mooing noises] okay ca va.

E: It’s not a bull but it does have horns so in fact it would-

W: I would shit my pants. I’d give up already. I would lie on the ground, come on. Really crazy, I saw Jackass recently. Those guys, that Wee Man, who was in that link with the bull and he’s being catapulted, so to speak.

E: I don’t understand how those guys aren’t all dead yet.

W: Yeah they are really crazy.

E: There was also a rumor that Wee Man died from a bowling ball during… but apparently that wasn’t true.

W: I don’t know.

E: Fucked up shit. Would you win against a cow?

W: Would I win against a cow? No, I wouldn’t win against a cow. I don’t think I would win against a cow.

E: I think I would. I think just like with a bull I would try to jump out of the way like that and once you’re on the side it’s just a matter of pushing. If what you said is true, it’s game over when it’s down and you know, that’s your tactic.

W: But the thing is, a cow is heavy, isn’t it?

E: True.

W: You can’t just push it over like that, can you?

E: Sure, but it’s a matter of life or death, isn’t it? The adrenaline rush. You have to image, a cow just comes running towards you. The adrenaline that goes through your body. You shouldn’t underestimate the power you have then.

W: Just find the best patch of grass and when it’s there, sneaky knife in the back. No, now people are going to think I’m that kind of person.

E: That you’re just a snake.

W: Snake. Definitely and I admit it. No, that would be fucked up.

E: I’m going to do one more thing that’s important. I’m going to find a Twitter shout out and in the meantime, I already asked you what your message is to the world and that was a beautiful message. Got something more banal that you’d like to share? Something that you want to share from your social media or something?

W: What do you mean from social media?

E: Where they can follow you. You can say something if you have a really good video that you want to share. “Check me everywhere”.

W: No I don’t have… people should do what they feel like doing. Do you think I’m cool, do you think I’m fun, follow me on Insta. No really doesn’t matter. Doesn’t really matter.

E: Alright, I’m just going to scroll and you say stop. I’ll go back and forth and you have to say “yes that’s the one who gets to have this week’s shout out”.

W: Exciting huh. Stop.

E: [reads twitter account] M. Verschuren.

W: M. Verscheure.

E: Is that…

W: [reads quote] “If you were never sad, you wouldn’t know you could be happy”.

E: Wow. Damn bro.

W: I’m going to edit my quote.

E: “If you were never sad, you wouldn’t know you could be happy”. Wow. If you didn’t have shitty days, you wouldn’t know what the best days of your life were.

W: Exactly. But what if you get stuck in your shitty days for the rest of your life?

E: That won’t happen. That’s my biggest fear.

W: Me too.

E: Looking back at your life and thinking-

W: …Fuck I’ve never been there again.

E: …That’s where I peeked. Hope that doesn’t happen. Anyway M. Verscheure thank you very much for listening, I really appreciate it. You as well, I think?

W: Absolutely, absolutely. How much were you going to pay me?

E: 50 euro.

W: Then I’ll come… awesome. Super cool.

E: Thank you so much to everyone who listened. I appreciate it. If you want to hear more you can always subscribe to this channel. It’s also good for my ego. I’ll just put your Instagram link in the description, for people who are interested. Okay, that was it.

W: Thanks, it was fun.

E: There’s an audio only episode on Spotify every Sunday and the video comes out on Monday. That’s it. See you next Monday. Or Sunday. Peace.

#wtfock #willem de schryver

224 notes · View notes

skzsauce01 · 4 years ago

Text

Bird Is the Word

Synopsis: A series of drunk texts leads to one of the best and worst things that has ever happened to you. Or, Han Jisung is never going to let you forget the time you forgot the word ‘bird.’ College AU. Not a text fic but does include some texts.

Warning: alcohol, a lot of bird puns

Word Count: 8.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x Han Jisung

2:23 AM [Me]: sOS SOS SOS SOSOSOS 2:23 AM [Me]: I NEED HELPPPP 2:23 AM [Jisung Bio]: You okay?? 2:23 AM [Me]: YOU SMART HELPPPPP

2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you want me to call the police?? 2:24 AM [Me]: WHAT ARE THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP CALLED 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Is this a code word? 2:24 AM [Me]: THEY GO FLAP AND EAT SEEDS 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you mean birds? 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you drunk?

2:25 AM [Me]: [blurry_photo_of_your_window.jpg] 2:25 AM [Me]: HERE LOOK 2:25 AM [Me]: YES BIRDS 2:25 AM [Me]: THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH 2:25 AM [Me]: LOVE YOUUUUU

In your defense, you were drunk. And when you are drunk, your critical thinking skills disappear and are replaced by pure, uninhibited stupidity. It’s like some twisted Jekyll and Hyde situation, but only when you drink, you transform into this other version of yourself instead of suppressing it.

You mostly remember the things you have done and said while under the influence. The most embarrassing ones tend to be fuzzy. If it weren’t for the grainy phone video taken by Seungmin and your own voice cheerfully declaring that you had an idea, you wouldn’t have realized that you were the idiot who tried to make a chalk mural at the four-way intersection in the middle of the night. You didn’t even have chalk, but that didn’t stop you from drawing on the asphalt with a broken pen you found on the sidewalk.

Good thing Seungmin had the foresight to drag you back to the crosswalk before a car could come speeding by.

However, that legendary act of idiocy doesn’t even compare to this new one. Forget the fact that you could have died.

Your biology class just went over survival of the fittest using Darwin’s finches as an example. How in the world did you forget about the word ‘bird?’ Why did you think it was a good idea to ask the cute guy in your bio study group about “THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP?” And why, why, why did you insist on telling him that you loved him? The ‘THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH’ was already enough.

Jisung is never going to let you live this down.

It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s not like you spent the entire Sunday morning knocking back glasses of water and wishing it was vodka instead. It’s not like you drafted about five different apology messages and deleted them all. It’s not like you have to see him in class tomorrow.

Really, you’re fine.

You go out of your way to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, which probably means you are very conspicuous. Do normal people not wear hoodies and sweatpants to class now, or are you just overthinking everything? The two people in the row in front of you are wearing jeans, and the girl heading down your row has a polka-dotted dress on. A secondary glance at the girl tells you that it’s another member of your study group. Speaking of the study group, maybe you should find another one. Preferably one without Jisung in it.

“Morning,” Lia says as she takes the seat beside you. She sets down her purple water bottle on the floor with a light clink. “How was your weekend?”

Terrible, but you say, “It was fine. I finished up the readings and did some notes. How about you?”

“Those readings took me forever!” she groans. “I was trying to finish everything on Saturday, so I could go out on Sunday. Which I did manage to do, so it all worked out. I got a new dress!” She plucks at the bodice of her dress, and you finally take a closer look at the pattern.

They’re not polka dots. They’re freaking birds — swoopy doves with outstretched wings. Or at least you think they’re doves. Your lack of bird knowledge speaks for itself.

“It’s pretty,” you hollowly say. The universe seems determined to remind you of your texts. Lia’s face falters, and you realize your disdain came across as you lying. “No, it’s not like that! Just… bad experiences with birds. You look really nice in this.”

She brightens up. “Oh, thanks! What do you mean by ‘bad experiences?’ What happened?”

“Good morning, birdbrain!”

“That happened.”

Looking far too happy for a Monday morning, Jisung takes the other seat beside you. He has a cup of coffee stacked high with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle, and you wonder if his extreme cheerfulness is from the caffeine or from your impending public humiliation. Why did you have to pick this guy to have a crush on? Sure, he’s cute and smart and sometimes nice, but there are plenty of people who have those traits without his witticism.

Lia looks at you with more amusement than concern. “So what happened?”

You tell her about what really happened during the weekend, and Jisung laughs all the while, reenacting his facial expression when he received your first frantic SOS message. Meanwhile, you sink lower and lower into your chair, ignoring your tailbone’s cries of pain as you slide further down the thin cushion.

“You can’t hide forever,” Jisung remarks as he looks at your slumping form. “C’mon, it wasn’t that bad. And you were drunk anyway.”

Yeah, you were, but the whole thing is doubly embarrassing because of how much you want him to like you. The overenthusiastic, all-caps messages are normal whenever you text while drunk, but ‘I love yous’ and the even rarer ‘I LOVE YOUUUU’ are few and far between. Only six people excluding Jisung have received them: your parents, your best friend, and your statistics group project members because you accidentally sent the message to the wrong chat.

On the bright side, seven is a lucky number. It means absolutely nothing in this case, and it’s hardly relevant to how you’re feeling, but everyone copes differently. Yours just happens to be clinging onto any silver lining available for solace.

“Anyway,” Lia cuts in, saving you from replying, “you’re here early, Jisung.”

He shrugs and flashes her a playful smile. However, his eyes are focused on you when he says, “You know what they say: early bird gets the worm.”

You give him a pitiful attempt of a withering glare. “I hate you.”

“Okay, fine.” He tugs at the shoulder of your hoodie to motion for you to stop trying to melt into the ground and to help you up. “It’s ‘cause I knew you would be here early.”

You are calm, you are fine, you will not be flustered. He just teased you five seconds ago; you should not be this willing to forgive him under these circumstances. Nonetheless, you slide back up to a more normal sitting position and try to pretend that you are still mildly upset. His next sentences make that impossible.

“You guys want brownies? Felix was stress-baking again.”

One may call you easily swayed by food, and they would be right. Jisung lets you have a coveted corner piece, and you decide that he’s alright again. He stretches an arm in front of you to get to Lia, and you lean back to avoid bumping into him. It also gives you a clear view of his profile. Wow, is he pretty. Look at that jawline. Suddenly his eyes go wide, and his mouth splits into a familiar excited grin.

“Are those birds?”

“Yep,” Lia answers, looking over at you to check your reaction. She tries to hide her smile, but it’s clear as day. You’re not entirely sure what she’s going to say next, but you already know it’s going to involve your current least favorite animal species. “Pretty… dove-ly, don’t you think?”

At least you were right about them being doves. “I hate you both.”

Jisung laughs at her pun and holds out his palm for a high-five. “You know what they say: birds of a feather flock together.”

“I really hate you both.”

Your initial prediction that Jisung is never going to let you live this down is correct. When you meet your bio group again Thursday night to study for the upcoming quiz, Jisung brings lemon poppy seed muffins for seemingly no other reason than to tease you. His housemate is still stress-baking, and judging by the bird silhouette made of glaze, Felix is very stressed and very eager to indulge in Jisung’s ideas.

“They’re finches!” Jisung proudly announces as he sets one right in front of you. The stupid decoration on top mocks you, but the muffin looks and smells delicious.

Hyunjin, who does not know about your current plight but does know about Darwin’s finches, appreciatively coos at them. “They’ve even got different beak shapes! These are so cool. Man, Felix must hate econ right now.”

“No kidding,” you mutter as you begin peeling off the wrapper. Felix must hate you as well because one bite of this is almost enough for you to forgive Jisung again. It’s that good. How are you supposed to stay mad at Jisung when he gives you free delicious food? “Forget college, he needs to be in culinary school.”

He smirks from across the table, and it takes a lot of willpower for you to pretend you’re unphased. “What if I told you that I made these?”

“Then I would call you a liar.” He better be lying. You do not need another reason to justify your crush on him.

“And you would be right.” He slides his plastic container down to Lia, who has just arrived and is eyeballing the muffins like a predator. “But I did help him.”

“It’s really good,” you admit. You continue nibbling on it, determined to make the muffin last as long as you can. “What part did you help him out with?”

“The birds on top. Turns out drawing them with runny glaze is hard. I gave you the prettiest one, so don’t get mad about the whole bird thing. It goes with what we’re studying too.”

“Fine,” you sigh as you fold the wrapper into halves over and over again. “But only because these are amazing.”

Hyunjin leans in closer, effectively popping the intimate bubble you and Jisung were in. “What’s ‘the bird thing?’”

Fortunately, Yeji has finally arrived, which gives you the perfect excuse to stop Jisung from letting another person know of your drunk texts. You make a big production of pulling out your notebook from your backpack and rifling through your pencil bag for a pen.

“Should we get started?” you ask. Lia nods and uncaps one of her many highlighters.

“I’ll tell you later,” Jisung whispers to Hyunjin, winking at you. You could cry, melt, die. You could do a lot of things, but you opt to stick your tongue out at him. So what if you’re being childish? You can barely concentrate on the real world after that wink. To Yeji, he says, “There’s snacks, if Lia hasn’t eaten them all yet.”

“Hey!”

Hyunjin laughs at her notorious sweet tooth before turning to Yeji. “He gave Y/N the prettiest one, so there’s probably only his fails left.”

“They’re not bad!”

Lia has only had two, so there are more than enough to choose from. Yeji peers inside the container before selecting the one closest to her.

“Is this a plague doctor?” she asks as she suppresses a laugh. “It’s got a top hat.”

Jisung shakes his head and groans. “You chose the worst one on purpose. It’s one of Darwin’s finches. You would have known if you studied.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t draw.” Taking no notice of Jisung’s affronted expression, she takes out the textbook the five of you split the cost to buy. “Okay, plague doctor cupcakes out of the way, what are the four main theories of evolution?”

“They’re lemon poppy seed finch muffins,” he clarifies.

“That’s not an evolution theory,” Hyunjin cheekily replies, earning him an elbow nudge from Jisung and a laugh from everyone else.

You end up answering Yeji’s question and reward your correct answer with another muffin. Besides them being addictive, you’ll need some energy for the rest of the study session if all this talk about birds persists. You select the most plague doctor-ish one out of the box, and Jisung notices.

“Seriously?” he pouts. “I give you the best one, and this is how you repay me? I thought you said you weren’t mad about the bird thing.”

You ignore the last sentence. “What? You’re not proud of these?” you say, mock astonished as you give him a good view of the glaze on top. “They look exactly like plague doctors.”

“I hate you.”

You smile and shrug before returning back into the discussion about Lamarckism. Let him get a taste of his own medicine.

Unfortunately, as promised and as possible revenge, Jisung tells Hyunjin about ‘the bird thing,’ and Yeji overhears since she is only two chairs away. You try melting into the ground instead, but Lia holds you in place as the story continues, so you are stuck reliving the memory. You knew Jisung wouldn’t let you forget, but you didn’t account for everyone else in the group finding out and joining in on the torture.

But thanks to Jisung’s brilliant idea to bring those spectacularly decorated muffins, he doesn’t go unscathed either. It’s a mediocre consolation prize, but you’ll take it.

All around, it’s a productive study session, if a bit long, courtesy of everyone’s unrelenting shots at you and Jisung.

Your study group splits off in three separate directions once you’re all at the library entrance: Yeji back to the on-campus dorms where she’s an RA, Hyunjin and Lia to the off-campus apartments a few streets down, you and Jisung to the bus stop to your apartments on the other of campus. There’s a few people already sitting at the bench, so you and Jisung stand under the streetlight nearby. A moth intent on reaching the light source rams itself repeatedly against the glass covering, and you tiredly watch it. You yawn.

“Not much of a night owl?” he asks. With no clever reply ready, you gently shove him towards the bushes, but he only sways at your push. He throws his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’ll stop for today.”

“I’m really sorry for sending you that,” you say. You haven’t touched the chat between you and him since the incident. “And for not apologizing earlier.”

“It’s alright. Although I almost had a heart attack when you sent me ‘SOS’ like five times.”

You grimace as you remember your frantic texts. If you think back hard enough, you remember furiously tapping at your screen, trying to get his attention as quick as possible because you really, really, really needed to know what the animal that landed on your windowsill was called. Your housemate was in the next room over. You could have asked her instead, but no, you decided that Jisung from bio was the best option. Not even the group chat, just Jisung himself.

“Sorry again,” you weakly reply.

“It really is alright. Finding bird puns is my new favorite hobby now.” He wryly smiles. “I have so many more to try on you. You’re gonna love it.”

Is that endearing or annoying? Living rent-free inside his head isn’t terrible, especially since he seems to do the same in yours. You’ll probably have to endure lots more puns from him in the future, but for now, you’ll decide that it’s endearing.

The bus arrives, and you sit in the back with him. The ride to the apartment complex is quiet; only a group of people near the front are speaking to one another in low voices. Jisung makes no attempt at continuing the conversation, and you are content to stare out into the neon lights outside the window. You can see him in the reflection on the glass. The empty container devoid of muffins sits on Jisung’s lap, his phone placed face down on the lid. If it weren’t for all the other passengers on the bus, you would be convinced that it was just you and him, enjoying each other’s company.

You’re almost sad when you reach your stop.

“Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?” he asks as you step down to the pavement. “Yours is farther down, right?”

“Isn’t your place right here?” you say. You’ve seen him walk out from this particular complex several times while waiting for the bus. That’s not stalking. “You don’t have to go out of your way. It’s just a block away.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely walking you home.”

You hesitate a bit, but Jisung is already taking small steps in the direction of your apartment. A little more time with him doesn’t sound too horrendous right now. “Okay.”

Just like the bus ride, no conversation, which suits you fine. Jisung seems more enthralled by looking into the windows of apartment residents anyway. You can’t blame him, especially when it appears that someone is having their own mini rave in their living room. Once at the doors to your building, you thank him and tell him good night.

“No problem and good luck tomorrow.” His voice is softer at night, or maybe it’s because he’s tired as well.

Your tone matches his as well. “You too. See you in class then.”

“Good night.”

A few minutes after midnight, just as you’re about to get into bed, a message from Jisung pops up. Not Jisung in the study group, just Jisung.

12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Hey, I know you’re not much of a night owl, so would you call yourself a morning lark? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re always an early bird to class 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you emu-sed? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: :D

Well, he did say he would stop for the day. It’s technically the next day. You reply with an annoyed face before burrowing yourself under your blankets. There are other things to worry about, such as your quiz in nine hours.

You dream of birds, namely finches, that night. Thanks, Jisung.

“This is why I tell you to never drink alone,” Seungmin laughs. He picks up the last slice of pizza from the pan and folds it in half like the heathen he is before taking the first bite. “Bad things always happen.”

“To be fair, Ryujin was home.”

“In a completely different room from you.”

You groan and supplement your exasperation with an extra aggressive tear on your crust. “Okay, fine. I’ve learned my lesson. The point is, he won’t stop with the bird jokes, and I’m going insane.”

Seungmin, having been collateral damage from your drunken mishaps before, is unsympathetic. He still hasn’t quite forgiven you for the time you tried to make a Molotov cocktail in his kitchen. Look, the clickbait video you watched online promised that it would be a fun and easy science experiment, and your other self decided that it was a fantastic idea. Nothing bad happened in the end though since you couldn’t find a lighter. So, Seungmin, it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

“You have a crush on this guy. Why are you upset that he’s flirting with you?”

“He’s cute until he opens his mouth and starts giving me grief about birds.” You sigh as you remember the last text he sent: a photo of the sunset from his apartment window with the caption, A bird’s eye view of the neighborhood. On one hand, you were thrilled to have received a non-homework related picture. On the other hand, bird joke.

“You would do the same.”

“I know, but it still sucks.” You wipe your fingers with a napkin and amuse yourself with spinning the empty pan as Seungmin (slowly) finishes eating. “No more Jisung talk. How was your date?”

Seungmin turns flustered, just like you knew he would. “It wasn’t a date! I’m just her photographer. This is a business arrangement, nothing else.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Hey, is that Jisung over there?” he asks, nodding over your shoulder.

“I’m not that gullible,” you sigh, though you can’t say you aren’t tempted. Seungmin loves to make fun of you, and he probably wants to get back at you for teasing him about the girl he’s been spending a suspicious amount of time with.

“Gull-ible?”

“Not you too," you plead. It's already awful with one person. To deter him any further, you continue, "Anyway, back to your definitely-not-a-date date—”

“Hey, Y/N, is that you?”

Seungmin has his “I told you so” face on. After sending him a glare, which he promptly pretends not to see, you turn around, resting your forearm on the back of your chair. Jisung, holding a pan of oven-fresh pizza, smiles back at you.

“Hey,” you greet. He's wearing the same black and red sweatshirt he usually has on, but why does he look so much better in it when he's in a pizza place than in class or in the library? “How are you doing? How’s your Saturday so far?”

“I just woke up like an hour ago, so it’s been pretty good, I guess.” His eyes go to Seungmin, who is now sipping on his soda, pretending to not eavesdrop. “Is this your…”

“This is my friend, Seungmin,” you quickly answer. Other than the fact that you need to make it abundantly clear that you are available, there is no way you’re ever going to date Seungmin. Apart from the girl he claims to not be dating, he’s even more merciless when it comes to reminding you about your drunken ideas. You can’t pass the intersection without him nudging your arm. “Seungmin, this is Jisung. We have bio together.”

Seungmin nods like he hasn’t heard of Jisung before. “Hey, nice to meet you. So, do you guys learn about birds in bio?”

Jisung lights up like a Christmas tree, and you want to cover yourself with the pizza pan. Praying for the ground to swallow you up also sounds like a decent option. In the midst of debating whether hiding under the table would be too odd, you notice that Seungmin has finally finished his slice.

“We should get going,” you interrupt. You do not need Seungmin to start sharing other stupid things you’ve done. He’s about five seconds away from telling Jisung about the intersection chalk mural. “And you probably want to eat dinner.”

Jisung sees right through your act, but he lets it go. “Yeah, Felix is probably starving. See you on Monday?”

“Yeah, see you.”

You expect him to go to wherever Felix is, but he still remains behind you. With a lopsided grin, he asks, “Should I expect any quail-ity texts at 2 AM tonight?”

Seungmin laughs, Jisung laughs, and you stare at the ceiling, wondering what you did to deserve this. Surely there were other people you could have in your life besides these two jerks.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner!” Jisung sings as you correctly answer his question. This week’s study session consists of a game show Jisung has created, and you almost want to believe that he put in all this effort just to say that phrase. “Another point for you.”

You sigh as Yeji slides a wrapped piece of candy towards you. It’s her turn to bring snacks, and though milk chocolate the size of golf balls are great, you’re still dreaming of those wickedly delicious cake slices Jisung shared with you yesterday. Hummingbird cake, he claimed, it was called. Bananas, pineapples, and pecans, all combined together to make a sweet treat. When you cheekily asked why his housemate was so stressed all the time — you really don’t mind. Sorry, Felix — Jisung cheerfully informed you that he made the entire thing himself. After you picked up your jaw from the floor, you stammered something about it being passable. Not nearly as good as Felix’s stuff, you said, lying through your teeth. Jisung, again, saw right through it but let it slide. See? Sometimes he’s nice. However, you did not need another reason to be attracted to Han Jisung, but here you are.

“Seriously, Yeji?” you mumble as you pull apart the blue foil. “You just had to pick the brand named after a bird?” It doesn’t stop you from popping the chocolate into your mouth though.

“They were on sale!”

While you and Yeji bicker about Dove chocolate and how the universe is conspiring against you, Hyunjin answers the next question correctly. Yeji absentmindedly pushes his reward towards him.

“No chicken dinner for me?” he asks.

Jisung shakes his head. “Your question was easy. You get a pheasant instead. Or a quail. Any bird smaller than a chicken works.”

“A hummingbird then?” you suggest. You really need to stop thinking about that cake. “But I hear those aren’t that great.”

“You already ate every single crumb of that cake I gave you!” Jisung says, but there’s not a drop of displeasure in his tone. In fact, he seems rather happy that you liked it so much that you remembered about it. “All my hard work gone in five seconds.”

“You made her a cake?” Lia gasps in disbelief, secretive note checking forgotten. She’s in last place with only six points, so no one cares too much about her cheating. “What about us? We’re your study buddies too!”

Hyunjin and Yeji chorus their agreements, and you realize that he only shared his cake with you. He followed you out of the lecture hall and gave it to you in a plastic container, so you assumed that he also hand delivered a few slices to everyone else. Never mind that he oh-so-conveniently had a fork with him. Never mind that he sat with you at a bench and watched you try a few bites before devouring it all. Never mind all that.

Wait. Does this mean he likes you too?

You fold and unfold your discarded foil wrappers as you contemplate over this revelation, sneaking glances at Jisung all the while. He looks… normal. Infuriatingly so. Same carefree smile, same arguments with Hyunjin, same lackadaisical chair leaning even though he fell backwards that one time. How is one supposed to tell if someone actually likes you when said someone is the same all the time?

Jisung promises to bring something for the next study session to make up for not sharing his cake and continues on with the review game like nothing has happened. However, those thoughts are still in the back of your mind when the session ends. You have gained five more pieces of chocolate and no further information as to whether Jisung is actually into you or not. As per usual, you and he head to the bus stop together. It’s more crowded than last week since it’s only eight.

“Did you have a pheasant time today?” he asks, pausing next to a hedge.

You keep your eyes on the asphalt instead of looking at him. It’s much easier to pretend you’re calm when you don’t have vision of his face. “I see you discovered pheasants recently. And yes, it was fun. Thanks for making it.”

“You don’t want to crow about winning the game?” When you grimace — you did kind of want to point out how amazing your score was but now you don’t — he quickly adds, “Okay, okay. But you’re going to ace that quiz tomorrow.”

And you simply say, “I know,” because you are and because you have nothing else prepared to say.

It goes quiet, and with only the sounds of cars racing by, Jisung abruptly says, “This is a little awkward now. Or should I say… hawk-ward?”

You groan and break your staring contest with the road to give him an exasperated look. A mistake because he’s smiling so wide, squirrels would be jealous of his cheeks. He has no right to be so cute after those jokes. “Why do I feel like you searched up ‘bird puns’ online and are trying to insert them in every possible scenario?”

“Because I did and because I am.” He sighs in contentment. “Those were the best texts I’ve ever received. I’m never letting you forget it.”

You were right about that, and now you have verbal confirmation from the man himself. Another mediocre consolation prize you will gladly accept. But for now, you say, “Well, toucan play at that game, plague doctor Han Jisung.” The only perk of hearing all these wretched jokes is that you are now rather knowledgeable about them. Thank you, Seungmin, for making that one a few days ago.

“They looked just like finches!” he protests, but he’s laughing along, head tilted back. He sighs again. When he turns to face you again, his eyes are soft. “That was a pretty good one.”

“Seungmin came up with it.” There’s a warm feeling spreading across your chest, constricting your air flow and making all your blood rush to your cheeks. It was one compliment; why are you like this? What are you going to do if he keeps looking at you like that? You swiftly go back to the road, counting the number of cars that pass by. One, two, three, four…

And a gray bus pulling up to the curb.

“Bus is here,” you uselessly announce. Jisung follows you into the growing crowd surrounding the entrance. He hovers behind you as the two of you wait for the people in front to board, and his presence is more palpable than usual. “There’s a lot of people today,” you remark in a vain attempt to distract yourself.

“Yeah, everyone’s heading home for the day.” He pauses dramatically before adding, “The birds are all going back to their nest.”

The joke successfully snaps you out of your haze. “That’s not a real saying.”

“I think it should be. It makes perfect sense!”

“You’re—” As the line shuffles forward, you try to think of something bird related, but he beats to the punch.

“Cuckoo?”

It’s almost impressive how much time he has invested in annoying you. Does it make you fall for him more? No, not really, or so you try to convince yourself. It’s strangely endearing, just like everything about him. You merely answer, “Yes.”

He chuckles and nudges you forward up the steps of the bus.

Even though there’s a little bit of daylight left, Jisung walks you back to your apartment building. You’re not upset by this, but where was this chivalry two weeks ago after the first study session? You teasingly ask him about it, and he turns bashful. How unlike him.

“I thought you lived in my complex, for some reason. You were always at the bus stop before me, so I assumed you lived nearby. I didn’t know until I overheard you and Yeji talking about it,” he says, hiding himself with his collar.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” you say, stopping in front of the walkway to your building, “see you tomorrow then. Thanks for walking me back. Good night.”

The Jisung you’re used to seeing, is back with a mischievous smile and yet another joke. “Good night-ingale.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to seem too amused by it. He’s not charming, not even a little bit. “That was awful.” It’s the smile, you tell yourself. No one should have one like that. It has too much power.

“Yet I can see you smiling at it.”

Remain calm. You can do that. You’ve faked this before, so why is your head not cooperating right now? Jisung really needs to stop looking at you with anything more than a neutral face. It’s bad for you, like really, really bad. No witty remarks at the ready is typical, but you can’t even think of anything to say.

After an excruciating five seconds, you manage to stammer out, “Good night.” Cheeks aflame and your heart threatening to pop out of you like a cuckoo clock, you roughly yank open the door and bolt up the stairs. You have too much adrenaline in you right now. Waiting for the elevator knowing that he could be observing your twitchy movements, would be too nerve wracking.

Ryujin asks if you’re alright when she sees you hunched against the kitchen counter, out of breath and muttering to yourself.

“I decided to take the stairs,” you say, which only partially explains your dishevelled state. “I’ll be alright. I think.”

“I’ll get you some water. You look like you're about to collapse.”

Then your phone chimes with a new message, and you decidedly won’t be alright.

8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Did my nightingale pun quack you up that badly? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Was it that ducking good? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: :D

8:23 PM [Jisung Bio]: Anyway, good luck tomorrow. Sleep well and sweet dreams, morning lark

There is no food in the fridge. Well, no proper food. A bag of spinach that expired three days ago but still seems okay, does not count. The same goes for the half empty jar of peanut butter, but Ryujin would likely disagree with that. There’s a reason why the jar is half empty. However, if you actually want to eat something for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow, you need to go shopping.

For some strange reason, it does not occur to you that you can run into Jisung at the grocery store. Jisung belongs in four locations: the bus stop, the lecture hall, the library, and the pizza place you saw him at last week. Not the dairy aisle on a Wednesday night.

“Hey.” You stop in front of him, basket at your feet and hands folded in front of you like the world’s worst defense. Heart, stop beating so fast.

Jisung looks up from his phone to search for the owner of the voice and brightens when he sees that it’s you. “Hey, morning lark.” He has taken to calling you that ever since he sent that particular message. You wish it produced another reaction from you besides pure bliss, but that is the price you pay for pretending to be still annoyed by his jokes. That’s how bad your crush on him now is; you are increasingly beguiled by the puns. “Oh, did you need milk?”

“Yeah.” You grab a blue carton with a picture of a smiling cow from the shelf and place it in your basket. In the meantime, you can’t help but peer into Jisung’s. There is a bag of chocolate chips and a packet of gelatin. “Is this stuff for tomorrow’s study session?”

He nods and grabs the same brand of milk as you did. You get a rush of excitement, much to your chagrin. It’s just milk, and this is the most popular brand too. “Yeah. Felix is trying a new recipe, so you guys get to have some of the failed ones too.”

“What is it? Cheesecake?”

“You’ll see,” he mysteriously says. Then he adds, “You’re gonna love it,” which immediately gives away the theme.

“It’s something to do with birds, isn’t it?”

“You’ll see.”

And when you do see, you’re wrong. Library food rules ignored, at each seat, Jisung has set a slice of layer cake topped with chocolate ganache, no bird motifs of any sort. You take your usual spot at the end of the table and find that yours is slightly larger than the others. Well, except for maybe Lia’s. He has to placate her sweet tooth and her disappointment of not being able to have hummingbird cake.

“Did I not get a message or something?” Hyunjin asks when he takes in the over-the-top display. “Is this a dinner party?”

“Isn’t this against the library’s rules?” Yeji asks as she surreptitiously looks around for any librarians. The surrounding tables of fellow students won’t care.

Jisung elects to not answer Yeji’s concerns. “This is tonight’s snack,” he proudly replies. “Also, Felix wants feedback on it.”

You cut a section off with the plastic fork and marvel at the airiness of the cake. It’s unlike anything you have ever had. The frosting in between the sponge layers is so light, and the ganache is so dark and rich. “This is really amazing. It’s so fluffy. Wow. Tell Felix that he really needs to consider culinary school.”

“Wanna guess what it’s called?”

“Isn’t this just an extra fancy vanilla cake?” you ask. You take another bite, but other than the chocolate ganache on top, you can only taste vanilla. “I don’t know. The… vanilla fluff cake?”

“Nope.” He leans forward, face inches away from yours, lips curled into a smirk, and slowly says, “Bird’s milk cake.”

This can’t be real. Birds don’t even produce milk. “No way. You’re lying.” Even as you say the words, they sound false to your ears. Jisung has made it his mission to find anything and everything bird-related for you, so you doubt he’s lying.

“It’s called this” — he holds up his phone screen — “in Russian. It translates to ‘bird’s milk.’”

Ptichye moloko.

“You convinced Felix to make this, didn’t you?” you say. What are the chances that Felix conveniently wanted to make bird’s milk cake without any nudging from Jisung? Absolutely none. You have never even heard of this dessert before, let alone by it’s Russian name, and you’re willing to bet that Jisung searched up ‘bird cake’ or something of that nature just for this. Maybe that’s how he found out about hummingbird cake too.

“It’s all for you, morning lark,” he cheerfully replies, winking at you. He leans back in his chair again, precariously balancing on the two back legs. “I knew you’d like it.”

Jisung is really not making this easy for you. Forget subtleties, he’s just shamelessly flirting with you now. And in the sanctity of the library of all places! In a poor attempt to save yourself from this mess, you unconsciously begin to slide down the chair, trying to shield your hot face with your raised shoulders. Lia notices this — one of the perks having sat next to you for nearly four weeks during lectures — and grabs your forearm.

“No melting,” she reminds you, “or else you’re going to hit your head on the seat again.”

“I wasn’t melting,” you protest as you wriggle back up. Slowly dying might have been a better descriptor. That wink shot arrows into your already fragile heart. “We’re gonna get in trouble if one of the librarians sees this.”

“Guess we should get started then,” Hyunjin says. Yeji, the only responsible one in the group, begins pulling out the textbook, and everyone laughs at her eagerness. “Not what I meant, but that too.”

After you’re done with the cake and while the others are preoccupied about the timeline of human evolution, Jisung whispers across the table, “Did you still like it?”

“Yeah. No hard feelings about the name because it was good,” you whisper back.

“I thought it would turn out like this, morning lark. I know you love free food too much to be mad.”

The nickname again. You rest your cheek against your palm in a vain attempt to tamp down the growing heat. “Can I get a different name, plague doctor?”

He’s not at all phased by his own nickname, which doesn’t bode well for any future snarky remarks from you. “What, you don’t like birds or something?” He blinks so innocently back at you that you have to stifle a giggle.

“Yeah, well, that’s the—”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Hyunjin interrupts, making you profusely blush and Yeji lightly laugh at the expression, “we’re gonna move on to the next section now. Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” you reply even though you are most definitely not okay. Jisung, who you notice is uncharacteristically sheepish, echoes your sentiment.

It’s difficult not to stare at Jisung during the remainder of the study session. It seems to be true the other way around as well.

You’re sober when you read the messages, but you don’t think Jisung was when he sent them. Oh, how the tables have turned.

3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Good morning morning lark!! 3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Winner winner chicken dinner remember? So yes or no?

3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or maybe yes or yes? 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: I really want to go on a date with you 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Not lying I swear

3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re always on my mind and every time I see a bird, I think about you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I bought grey goose because of you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: [jisung’s_hand_holding_grey_goose_vodka.jpg] 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I don’t even like it that much

3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You make me dizzy sometimes and I don’t know what to do 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re probably sleeping so good night larky 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or morning

3:06 AM [Jisung Bio]: Fly high in your dreams!!!

He must have been wasted and under no responsible supervision because this is what you would have done if you were in his place. Does he not have a Seungmin in his life? Or a Ryujin? There’s a Felix, so where was he when all of this happened?

But forget about Jisung’s own problems.

He wants to go on a date with you. A real date, not a study date with three other people and fake quiz questions. If his words are to be taken literally, then one involving a chicken dinner. Possibly a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store, but a chicken dinner nonetheless.

He can’t stop thinking about you. All those bird jokes had you charmed, and all those cakes were baked with you in mind. They weren’t just for show. They were all about you.

You make him dizzy, which is hilarious because he does the same to you. He smiles at you so brightly, laughs so easily, and flirts so shamelessly that you never realized that you could ever make him feel that way.

And “fly high in your dreams?” You’re practically soaring in real life. Han Jisung, cute bio boy, plague doctor, pun enthusiast, surprisingly decent baker, wants to go on a date with you.

You, you, you!

While you alternate between hyperventilating and forgetting how to breathe as you process all this, three gray dots appear at the bottom of the chat. You clutch your phone as you wait. Apparently, your body is on the ‘forgetting how to breathe’ cycle.

11:14 AM [Jisung Bio]: I am so sorry about that. I was very drunk when I sent that

11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: You can just ignore them or delete them 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Highly recommend deleting 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Also sorry if I woke you up

Your fingers hover over the keyboard. Should you answer him over text, call, or in-person? Is in-person too dramatic though? You feel like something like this is supposed to be done face-to-face, but he’s probably hungover beyond belief.

11:16 AM [Me]: It’s okay. A morning lark is always up early anyway :) 11:16 AM [Me]: Were you serious though?

11:17 AM [Jisung Bio]: Can we meet up in an hour? At the bus stop? I want to talk to you 11:17 AM [Me]: Yeah. Me too

The bus stop is neutral territory or maybe just the closest meeting spot you and Jisung have. If it’s supposed to be neutral territory, it most definitely is not since his apartment complex is right behind it. Despite his close proximity to the spot, you arrive first, so you make yourself as comfortable as possible underneath the sign, standing in its shadow. It’s silly when you think about it, but you wish you dressed in something nicer than a hoodie. In your rush to leave the apartment, you threw on whatever, but maybe you should have worn something prettier for this confrontation. Make Jisung go dizzy and gain a little bit of power from that.

This is even worse than when you had to face him after you sent your drunk texts. At least then it was just a middling attraction and not a full-on crush.

“Hey, morning lark. You’re early. As expected.”

“Hey. You’re… alive.”

Jisung is strangely fresh-faced, not a hint of hungover clouding around him. Why can’t you look like him after a night of seemingly heavy drinking? Where are the pinched eyebrows from the blinding lights? The ghostly gray face? The haunted eyes as one remembers all the incredibly stupid things they did the night before? Unfair. Completely unfair.

“Yeah.” He’s wearing his usual sweatshirt, but his hands are stuffed into its pockets instead of being out and about. He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Well, uh, I meant everything I sent. And I’m serious about taking you to dinner, so do you want to go on a date with me?”

You anticipated this. Why does it feel like you have just finished running a marathon? “Yeah, I do. I really want to.”

He smiles so brightly, the sun would be jealous. Correction, should be jealous. You don’t think you’ve seen a prettier sight than this since he sat down next to you on the first day of class and asked if you wanted to start a study group. He pumps his fist in the air like he’s a movie character, and you hide your laugh behind your hoodie sleeve. You’ve never seen him so happy before.

“How are you not hungover?” you ask as he raises his face to the sky, taking in the afternoon light, basking in the moment. He’s really living his movie character dreams. “You said you were really drunk.”

“I kind of lied?” he says, sounding more wistful than you would expect. When he looks back at you, you finally see dark circles underneath his eyes, but he is still as jubilant as before. “I was more tipsy than drunk. So, when do you wanna get that chicken dinner, winner, winner?”

It’s amazing how shy, excited Jisung disappears and how the usual casual, teasing Jisung reappears. That’s his Jekyll and Hyde moment, you suppose. And the switch is all activated by his one-track mind of bird jokes. How wonderful.

“Next week, after midterms? I’ve got two this week to study for. I should be free on Friday night.”

He enthusiastically nods. “Sounds good to me.”

2:57 PM [Me]: I’m done with all my midterms! Are you free tonight?

2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Free as a bird :D 2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Also congrats on being done 2:59 PM [Me]: I hate you

3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: So chicken dinner? The restaurant next to the pizza place just opened 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: I heard it’s really clucking good 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: A hen out of hen

3:01 PM [Me]: I might actually kill you during our date

3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Don’t you mean 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: [flock_of_crows.jpg] 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Murder :D

3:05 PM [Jisung Bio]: I’ll see you at 6? 3:05 PM [Me]: See you then

You do not end up murdering Jisung on your date, though you do come pretty close after you audibly ask the ground to swallow you up when he compliments your egg-cellent outfit.

“Swallow?” he slyly says. “Like the bird?”

Instead of committing a crime, you kiss him on the cheek, effectively silencing him. You’ve been waiting to do both those things for some time now, and look at you now, killing two birds with one stone.

Jisung turns a delightful shade of pink and mutters something about needing to get to the restaurant before it gets too crowded. All of his bluster from just five seconds ago is gone. You merrily follow him down the pavement, feeling a little bit like the cat who swallowed the canary.

Yes, you did search up bird expressions beforehand. Jisung will be Jisung, and like you told him before, toucan play at this game. You will not spend your first date with him being humiliated by his large repertoire of puns. Besides, if he retaliates like you expect him to, you will have the perfect excuse to kiss him again.

See? No fowl play at all.

Then he takes your hand into his, his warmth enveloping yours, and everything suddenly isn’t fair again.

And based on his all-too-pleased grin, Jisung knows this as well.

~ ad.gray

418 notes · View notes

flareish · 3 years ago

Text

Rival

akaashi x reader

summary: you and akaashi are fighting for that #1 class rank. however there is not just a scholarship at stake here but some deeply hidden feelings too

genre: rivals to lovers

word count: 2.1k

warnings: kissing, there is a kinda sexual joke

a/n: ahhh! my first request thank you so much! I haven’t written for akaashi yet but he is so great so I hope this does him justice. Love our pretty setters.

Rage consumes you. You want to throw Akaashi out of the wall of windows right now. It’s only one test you tell yourself. One test that he managed to scrape in one point higher than you. You got 99% and somehow this idiot gets 100%. Quickly putting your stuff away you try and slip out of class before you he finds out. You would like to avoid his snarky remarks.

“Oh, that’s a pretty good score.” Too late. Akaashi has appeared from behind you, smugness ran through his sarcastic comment. You compose yourself and bounce right back.

“Thought I’d give you a little something since I’ve been crushing your scores lately.” You fire back. He’s not the only one who can play at this game.

“Careful you might just give the spot away at this point.” That spot being #1 in class rank as well as the hefty academic scholarship that goes with it. The spot you’ve occupied for the past two years and suddenly this guy comes out of nowhere and tries to take it from you, right before it really matters.

“Haha. Well some of us actually have stuff to do. Have fun playing with your balls.” You walk straight past him and out the class. He held a smug grin the whole time. No matter what you did it never left his face. The amount of insults you’ve thrown at each other and every time it’s you who always gets bested.

Anger fueling your walk to the point onlookers might think you were exercising, not walking home from school. You make it home in record time. As soon as you’re in your room you immediately start studying. You’ve never had to study this hard before in your life. You don’t mean to sound conceded but academics just kinda came easy to you. Sure, you had your rough patches but you just seemed to absorb information. You didn’t really have many other passions either but your parents always said that could come later right now isn’t for fun and games it is for learning. So learn you did.

The next day, your teacher had started a new project and decided to assign partners.

“Akaashi and Y/N. You two will be working together.” What did you do to deserve this? You remain in your seat waiting for him to come over but he never does. You look over and see him still sat there, reclined back in his seat talking with Bokuto who sat behind him. That’s when you realize he is waiting for you to move over there. Cocky bastard. Taking a deep breath, you swallow your pride and move over there.

“Please don’t rush, I would hate for you to strain yourself.” You snap sitting down. “That’s so great you got the hint, I wasn’t planning on getting up. Thank you for being so obedient.” Still wearing that grin. Oh, what you would do to slap it off of his face. You ignore him and start working on the project. He simply resumes his conversation with Bokuto, who never does the projects anyway. Seems like you will be doing this all by yourself. Half of you is tempted to purposefully fail but then it would just hurt your grade too. Although it would be pretty funny to see his face. He ignored you for the rest of the class. Once again you part ways.

When you go home and open your computer to continue working on the project to find that it has been already done. Did he seriously not lift a finger in class just to do a rush job right before his volleyball practice. You roll your eyes before reading through his work. You realize it hadn’t been a rush job at all but was perfect. Now you weren’t sure to be happy he actually did it or pissed that it was better than what you could have done.

After you’ve cooled down a bit you take a moment to think. Maybe he isn’t as bad as you think. You’ve never taken the time to think about why he is doing this. You just immediately jumped on that he was out to get you. That’s pretty childish now you think about it. Maybe he really needs this academic scholarship so he can go to college. There is no way you can be nice to him but perhaps you could be tolerant. You weren’t giving him that scholarship though. No matter how much he needed it, you did too.

The next day in class you are determined to stick by your discovery. With it including being nicer to Akaashi. You were talking to your friend when he came into the classroom.

“You’re so loud Y/N I swear I could hear you from across the school.” You don’t say anything just look at him and smile. You almost see his grin falter, you’re not sure if he is surprised or scared at your smile.

“Wow have I finally broken you.” You keep ignoring him. This annoys him and he pokes you. You swat at him and he chuckles before walking off. Your friend laughs at the two of you. The teacher came into the room and everyone quickly settled down and class began. You could feel Akaashi’s stare from across the room but you didn’t dare look at him.

When class ended you are your friend took your time and ended up being the last people in the classroom.

“So is ignoring him your next idea?” Your friend asks amused by the earlier interaction, “Can’t beat him then just will him out of existence.”

“No, I’m trying to be a nicer person and embrace competition.” Your friend bursts out laughing.

“That’s not going to last long. Before you know it you will be at his throat again.”

“I don’t know. Think why does he want to be #1 so badly? The scholarship. He probably needs it for college.” You say seriously.

“Ha! As if.” Your friend laughs as if she knows something you don’t.

“Why is he secretly loaded of something?” You ask kinda curious as you pack up your stuff.

“I don’t know about that but I do know he already has multiple athletic scholarships lined up.” You pause at that.

“What?” You are in complete and utter disbelief. If he didn’t need this scholarship what was the point in stealing it from you. Did he seriously hate you that much? You were beyond angry now. You throw your stuff in your bag messily and march out of the class room heading straight for the gyms. If he wanted this scholarship so badly from you, you were going to get an answer.

As you near the gyms however you hear something that stops you in your tracks.

“Are you seriously going to study for all those classes tonight?” One of his teammates asked in shock.

“He’s got to if he wants to keep up with Y/N.” Another teases. You make sure you are out of sight and continue listening in.

“Wait why do you compete with Y/N. I thought you were a jock, not a nerd.” You hear laughter and something being thrown at someone.

“Can’t you see? Our Akaashi is smitten!” You recognize Bokuto’s voice.

“Shut up you dumb owl.” Akaashi didn’t deny it though.

“He’s so crazy for them that he decided to bring his class ranking up so they would notice him,” Bokuto breaks into laughter “But now they just hate him. We got a real player here, am I right.”

You hear Akaashi yell at him and then you hear some hitting and decide to leave before you got caught. However, not once did you hear Akaashi deny it. He was just silent and then would yell at them for outing him. For telling the truth.

Akaashi likes you.

What an idiot. Who decides the way about trying to get to know someone is by threatening their biggest goal?! You can’t deny though he’s not the only smitten one. Although lately, you have absolutely hated him, before all this you actually had a crush on him. You never acted on it because you were so busy with academics. Is now a second chance? You decided to wait for him after practice.

By some miracle he is the last one left in the gym, meaning you can confront him without an audience.

“What are you waiting to jump me? I’ll warn you I’m not afraid to fight back.” He snapped at you but you kept quiet. This silence was driving him crazy. At least when you were arguing back with him you were acknowledging him but now. It was like he didn’t exist all over again. He was about to lose it when you spoke up.

“You know there are better ways to gain someone affection than trying to take the scholarship that they have been working towards for the past three years away from them.” It was your turn to shoot him a smug look. He looks like a deer caught in headlights. For once you’ve caught him off guard, good and proper.

“Wha-Who said I wanted your affections.” He tried to play it off but it was written all over his face. He truly did like you.

“You know I would have said yes.” You say nonchalantly as you begin to walk away. He snaps out of his confused stupor and grabs your arm, turning you around.

“What did you just say.” No longer is he embarrassed or caught off guard but intense and desperate. Like he had misheard what you just said. Like it was a dream.

“That maybe if you had just asked me, I would have said yes.” You try to be as confident as you were a moment ago but that was hard with a blush spreading across your cheeks.

“And what about right now?” He asked, almost pleaded. This was no longer the Akaashi you had known the past year. This was something different. Something raw and intense.

“What?” You were shocked. Was he seriously about to ask you out? Like this?

“All I ever wanted was you to talk to me. I thought that if I got my rank up that you would respect me, that I’d be smart enough to hold a conversation with you. But no matter how high my rank went, it never felt good enough so I decided that #2 would be the greatest spot I could reach. Then instead of getting you admiration and praise, you thought I was trying to steal your spot. Maybe I should have just explained then that I wasn’t but you were actually talking to me. What if after I explained it we just went back to the way it was before. Suddenly we had some common ground, so I just kept going. When you stopped talking to me today, I hated it so much. So please I know our relationship is in a weird place and we’re not even friends but-” He trailed off. He didn’t even know what he was begging for.

It was so strange to see him like this. Normally, even with his friends, he was guarded, quick-witted, confident. Now he was so vulnerable. It sparked something in you. At first, it was just a quick thought in your brain but before you knew it your body was moving. Acting on it.

You pulled your arm out of his grasp and with it his face dropped, thinking this was you rejecting him. You didn’t pay it any mind and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling his stupidy tall body down.

With that, you kissed him.

He was frozen for a moment before jumping back to life. His hands came up to your face and he kissed you back as if he would never get the chance to again. He definitely wasn’t expecting this but he wasn’t going to waste this once in a lifetime opportunity. Eventually, you pulled away and his lips chased yours back. You caught his eyes and he relented.

“Maybe we could work something out.” You say began a smug smile. You run your hand down his side and into his pocket, his eyes blew wide in surprise not really sure what you were doing. You pulled his phone out of the pocket and started putting your number in.

“Call me tonight.” When you handed him his phone back he matched your smug smile with one of his own.

“You bet.” He said as he watched you walk off. Once your back was turned you couldn’t help but let out a giddy giggle.

#akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #akaashi keiji #keiji akaashi #keiji akaashi x reader #akaashi oneshot #akaashi imagine #fukurodani #fukurodani x reader #rivals to lovers #haikyuu #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu imagines

152 notes · View notes

supernovafics · 4 years ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change.

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

#dylan o’brien #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o'brien x y/n #dylan o'brien x fem!reader #dylan o'brien gifs

200 notes · View notes

kpopfanfictrash · 4 years ago

Text

Raise the Barre (Ch. 1)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Content Contributor: @baebae-goodnight (WHO MADE THIS PERFECTLY GORGEOUS MOODBOARD)

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Word Count: 7,003

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

Thumbs hooked beneath the straps of your backpack, you paused on the sidewalk to tilt your head up. A sign reading Russet Ballet Academy hung from the building above, detailing the location of the next four years of your life.

It was the dream of many to attend and yet, few ever came to walk these halls as its students. Only eighty dancers were accepted to their dance program each year; the fiercest competition from all over the globe.

Somehow, you were amongst them.

The day you’d received your letter still felt like a dream but here you were, standing under the sign and knowing you’d made it. You stared at it a second longer before your mom came up and squeezed your shoulder.

“Wow,” she said, also reading the sign. “Seems like just yesterday you fell on your ass at Hall of Fame, huh?”

“Mom!” You laughed, the moment effectively broken. “Why would you bring that up now? I was twelve!”

She grinned and glanced in your direction. “You just had such enthusiasm! Picked yourself right back up and kept going. I should’ve known then you would make it.”

Despite yourself, you felt your insides soften again. It sounded like something your old dance teacher, Miss Katie, would’ve said. She’d always had faith in your perseverance and ability. You hadn’t started competing until the age of eleven; in dancer years, this was considered late and yet, you grew quickly through the ranks. By the time you reached high school, you were known on the competitive dance circuit as one of the elites.

Your parents joked it was your contrariness that kept you going. Growing up, you’d never much liked hearing the word no – something your parents applauded and bemoaned in equal measure.

Hiking your bag higher, you turned to face your parents. “So, are you going to take a photo, or what?”

“A photo! Great idea.” Scanning the sidewalk, your mom found your dad. “Honey, come here! Honey! Hone – honestly,” she huffed, waving both arms overhead.

Finally, your dad noticed and hurried in your direction. “Have you seen the gargoyles?” he asked, clearly impressed. “The architecture of this building is incredible, Y/N. When you get settled, maybe you can find out for me who the builder –”

“Take the picture, darling,” said your mom, handing over the camera.

She moved beside you, hugging you tight enough to make breathing difficult. You were happy though, smiling brightly as your dad took the shot.

“Okay, okay,” you said, laughing after the tenth frame. “I think you guys have embarrassed me enough for one day, don’t you?”

“Debatable,” said your dad, grabbing your luggage to haul up the steps. “We’ve got to make up for all the days we won’t see you. You’re not coming home until the holidays, right? That’s a long time!”

At this, a small pang went through you and you nodded. He was right – your parents lived a plane flight away and you’d never been the wealthiest of households. You wouldn’t be able to return until three months from now, which was the longest you’d ever spent away from your family.

It was such a strange thought, you didn’t know what to do with it. As crazy as it was, since they often drove you crazy, you hadn’t ever lived far away from home and the thought made you sad. It was just another way your life was being upended.

As you entered the arched door of Grace Hall, your soon-to-be home, your head spun from the newness. In your small suburban town, you’d had a reputation. The best dancer, the straight-A student, the person with her act together – never mind what you did behind the scenes to make it appear that way. The point was, you were known.

Here, you were just another small fish thrown into the big pond. It wasn’t that you were a bad dancer – far from it – but here, everyone was the best. Everyone at Russet had passed the same bar, which meant the stakes would be higher than ever before. You had never danced under that kind of pressure and scrutiny.

Stomach churning, you once again wondered if you’d made the right choice. You’d been accepted into other Universities; ones without dance programs where you’d have a more secure future. Instead, you chose to pursue dance as a career.

It wasn’t that other majors were without risk or difficulty, but there was a certain physical and mental exhaustion associated with dance which most found to be a deterrent. You once had a teacher who said if you needed to think twice about dancing, you shouldn’t do it. Way too many people never made it to the top; if you weren’t prepared to make sacrifices for what you loved, then this wasn’t the path for you.

At the time, you hadn’t thought twice about your decision, but that was before the events of Senior year.

A week before the final dance competition of the season, your tendonitis grew so bad, you physically winced whenever you landed a jump. Your teachers finally caught on and forced you to see a doctor, who forbade you from dancing in the upcoming competition.

It had been the last one of the year; your final chance to compete and show everyone – well, someone – why you were considered the best. You went to the competition despite your injury, determined to cheer on your teammates, but something hollow settled into your chest as you watched, realizing your time on the stage would someday come to an end.

You realized how tenuous your body was and, by extension, your career. Of course, you’d known this before, but it had been your first time to face this knowledge head-on and it scared you. Tendonitis wasn’t something that went away, although it was a condition you could work through and manage. Still, your body would only get worse and although you knew you wanted to dance, now you had doubts.

As you stepped through the doors of Russet Academy, these doubts reared their ugly heads once again.

Hiking your bag further up on your shoulder, you plastered a smile on your face and pushed these thoughts away. That was last year. You were better now, fully recovered and approved to dance by your doctors. So long as you took care of yourself, there was nothing to fear.

More suitcases waited in the trunk of your dad’s rental car, but your roommate had already texted her arrival, so you headed upstairs. Noelle Carmichael was from California, a Sagittarius, had begun dancing at the age of three and loved caramel popcorn more than anything else in the world. All this information had been thrown at you during your first text conversation, which might have seemed like a lot, but after a summer of talking, you knew it to only be Noelle.

As you lugged your bag from the elevator – the singular service vehicle had been repurposed for move-in – a head poked itself from a room down the hall.

“Y/N?”

When you nodded, your roommate whooped and leapt into view.

“It’s me – Noelle!” she called.

She rushed to help you with your bags, chattering excitedly as you walked down the hall. Noelle’s move-in time had been yesterday, and her parents had already left, but they couldn’t wait to meet you the next time they visited.

You found her enthusiasm contagious and before long, most of your worries had been banished to the sidewalk outside. It felt like you’d known Noelle for much longer than the few months you talked over the summer. This greatly relieved you, since you’d been worried about making friends at Russet Academy.

Dancers weren’t always the friendliest, especially when it came to institutions like this. So much of dance was competition – competition for that ranking, that medal or that place in that dance company. It was hard to make teamwork a priority when so much of success was judged on the individual.

Noelle didn’t seem to think this way though, which helped ease some of your fears. You had both entered the ballet track at the Academy. You weren’t naturally a ballerina, but Russet recommended those who wanted to go into jazz or contemporary start with ballet. Smaller majors existed for tap and hip-hop, but those had never been your forte.

Meeting Noelle was enough for minimal tears to be shed while saying goodbye to your parents later that night. Your dad ended up crying, which of course set you off, but by the time they got in their rental car and turned the corner, you’d managed to mostly pull yourself together.

Noelle remained in the dorm while you said goodbye, lounging on her bed with a book in her lap.

You paused on the threshold of your room when you returned, taking in the strangeness of all your surroundings. Your old comforter on a lofted bed, your laptop perched on a strange desk, your clothes hung in an armoire. It was both strange and familiar; the sight of it brought tears to your eyes.

“Oh, no!” Noelle said, hopping down from her bed. “Don’t cry, Y/N! I only just stopped crying this morning. If you cry, then I’ll cry and people will think something terrible is happening here.”

You laughed when she hugged you, hugging her back in the middle of the room. It was comforting to know someone else felt this way; after a moment, you pulled back to wipe your eyes.

“I’m fine,” you groaned, shaking your head. “Damn. I didn’t expect that.”

“I know.” Noelle smiled. “I was so excited to leave I forgot that deep down, I’m a gigantic baby. Huge mama’s girl.”

Stifling a laugh, you crossed the room to grab a Kleenex.

“If it helps,” Noelle said. “Some girls down the hall are having people over tonight. We could go and meet some of our classmates before orientation starts tomorrow. It should be fun!”

“That does sound fun,” you said, and you meant it.

A few hours later, you found yourself seated on equally horrible carpet in a room down the hall. Several other freshmen were seated beside you, sharing similar parting stories, which lifted your spirits.

“I bawled,” said Irene, clutching her chest. “I’ve had this giant countdown in my calendar all summer. I crossed each day off with a marker and then suddenly, I’m here and I miss my sister. Pathetic.”

Noelle laughed. “I’m just glad I was part of yesterday’s move-in day. It means only half of you heard my gigantic breakdown last night. Mad embarrassing. Pretty sure I told my brother I love him.” She shuddered. “He’s only supposed to get that honor on his birthday!”

The room cracked up, another girl chiming in and you swirled your cup, happily buzzed from the drink in your hand. You hadn’t had alcohol many times before, but it seemed appropriate for a night of new experiences. No one here was drinking to get drunk, since orientation began tomorrow, but some social lubricant tended to help in times like this.

Ballet wouldn’t start until Monday morning, so this was your last chance for a while to indulge. It wasn’t that you couldn’t drink during the semester, but you’d learned the hard way hangovers made for terrible class the next day. You’d only done it once before deciding to ban the idea of alcohol the night before dancing.

The other girls on your floor did their best to put you at ease. Aside from your roommate, there were five other girls who’d congregated in the room.

Ari and Jasmine lived in the room you all sat in. Ari lived within driving distance of the city, had the largest collection of gel pens you’d ever seen and had started dancing later in life (at age ten), which made it all the more impressive that she’d gotten in. Jasmine was from a tiny city in the south and was also a studio dancer; you recognized her the moment she spoke, having run into her as a teacher’s assistant at a dance convention you went to.

Also present were Irene, a ballerina from Chicago and Lia, who was on the hip-hop track. They were also roommates and although you probably wouldn’t have many classes with Lia, orientation tomorrow would be the same. As you got to know them better, the bubble of trepidation in your chest slowly deflated. Everyone here seemed nice – intense, but not as though they were out to get anyone.

As though conjured into being by your very thought, a girl appeared in the door.

She was tall, slim and had her hair pulled back in a French twist. Everything about her screamed ballerina, from her light blue warm-ups to her arched expression. The moment she appeared on the threshold, several people in the room quieted.

Noticing this, you glanced at her with renewed interest. It seemed the girl’s reputation preceded her, but you honestly had no idea who she was. Rather than introduce herself though, the girl merely sighed.

“I thought I heard something,” she said, her tone piqued.

Forcing a smile to her lips, Jasmine rose from the floor. “Hey, Sabrina!” she said, making her tone bright. “We were just getting to know one another. Did you change your mind about coming? We have room if you want to join.”

Despite her forced smile, you detected a glimmer of want beneath Jasmine’s words. Clearly, this Sabrina was considered a big deal. Jasmine’s hopes were immediately crushed the second Sabrina opened her mouth.

“No, thanks,” she said, her gaze sweeping the room. “I need to get to sleep soon. I want to wake up early and get in a quick barre before breakfast.”

Noelle, seated beside you, stared at Sabrina in amazement. “You already have access to rooms?”

Sabrina turned; a faint, amused smile crossed her lips. “Yeah. I went to Russet Prep. I’ve known most of the teachers here for years.”

Hearing this, your stomach sank to the floor. You’d known, of course, there was a feeder school into Russet Ballet Academy. You’d received the same audition letter many years ago, but the cost and distance had been too much for your family to consider.

While you’d understood the fact that you’d be amongst great dancers, you hadn’t thought specifically about Russet Prep ballerinas. Sabrina’s presence instantly dampened your mood, since the way she glanced at you confirmed what you already knew.

She had a leg-up, she knew it and she wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

Leaning back on the futon, you slowly sipped your drink. “Did you just come here to say that?” you asked. “Or did you want something else?”

Multiple heads turned to face you. Irene’s lips twitched and beside you, Noelle let out a laugh. Based on their reactions, you got the feeling that Sabrina wasn’t very well-liked by her peers.

Smile vanishing, Sabrina met your gaze. “That was all,” she said. “Just wanted to ask if you could keep it down. Some of us are trying to take this opportunity seriously.”

With that, she turned and stalked from the room. The door slammed shut behind her and silence lingered – until Noelle snorted and others began to laugh.

“Some of us are trying to take this opportunity seriously,” Noelle mimicked, rolling her eyes. “Give me a break. Like we all didn’t bleed into our pointe shoes to be here.”

The rest nodded in agreement and slowly, the conversation shifted to other topics. Although you joined in, uncertainty lingered in the back of your mind. It seemed some of dance’s cattiness had followed you after all. You weren’t truly surprised by this; after all, you were barely three months older than you’d been in high school. It was too much to expect people to become adults overnight.

Still, at least there was one cause for celebration this evening. The fact that you’d arrived at Russet meant you no longer had to compete against your most fierce rival.

For the next four years, Park Jimin, utter bane of your existence, would be nowhere in sight.

Early the next morning, you stood in line for registration at Danley Hall and awaited your schedule.

“Honestly.” Noelle stood on her toes to peer down the hall. “Why do they insist on handing these things out in person? We could easily get them online and skip all this nonsense.”

“We need to take our ID card photos,” you pointed out. “But yeah, it sucks. You’d think they could’ve at least assigned us time slots.”

“Dancers.” Noelle shook her head. “Great at conceptualizing abstract choreography – not so great at administrative tasks.”

You laughed, facing forward as the line started to move. It stopped shortly thereafter, as did you, rearranging the bag on your shoulder. You recognized several people from last night and waved hello to them all, receiving greetings in turn.

When your phone vibrated in your pocket, you jumped in surprise. Pulling it free, you smiled when you saw the name of your boyfriend.

“Oooo.” Noelle peered over your shoulder. “Who’s that? Boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, swatting her arm as you opened his text. “It’s my boyfriend, Finn.”

“Finn’s a good name.” Noelle moved forward in line. “Strong. Noble. Damn, though – are you two doing long distance? Brave souls.”

“No – thank god. Finn’s at Redfield University. His orientation was last week, so we’re planning to meet up later tonight.”

“Redfield? That’s so close!” Noelle gushed. “Wow, you two are so lucky. And Redfield is a great school, too. I wholeheartedly approve.”

“Well, as long as you do,” you laughed.

“What’s he saying? Wishing you luck with registration?”

“That, and asking where I want to get dinner tonight.”

“Sickeningly cute. I’d be jealous if I weren’t such a great person.”

You snorted, about to respond when someone called your name.

“Y/L/N, Y/N?”

Head jerking up, you saw a man at the office waving you forward. It seemed your time had finally come.

“That’s me!” you said, stepping from line.

The first stop at registration were two, tiny desks set before the main office. Past these, you could see someone finishing up their student photo. A bright flash went off, momentary blinding as you winced and faced forward.

“Here you go!” you said, placing your paperwork down. “Everything should be in order.”

The paperwork man barely nodded, grabbing the folder to rifle through. He seemed content to take his time and you quickly grew bored, glancing around the lobby. Much of your class was waiting in line, looking amusingly enough like a middle school dance. There hadn’t been general orientation yet, so most people had only met those in their (single-sex) dorm last night. Groups of boys and girls awkwardly faced off from across the hall.

While you waited, you began to size people up. It was unintentional, but you knew you’d be paired with someone for ballet and it seemed better to get a head start than not. Most people were unfamiliar to you, and you’d made no meaningful progress when a new voice said your name.

“Y/N?”

Freezing in place, you continued to stare at the hallway before you.

You knew that voice. It was one you could’ve identified in the depths of Tartarus itself – which honestly, was the only place you’d imagined hearing said voice again, since it belonged to Park Jimin. Top hellion of the underworld.

Slowly, you turned and had your worst suspicions confirmed.

Park Jimin stared back at you in the hall.

He wore a jean jacket, white t-shirt and golden sunglasses perched on his head, despite being indoors. Every part of his attire screamed pretentious, but no one around you seemed to notice. Instead, a buzz spread over the crowd as more and more people realized who you were talking to.

Before you could compose yourself, you demanded, “What are you doing here, Park?”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. Slowly, he walked forward and closed the distance between you.

“So, you’re not even going to try and be pleasant?” he asked, coming to a stop. Casually, he looked you up and down. “Surprised to see you here. Thought you’d stopped dancing, or something.”

Subconsciously, your hands balled into fists. Jimin had a way of getting under your skin that no one else did – even though admittedly, you could’ve just said hello. You didn’t have to act like he was the anti-Christ, even if he was.

“I didn’t stop dancing,” you said to him through gritted teeth. “You know that perfectly well.”

Jimin shrugged. “How was I supposed to know that? The last time I saw you, you were limping around like you were on your last legs. I just assumed.”

“I… was not limping,” you said with as much dignity as you could muster.

“Weren’t you on crutches?”

“My doctor made me use those!”

“Aha!” Jimin grinned, triumphant. “So, you were injured.”

“I had tendonitis,” you shot back. “Hardly fatal, Park. I’m fine now.”

“Right.” Jimin glanced at your feet. “Hope it doesn’t come back.”

From anyone else, you might’ve taken the words at face value, but this was Jimin. He’d never wished for your success before, so it would be foolish to imagine otherwise now.

Gaze hardening, you took another step forward until you stood nose-to-nose. Well, nose to chin was more like it. Jimin had grown since you first began competing against one another. You remembered a time when you both were the same height. This had once been a source of great amusement for you, choosing to stand directly before him at awards ceremonies.

You opened your mouth to tell him off when the paperwork man said your name again.

“That’s me!” you blurted, spinning around.

Jimin would have to wait, you decided as you strode forward. The paperwork man looked at you in alarm, clearly not used to having such enthusiastic participants.

“Uh, I know,” he said slowly. “You confirmed your name earlier. The photographer is ready,” he added, nodding towards the room Jimin had vacated.

Cheeks burning, you accepted your paperwork and nodded. Although you purposefully didn’t look at Jimin as you left, you could feel him smirking at you from behind.

Refusing to give him the time of day, you brushed past – or you would’ve, but the space was too small for dramatics. You nearly elbowed him in the spleen as you went, forced to squeeze against the wall in an undignified fashion.

Still, you didn’t look back as you entered the ID office. Some of your anger became transparent in your photo-taking, though – this much was obvious when you were handed your ID. Staring at this in horror, you remained frozen in the hall when Noelle finished and joined you.

“Oh, shit,” she said, glancing at your ID. “I feel a lot better about my photo now.”

“Hey!” you said, hand curling around the photo.

Despite this, you laughed, since she was right. On a scale of model to mug shot, your ID was definitely on the latter end.

As you walked away, you shook your head and shoved the ID in your bag. In the corner of one eye, you could see Jimin lingering while he talked with other students. You recognized no one in his group, except for a guy you thought you’d seen on YouTube. Hope on the Street, or something. Probably on the hip-hop track.

“Seriously, though.” Noelle looked at you sympathetically. “What happened? Photographer tell you he was going to murder your family?”

“Ugh, no,” you groaned. “Just got in my own head.”

“Uh-huh. And the fact that you were talking to Park Jimin right before had nothing to do with it?”

Blinking, you glanced at her in surprise. “You saw that?”

“Kind of.” Noelle looked a bit guilty. “I mean, it’s hard not to notice Park Jimin wandering the halls.”

You couldn’t help but scowl at this.

It was unprofessional, but your feud with Jimin went back so far, it was hard for you to be completely impartial. Your rivalry had begun when you’d both been picked to demonstrate the combination at NUVO dance convention and Jimin had tripped you while in the front row. He’d apologized afterwards, claiming ignorance, but you’d seen enough of his dancing by then to know Jimin didn’t make mistakes.

He’d tripped you on purpose.

Jimin was known on the competitive dance circuit, like you, but he had an almost cult-like following on YouTube and TikTok. Rumor had it, he’d been asked to join Ariana Grande on tour the previous summer, which was why you’d thought for sure you were rid of him. It seemed this was no longer the case.

“Yeah,” you grumbled as you neared Jimin in the hall. “He’s here, alright.”

Noelle hid a smile. “You don’t like him.”

“He’s an ass.”

“Yeah, he does,” said Noelle, gazing wistfully at his butt as you passed.

“Noelle!” you snorted. “That’s not what I said.”

“Huh?” Blinking innocently, she returned to you. “Oh, you said – oh. Sorry. Though you said something different.”

The smile she gave was incorrigible though and, despite your best interests, you laughed.

“I mean, he does have a nice butt,” Noelle argued. “Come on, Y/N. You have to admit that,” she continued once you were out of earshot.

“Hadn’t noticed.”

“Liar.”

“I mean, he’s a dancer!” you sputtered. “We all have nice butts.”

“Valid counter-argument,” Noelle said as you walked outside. “But seriously, he’s not a good guy?”

Paused on the sidewalk, you turned to glance at the building. Danley Hall rose above you; the location of class every day for the foreseeable future. Some of that now felt tainted by the prospect of seeing Jimin every day, as well.

With a sigh, you met Noelle’s gaze. “No,” you said at last. “We were rivals all throughout high school and believe me, there aren’t enough terrible superlatives to describe Park Jimin. He’s the most annoying, most childish, least humble–”

“–biggest suck-up, least trustworthy, mind-numbing idiot,” you finished, stabbing your salad with a fork.

Finn laughed at you from across the table. By this point, your feud with Jimin was old news to him. Shaking his head, curly brown hair flopped into his gaze.

“Damn, Y/N,” he said sympathetically. “That sucks. Can’t believe that jerk had the audacity to follow you to Russet. Sounds to me like he can’t get enough of you.”

Ignoring this, you rolled your eyes. “Believe me, it’s not that. Park Jimin doesn’t care about anyone but himself. It’s just Russet, you know? The most prestigious dance academy in the country. I just don’t understand how I didn’t know this,” you sighed, still troubled by the thought. “How come I didn’t know he’d be in the freshman class?”

“I don’t know.” Finn shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t have a Facebook?”

Most of the freshman class had connected on Facebook, at least before someone made a What’s App chat for the group. Finn was probably right about Jimin not giving out his social media.

“That’s probably true,” you grumbled. “But still.”

Finn laughed at your expression. Reaching across the table, he squeezed your hand in his. “Hey,” he said gently. “You beat him for what – four years? So, this is just another four years of putting him in his place. You’ll be fine.”

He was right, although in all honesty, Jimin had won about fifty percent of the time against you. It was one of the reasons you’d pushed yourself so hard in high school.

“You’re right,” you said, somewhat mollified.

“Of course, I am,” Finn said, letting go of your hand. “You’re talking to a man who put his loft bed together alone. By hand.”

You looked at him in alarm. “Did you at least use the manual?”

“Please, Y/N. Men don’t use manuals. We don’t believe in them, much as we don’t believe in cleaning, cooking, or coming in second.”

“Gross,” you groaned, throwing a cherry tomato at him. “Worst ad ever for the male sex. Besides, it’s not true – I beat Jimin in dance plenty of times.”

“Oh, come on,” Finn laughed. “He doesn’t count.”

Something about the way he said this made you sit a bit straighter. Finn resumed cutting into his steak, but you continued to stare at him across the table.

“What do you mean by that?”

Finn looked up in surprise. “Well, you know. It’s not like he’s super manly.”

You stared at him, bewildered.

“I mean, he wears tights, Y/N.”

At this, your eyes narrowed. It wasn’t like you were Jimin’s biggest fan – you despised him, actually – but Finn’s argument was just stupid, even if he meant it as a joke.

“And?” You tilted your head. “He also bench-presses women above his head for fun. Are you being serious? Just because he –”

“Whoa, wait – I was kidding,” Finn said, looking stricken. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just meant it as a joke, you know, since you hate the guy. Truce?”

You hesitated, still miffed, but ultimately deciding it wasn’t worth it. Finn truly looked sorry and this was Jimin, after all. Not that this made it better, but sometimes you grew tired of lecturing your boyfriend. Sometimes, it was just easier to let things go.

“I – yeah,” you said after a long pause. “Fine. Truce.”

“Come on.” Finn smiled and reached for your hand again. “You’re not really mad, are you?” He looked hopefully at you from beneath his curls. “Jimin’s the worst. What’s got you this upset?”

Sexism and toxic masculinity, you wanted to say, but he was right. This was Jimin and you hated that guy. It felt kind of weird to want to defend him to your boyfriend.

Still, though. Finn’s comment was annoying; it was one thing for you to insult Jimin. You did it based on Jimin’s merit, his talent, and the way he kept beating you. You’d never once insulted Jimin because of his gender. In the oddest of ways, it felt like your boyfriend had insulted you when he put down male dancers.

“I’m just annoyed by the whole situation,” you said at last, settling on a half-truth. “I hate the fact that Jimin won our bet.”

Finn nodded in sympathy, settling back in his seat to eat the rest of his meal.

You stared at your salad, no longer as hungry as you had been before. Remembering the bet had thoroughly ruined your appetite.

The bet had been made Senior year, a consequence of years of competition with no real declared winner. Jimin had been the one who suggested it, albeit after you goaded him into it.

It had been your first competition of the season and you’d taken home the top trophy – First Overall in the Senior solo category. Jimin had come in second and when you met backstage, both holding your awards, you’d come to a stop to size one another up.

“Nice trophy,” Jimin said, his tone dripping with derision.

“Right?” Turning it over, you examined it. “Not sure where I’ll put it, though. My shelves at home are pretty full.”

“I think you’ll be fine,” Jimin said. “Competition is pretty stiff this season. I doubt you’ll win again.”

“Are you referring to yourself as my competition, Park?”

“Who else?”

“I wouldn’t worry about me,” you said, stepping closer. “After all, I beat you today. I can do it again.”

“Really?” He smirked. “What competitions are you going to this season?”

You told him, listing them off one by one without looking away.

Jimin listened and nodded. “I’ll be at four of those. How about a bet, then? Whoever wins First Overall at three of the five competitions declares themselves the winner.”

“Hm. What’s the catch?”

“No catch.”

You paused, considering the implications of such a bet. “I don’t get it, though. What does the winner win?”

“Uh, our rivalry? Bragging rights for eternity? Pride? Take your pick, Y/N.”

“Pride,” you said with a snort. “Like you have any of that.”

“I don’t. Let me win it.”

You had to clamp your lips together to keep from laughing; it would’ve ruined your image to laugh at your declared enemy’s joke.

“Alright, fine,” you said with a shake of your head. “But here’s what I want in return – are you listening, Park?”

“Trying to.”

“At the end of this season – when I win – I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me I’m the better dancer.”

Jimin’s smile widened. “And what if I win?”

“Impossible. But if you do,” you allowed. “I’ll tell you you’re the better dancer. Deal?”

“Deal.”

And that had been that.

Shaking your head, you returned yourself to the present and took another bite of your salad.

“We were tied,” you said, the same anger returning. “Jimin had won twice and I had won twice. It wasn’t fair that he just got to win because I forfeited the last competition. I was injured!”

Finn nodded in agreement, just as he had every other time you’d told him this story.

Feeling a little bit guilty, you pushed your tirade aside and tried to focus on dinner. A bet from Senior year wasn’t really important in the long run. All that mattered was that you and Jimin had ended up at the same place.

Still – you couldn’t help but worry he’d pop up one day to make good on the promise. You still hadn’t told him he was the better dancer; it’d be even more humiliating to do so now, surrounded by all your classmates from Russet.

“Anyways,” you said with a sigh. “Enough about him. How was your day?”

Finn began a story about the supposed shower-caddy thief on his floor and you settled back, nodding and laughing at all the right times. Listening to Finn talk was comforting. He reminded you of home, of family dinners and long drives and date nights at the movie theatre.

Being in his presence felt like second semester Senior year – that invincible feeling of knowing where you were headed and feeling unstoppable. Having him in the city made the transition to Russet slightly less terrifying. He was your single known in a future of unknowns.

Well, except for Jimin. Jimin was also known, but in the opposite way. The thought of him was anything but calming; he made your jaw clench, blood pound and heart start to race.

Even in looks, Jimin was the complete opposite of Finn. Where Finn had floppy, brown curls, Jimin’s blonde hair was usually swept back from his face. Finn was a light-hearted guy, always talking with his hands and laughing at nothing, whereas Jimin was nothing but intense. Every time you saw him at competitions, he was either practicing or sleeping. There was no in-between.

Finn took things one day at a time, which was something you envied. You always felt you were hurtling towards something, the days passing by too quickly to do everything that you wanted. It was part of what made you a good couple, you decided. Finn took things slowly and you sped him up.

Aside from his major, Finn’s future was wide open. He had no real direction other than to learn and have fun, which you also envied. As much as you wanted to have fun at Russet, you knew there wasn’t much time on your chosen career path. Each second counted and you couldn’t afford to waste one.

Starting that night.

Finn walked with you back to campus, dropping you off at Grace Hall with a lingering kiss. It became more heated than you anticipated, each of you panting when you broke things off to head inside. It had been a week since he’d come to Redfield, which was the longest you’d been apart since you lost your virginity to Finn at the start of the summer.

The sex had been good as of late, but Noelle was inside and you had no desire to hook up with your boyfriend in the bushes outside your dorm.

Once you’d returned, you collapsed on your futon and groaned when you read the schedule for tomorrow.

Noelle laughed from her bed. “Copson’s ballet class?”

“Copson’s ballet class,” you agreed with a sigh.

Vlad Copson was known, even to the incoming freshmen. He was a brilliant dancer and choreographer, but utterly terrifying as a teacher. Rumor had it every freshman was assigned to him their first year just to lower the class number from eighty to seventy.

You didn’t believe this, of course, but that didn’t keep your insides from churning. As you tried to fall sleep later that night, you realized with certainty that this was a beginning. Everything you’d done before now, everything you’d once achieved no longer mattered.

Everyone at Russet was on the same foot and all that mattered was what lay before you. Not at all cheered by this thought, you pulled up your covers and eventually fell asleep.

Vlad Copson turned out to be exactly what you had pictured; an immaculate man with a stern demeanor, wearing the exact same dress code he expected of his students.

He stood before the class the next morning, next to the stereo with both hands clasped before him.

“Welcome,” he said, looking over his students. “I’m Vlad Copson, but you may call me Mr. Vlad for the duration of class. This is Ballet, Level 1.”

Approximately twenty faces stared back, caught in a mixture of certain awe and terror. You knew yourself to be among them, standing at the back of the room with Irene and Noelle. You’d been relieved to find them both in your classes, since there were two other schedules they could’ve been sorted into.

Unfortunately for you though, prep school Sabrina and hellion Jimin were also part of your schedule. They stood at the front on the opposite side and you did your best not to look at them, knowing no good would come from it.

Everyone in class was dressed exactly the same. The women wore leotards, buns, ballet belts, tights and pointe shoes. By this stage in your career, you were expected to do the entirety of ballet class on pointe. There had been much rosin-ing and banging of shoes before the class had started.

“Thank you to those who were on time,” Mr. Vlad said, casting a pointed glance at a boy near the front. Said boy had entered the room a few seconds after 8:00 AM. “For today, I’ll be lenient and let everyone stay. From now on though, class will start promptly on the hour. Those who aren’t ready will be asked to leave and come back when they can respect my time. Understood?”

A ripple of voices chorused yes.

“Good.” Mr. Vlad arched a brow. “You may have heard I’m a tough teacher. This is true. I am hard on my students, since you’re expected to be the best. Do you know how many applications Russet received this year alone? Nearly two thousand, and these were only from those who felt qualified to apply. Russet is a once in a lifetime opportunity, so I expect everyone who enters my classroom to act like it.”

Listening to him speak sent a bead of sweat down your neck. Although he didn’t say it specifically, you knew what Mr. Vlad meant. There were two thousand qualified individuals waiting to take your place if you failed. And that didn’t even include other students at the Academy, or even other dancers who waited out in the real world.

“For those who make it to the end, this will be a life-changing event.” Mr. Vlad paused. “There are teachers here who are far better than I – and I’m considered to be one of the best in the world. You’ll be pushed to your limits, but you’ll also grow at a tremendous pace. We gave you a spot because we believe in each of you. Prove us wrong, though,” he warned. “And that will be that.”

A lingering silence fell and in that quiet, you and Noelle glanced at each other. Again, you were glad for a friendly face. The entire speech would’ve been unbearable without one.

The boy who’d been late was as red as a tomato, clearly embarrassed at having been singled out. You would’ve felt bad, except you knew it wouldn’t be the last time Mr. Vlad put someone on the spot. The attention could easily swing to you before the end of class.

“That’s enough chit-chat, I think.” Mr. Vlad turned towards the stereo. “We’ll start at the barre.”

No one moved and once he’d reached the music, he arched a brow. “Why is everyone still standing in the center, gawking? Barre!”

Had you been watching from outside, it might’ve seemed comical how quickly everyone scattered. You and Noelle chose a barre near the front, setting water bottles down and moving to stand at the center.

Placing yourself in first position, you turned your head and surveyed yourself in the mirror.

“Eyes on me, not the mirror!” Mr. Vlad called, forcing your gaze his way. “Before we get started, I’ll assign your ballet partners for the semester. You won’t do anything with them until across the floor, but I hate to disrupt our flow later on. When I call your name, raise your hand.”

Your heart sank as you turned to face forward.

This was something you’d known was coming. Ballet partnering was part of the set first year curriculum, but you’d been under the severe misimpression you’d be allowed to choose your own partner. Information on the process had been limited and you’d heard conflicting accounts from upperclassman before your arrival. Apparently, the teachers did something different each year.

“Ahn, Irene!”

Irene raised her hand, waiting awkwardly to hear her partner’s name.

“Olson, Brian! You two are partners.”

The red-faced late boy looked at Irene in alarm, then nodded. Irene nodded as well, lowering her hand and Noelle winced.

“Sucks,” she muttered beneath her breath. “Already paired with trouble.”

Privately, you agreed. It’d be unfortunate to be partnered with someone who’d already been singled out. You could only hope your assigned partner would be better than that.

Mr. Vlad turned. “Y/L/N, Y/N!”

Your hand immediately lifted, waiting for what seemed like forever, until –

“Park, Jimin!”

Author’s Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JIMIN! Thank you for reading 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre will be posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTER LIST

#btsbookclub #smutcentralnet #bangtanarmynet #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts series #jimin series #jimin writing #bts writing #bts e2l #jimin e2l

2K notes · View notes

giftedsupport · 2 years ago

Note

Good afternoon.

First of all, thanks for your blog! There are not many resources for gifted adults, and pages like this help me feel a sense of belonging.

It took me an embarrassingly long time to muster up the courage to ask for your opinion on the matter, so, If you have a spare minute to answer I would really appreciate it!

The thing is, I feel a strong connection to the label but at the same time I have a lot of doubt and insecurity about my right to this identity.

I scored 145 on IQ test, I was in something resembling a gifted program in linguistics in 7-9 grade, I have a lot of different interests, a strong innate curiosity and I feel most comfortable around people who are involved in academia in some way. I enjoy art, writing essays, philosophy, acting, gymnastics, reading, math and my ultimate goal is to go to med school. Actually, I had a near-death experience once due to a medical condition and all I could think about was that it would be so miserable to die while not being a doctor.

But on the other hand, I graduated from high school with great difficulty, had a terrible academic performance throughout the whole time and have no "real" achievements. Since I finished school I didn't do much. I'm severely depressed to the point where I had urinary tract infections because I couldn't get out of bed just to go to the bathroom for hours.

I'm also diagnosed with autism, ADHD, a personality disorder and cptsd.

I think this is typical 2e experience, but while I have no doubts about being disabled I have an impostor syndrome towards the second "e".

Based on this description, do you think I am gifted?

Best wishes!

— A. R.

PS; sorry for possible grammatical errors, I am not a native speaker.

You're gifted.

No question about it. Pretty much the only (semi-) objective way we have to evaluate whether somebody is gifted is an IQ test: if you score over 129, you are gifted. Your IQ was scored at 145, so you are definitely gifted!

You have also been diagnosed with a number of mental health conditions, so yes, you are definitely also twice-exceptional!

Here's the thing: giftedness is not about what you achieve. People are always trying to tie giftedness to academic and career achievement, but the truth is, gifted is something you are, not something you do. Some gifted people have really obvious achievements that our culture values. Some gifted people don't. It doesn't make them any less gifted!

People think that being gifted makes life easy, but the truth is that life can be extra hard for gifted people. We tend to be naturally extremely sensitive, both physically and emotionally, which can make daily tasks that other people find easy much harder for us. Add to that all the other things you've listed that you are struggling with, and WOW. Honey, you are achieving amazing things every day just by surviving. I have c-ptsd myself, and it's a bitch. I know what I'm saying here: Forget what other people might call achievements. You should be proud of yourself that you're still hanging in there.

If life is a race, then the starting line is at different places for different people. Some people have it easy: their starting line is really close to the end of the track. Your starting line is waaaaay back because you're dealing with so much. So don't beat yourself up for not reaching the end of the track as quickly as other people!

I also want to send you a little encouragement. Things may be really tough right now, but that doesn't mean they always will be. I also say this from personal experience. Sometimes we go through really difficult stages in our lives where everything seems nearly impossible. I went through one myself. I'm coming out of it now, and things are looking more hopeful. Keep going: there may be better things waiting for you than you have any idea of now.

(Also, if you're not already getting mental health help for the stuff you're going through right now, I want to encourage you to try to do that. In particular, if you have cptsd, a therapist who is specifically formally trained in treating trauma is probably your best bet!)

#gifted #gifted adult #giftedness #gifted kids #former gifted kid

18 notes · View notes

xxxsweetdreamzxxx · 4 years ago

Text

warnings/tags: dom!Yixing sub!reader, fanfic, smut, slight fluff; cursing, size kink, fingering, unprotected sex, railing, cream pie

summary: over a weekend, the sexual tensions between you and your best friend Yixing come to a breaking point

word count: 4.7k (um, wow)

===============================

i went all out on this one, hope you all enjoy!!

P.S. only the ending is based on a dream this time, I made up the rest :>

===============================

"What are your plans for this weekend?" You asked the two men in front of you.

The three of you sat around a small round table outside your favorite local coffee shop, a few blocks from your work. Around you, the city buzzed in the excitement of mid-day. The autumn sun peeked through whatever gaps in the buildings it could to light up the streets below. Every now and then, the sounds of downtown - a speeding car, a siren - would interrupt the conversation.

Their answers to your question were both something along the lines of 'absolutely nothing' with looks of dread for the boredom to come.

"Why do you ask?" Junmyeon, the one to your left, asked.

Shrugging your shoulders and peering into your nearly empty coffee cup you replied: "I don't know, I was maybe hoping I could tag along with one of you since I don't have anything to do either."

To your right, Yixing was quiet and deep in thought. "I know." He suddenly announced. "Let's go camping!"

You pondered the idea for a moment. The chance to completely disconnect from and forget about the stresses of adult life - even if just for a couple of days? Not to mention a whole weekend alone with your two favorite people in the whole world. Sounded better than any other activities you could think of at the moment.

"Sure why not." you agreed, looking to Junmyeon. "Are you coming with?"

"I'll have to be back Sunday night, but sure."

"We'll bring two cars then, since me and y/n don't have to get back until sometime Monday." Yixing proposed.

Junmyeon knowingly smiled at him. "Must be nice getting a long weekend, I should join you guys' office."

The conversation trailed off into unrelated chatter, until your lunch breaks were up. Parting ways with Junmyeon, you and Yixing walked back to your building a few blocks away, continuing the conversation alone.

In your sophomore year of high school, the two of you had become fast friends, both having the same interests and intended career path. He had then introduced you to his friend Junmyeon, and although you didn't have as much in common with him as Yixing, his easy-going personality made you warm up to him quickly. Throughout the remaining two years of high school, the three of you had been inseparable. You didn't even have any girl friends, but you didn't need any with the boys always around.

Although, you would be lying if you said you'd never caught feelings for either of them. The truth was both were very attractive and had girls falling for them left and right. Multiple times over the years you yourself had gone through phases of having a crush on one, then the other until finally you decided it wasn't worth potentially ruining the friendship. These days, those feelings were rare - and dismissed as quickly as they came up.

Entering your office building, the two of you rode the elevator up to your floor. Exiting quickly through the still-opening doors, you said your goodbyes to Yixing for the rest of the afternoon with a slight wave as you both headed to your individual desks.

.•°•. _ .•°•. _ .•°•. _ .•°•.

The rest of the week was uneventful, work progressed at the office smoothly. Later on that day, you'd gotten out of the shower after work to find Yixing and Junmyeon already texting in your group chat and making plans. Junmyeon was in charge of food and drinks. Yixing had a large tent that could be used, and would pick you up Saturday morning.

y/n: you guys have to leave at least one thing for me to do

not_a_sheep: bring yourself

y/n: very funny

suh01: don't worry y/n, we'll work your ass off once we get there

not_a_sheep: we? I never agreed to this

y/n: promise

suh01: i'll make sure of it

y/n: lol k

y/n: I can also bring equipment like flashlights and first aid just in case

not_a_sheep: good idea

And so it was that you awoke early on Saturday, pulling your hair into a loose ponytail. You dressed in some light denim shorts, a tank top, and a cropped jacket that provided just enough warmth until the day heated up. You kept your makeup natural, so if it was damaged by the outdoors in any way it wouldn't be noticeable.

Feeling your phone buzz in your pocket, you quickly opened it to the lockscreen and glanced at Yixing's text signaling his arrival. Grabbing the backpack you'd packed the night before, you slid on your sneakers and headed out of your apartment and to the street. There he was waiting for you, Junmyeon sitting behind him in his car. Waving briefly at Junmyeon, you turned to Yixing's car as he rolled down the window.

"You can toss your bag in the backseat." He instructed, smiling at you.

Doing so, you then got in the passenger seat, closing the car door. He sped off in the direction of the country with Junmyeon following close behind. You picked up the soft sound of music playing at a low volume through the speaker. Only when he turned the volume louder did you realize he was playing your shared favorite band on the radio. Turning to smile at him, you saw he'd been waiting to see your reaction and once he did a grin spread across his face. God was that a cute grin.

You ignored how flushed you suddenly felt by averting your gaze and singing along to the music. And that's what you continued to do for the next two hours. You didn't hold back one bit, you were so comfortable with each other. Your voices mixed in a passionate duet - you both knew every line the lead singer sung.

Before you knew it, you were racing past open plains and small pine forests with no signs of civilization in sight. After passing by a few potential spots to set up camp, he pulled off the road near the edge of a forest and field. Rolling through the bumpy grass for a minute or two, he finally stopped and parked the car once the road was out of view.

"Wow, we're in the middle of nowhere." You observed, exiting the car and taking a look around.

"It's perfect!" Junmyeon called, walking over from his car which was parked a little ways away. Once he'd gotten closer, he spoke again at a normal volume. "So, what did I miss out on in the past two hours?"

"Only a concert sung by y/n and yours truly." Yixing replied with a shrug.

At this Junmyeon laughed. Leaving the boys to talk about the drive, you walked around to the trunk of the car. Opening it, you took the tent out which was still folded up in its bag.

"Where should we set this up?" You asked, holding it up for them to see.

"Somewhere near those trees." Yixing pointed. As you began carrying it over, you heard him call out to you again. "Hey y/n, Junmyeon and I are going to quickly gather some firewood for later!"

"Alright!" You yelled without looking back.

You walked over to the flat area that he'd instructed, a few yards from the trees. Making sure the cars were still in sight, you sat the tent down and began to unpack it, separating the pieces. Unfolding the stiff main walls of the tent, you attempted to flip the thing right-side up - except now it was too big for you to move. You tried a few more times before stepping back for a moment so you could muster up all your energy.

You felt someone standing behind you the second before they tapped you on the shoulder. Startled, you spun around to find Yixing right next to you with that grin on his face. Behind him you could see a pile of fallen branches he'd set on the ground.

"Need some help?" He asked.

Sighing, you smiled at him in defeat. "Sure."

Each taking one side of the tent, you easily flipped it over with his assistance. It consisted of a single large interior room and a separate screened "porch" in the front. You then found a rock that fit in the palm of your hand, and used it to pound one of the stakes on a corner of the tent into the ground. It worked well. Moving to do the same on the next stake, you bent over to reach it. You could feel Yixing's eyes glued on your figure the whole time you drove the stake into the earth.

Straightening up, you glanced at him with a teasing look on your face. "What?"

Embarrassed that he'd been caught, he quickly looked away and acted like he was going to work on one of the stakes that you hadn't gotten to yet.

"Yixing, did you need something?" You asked in the same tone, subconsciously very aware of his intent but refusing to fully acknowledge it.

Chasing him down around to the other side of the tent, you found him still avoiding your eyes, a slight pink painted across his cheeks. "Can I use that rock?" He asked, refusing to make eye contact.

"Oh, sure." You replied, handing it to him. You were stopped from making any further comment by Junmyeon's approach, branches in his arms.

"Who wants lunch?" He asked, dumping the wood with the rest.

"Me!" You were starved after not eating breakfast.

Heading off to his car, you decided to keep it silent between you and Yixing as you waited for Junmyeon to return. He returned with some sandwiches he'd prepared for all of you, and nothing was said for minutes as you devoured them. Then the idea of a hike was brought up and agreed to.

After finishing every bite of your lunch, water bottles were gathered and the three of you made your way into the forest. Junmyeon led, while Yixing was in the middle and you brought up the rear. You soon came across a creek, and decided to follow it so you could easily retrace your steps when you decided to head back.

Yixing's back was facing you as you followed him along the trail that Junmyeon chose. With him in your view the entire time, you couldn't help but take note of his broad shoulders, his tight ass. The way his sculpted muscles moved as he walked showed his strength - it was all very attractive. Continuously you were shoving these thoughts from your mind only for them to return again. 'He's my friend.' You reminded yourself. 'I can't think like this.'

Eventually you opted to just stare at the ground until you got back to the tent - several hours later. By the time you returned, the three of you were exhausted, muscles aching. The sun was already lowering in the sky, turning it all shades of orange, pink, and yellow. Grabbing the wood gathered earlier, the boys built a bonfire the best they could while you went to grab the marshmallows out of Junmyeon's car.

When you returned, the wood was already ablaze. They'd created the perfect campfire, setting the biggest logs flat on the ground as seats. It was just dark enough now that the fire created a barely visible glow that warmed the ground and air near it. Already sitting, they turned to look your way at your approach, Yixing's face lighting up with the sight of the marshmallow bag in your hand. His grin made your face feel hot and you quickly looked at Junmyeon instead, who smiled at you, understanding conveyed in his gaze.

This exchange made you blush further, as you looked down at the grass and sat down next to Yixing on a log. Why did you feel this way? And why the fuck did you just sit next to him? Maybe you were just going through another phase of crushing on one of your best friends. These thoughts ran through your mind as you focused on opening the marshmallow bag. 'Nothing'll come from it, as usual.' You reminded yourself.

Pushing these thoughts to the back of your mind again, you asked: "Do we have some sticks for this?"

"Here." Junmyeon replied, leaning over to hand you some he'd gathered. It occurred to you that this whole time he'd been watching you, reading you.

The sky darkened, and the night got late. The three of you ate marshmallows, both golden and burned. Stories of all genres were told by everyone. Laughter filled the air. At some point, drinks were brought out, and enough was had to the point that everyone was tipsy. The tales became more ridiculous, small secrets were spilled without any thought. But it was okay, you probably wouldn't remember any of it by morning.

Slowly, one by one, you began making your way to the tent as time creeped into the early hours of the morning. Junmyeon was first, followed shortly by Yixing after he'd put out the fire. He asked if you were coming too, and you replied with something like "in a minute."

When you did stumble your way over to the tent several minutes later, you moved to open it when you heard hushed voices. They were practically whispering, but bless your good hearing - you could just make out most of the words.

"Are you sure?" Yixing asked, excitement detectable in even his whisper.

"I think so," Junmyeon replied, "...can't look at you... blushing..."

You put your ear even closer to the tent wall, struggling to hear Junmyeon.

"I'm scared to make a move." Yixing confessed. "I'm scared I'll ruin everything."

Then Junmyeon said something inaudible.

In your drunken state, none of these words made sense. Did he have crush on somebody? Deciding you couldn't stay awake out there any longer, you finally entered the tent. They already lay on the ground, falling asleep. Junmyeon acknowledged your presence with a soft "hey" before rolling over on his side to face the wall of the tent. Yixing lay in the middle. You slowly crawled next to him on the other side and laid down.

After a few minutes, Yixing spoke the last words you heard before drifting off to sleep. "Goodnight y/n."

.•°•. _ .•°•. _ .•°•. _ .•°•.

The light of the late morning sun filtered through your lashes as you blinked open your eyes. The first thing you noticed was the throbbing in your head, the second was the arms securely wrapped around you from behind. Remembering the sleeping arrangement the night before, you quickly realized it was Yixing, spooning you like a child hugging onto its favorite plushie. At this revelation, your heart began pounding rapidly.

You reached to touch his hand. "Yi- yixing?" You asked in a quiet voice.

"Hmm..?" He moaned, semi-awake.

For painfully long moments he continued holding you as he fully awoke and assessed the situation. When he realized he suddenly pulled away, sitting up and mouthing a "sorry," hoping Junmyeon wouldn't hear. Taking deep breaths to calm your heart, you sat up as well.

"What time is it?" You asked in the same tiny voice.

He grabbed his phone off of the ground and looked at the time, surprised by it. "10:23."

"Ugh." You groaned, rubbing your forehead. "My head's killing me."

At this, Yixing became concerned. "Do we have pain killers?"

"Yeah, in my emergency bag." You replied, still holding your head with your hand.

"I'll go get them." He said without a second thought, quickly exiting the tent. Not two minutes later, he came back pills in hand.

"Do you have water?" He asked.

At your motion to your water bottle a few feet away, he leaned over and grabbed it. Opening the pill bottle, he took out a dose and handed it to you. Then he did the same with your water. He made sure you took and swallowed them, concern never leaving his expression.

"Isn't your head hurting too?" You asked.

"A bit, but I'll take care of it after you start feeling better." He replied. "You're more important."

Not knowing whether to take that as a compliment or not, you pouted. "No I'm not, you're equally important. Where's your water?"

"Gone since yesterday."

After thinking a moment, you held out your water bottle to him. "Here."

He stared into your eyes, a little taken aback but looking to see if you were truly fine with it. For once, you met and held his gaze, letting him know you were. Taking the bottle from your hand, he swallowed the pain killers. You watched as the tip of your bottle that had been on your lips moments before touched his. But it was the way that he tilted his head back as he took a sip that made your indecent thoughts return. You snapped your head towards the wall, covering your reddening face with your hand.

He set the bottle down again, not noticing your state. "Thanks y/n."

He then moved to exit the tent again, waking Junmyeon. After rubbing his eyes and running his fingers through his hair, Junmyeon left you in the tent alone, still just as flustered and replaying the morning's events in your head for minutes on end.

After you'd calmed down, the rest of the morning and afternoon flew by. Pretending like nothing happened, the three of you went about activities similarly to yesterday. You had brunch, then walked into the forest again, heading for the creek. This time, you went in, the coolness of the water refreshing from the mid-day heat of the sun. After splashing around and playing for hours, you returned back to the campsite and roasted some sausages over the fire for dinner. When the last bite had been finished, the three of you continued talking right up until the end of your time together.

Standing up from a log, Junmyeon sighed. "Well you two, I've gotta bounce. I'll leave what food's left with you."

"Aight man." Yixing stood up, giving him a quick hug. "See you in a few days."

Yixing then said something quiet to him, causing Junmyeon to nod.

"Bye y/n!" Junmyeon called, waving at you.

A little confused that he wasn't offering a hug as usual, you didn't voice it and waved back. "Bye!"

With a smile, he turned and walked to his car. After removing the cooler with food inside, he took off, leaving you alone with Yixing. On your own, not as much was said, you chose your words more carefully. He started the fire up again with some new wood that had been gathered that day. You sat on separate logs, slowly conversing as the sky became colorful, then dark. This night was a bit cooler than the last, and you began to shiver slightly.

During an awkward silence, he noticed this. Without saying anything, he reached out an arm, inviting you to sit on the same log as him. Heart rate speeding up a bit at the thought, you shuffled over to sit beside him after no hesitation. Wrapping his right arm around you, he pulled you close.

"Better?" He asked, smiling a sweet smile.

"Mmmh." You agreed, trying to loosen the way your body had tensed.

The minutes ticked by, and the only thing you could hear was the pounding of your heart deafening your ears. Then your worst fears came true.

"Y/n... is that your heartbeat?" He questioned.

When you refused to answer, mind racing, he pulled your face around to look at him, hand on your cheek. "Hey, are you alright? Your face is burning up."

In that moment, a feeling overcame you. Maybe it was because of the way he cared so much, the genuine concern he expressed. Or how you felt infinitely safe around him in a way you couldn't describe. Although, it could've also easily been the way the firelight danced off his tan skin. The way it lit up his warm brown eyes more powerfully than the sunlight could ever dream of. It could've been any combination of those things or others. But something compelled you to pull down his face to yours, brushing your lips across his in a soft kiss.

Snapping out of it, you pulled away, seeing the shock on his face. "Oh my god, Yixing I'm so sorry I-"

You were cut off as he kissed you back, a long deep kiss that you melted into. When you finally pulled apart, you giggled at how stupid you'd been.

"What?" He asked, smirking.

"I'm so blind. I thought you didn't like me in this way."

He shook his head. "I have for a long time y/n."

As he met your lips again, your heart felt as though it was soaring above the clouds. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you ran your fingers through the hair at its base. Quickening the pace of your kisses, you began to breathe heavier. Panting, you felt him pick you up by your waist and place you on his lap. You began to grind your hips down into his. Groaning, he quickly stopped you by gripping them, firmly holding you in place.

"Slow... down.." He panted, speaking between your kisses.

"But- I want this." You told him, meaning every word. The wetness already pooling between you legs confirmed it.

At your spoken consent, he released his grip on your hips. Straddling him, you began moving again, slower than before like he'd instructed. A growing bulge felt between your legs made you keenly aware of his arousal. A stronger thrust on your part made him grunt and swear against your lips.

"Shit y/n."

Suddenly you both lost your balance, crashing onto the grass a few feet away. You were only on top for the few seconds it took him to remove your shirt before he rolled you under him, pinning you in place. He took control of the pace, speeding it up. Being completely engulfed in his shadow made you want him more.

Spreading your legs wider, he unbuttoned your shorts and began pulling them down. Then he tugged at the waistband of your soaked panties and pulled them down to your ankles as well. Fully exposed to him, the scent of your arousal mixed with the smokiness in the air, penetrating your sense of smell. There was no way he wasn't aware of it too. You felt him move a hand down your body towards your naked heat.

When you felt the first touch of his fingertips against your folds, trembles rocked your body. You forced yourself to relax, settling down into the soft grass. Only to get excited again as he started tracing fast circles with his thumb on your clit, spreading your slick. You felt him smirk at how wet he'd made you. You arched your back up off the ground, moaning at the pleasure.

Beginning to feel your high building, you didn't warn him just yet. But unexpectedly, he inserted two fingers into your dripping pussy without warning. You cried out, sucking in a sharp breath as you flexed your walls and came onto his finger all in seconds. A little surprised, he pulled them out. Whimpering, you rode out your first orgasm underneath him.

After you'd calmed down a bit you moved to unbuckle his pants. He held your hand away for a moment.

"Y/n, I didn't bring a condom. And... I don't want to hurt you." He said carefully.

"I..." you panted, "don't care... I can take it." Another breath. "Just take care of me afterwards."

After hesitating a moment, he let go of your hand, and assisted you in removing his clothes. First his pants, then shirt, then his boxers. Springing free from the fabric, his cock stood erect as you took it in. It had good length, but its girth was what made you lay your head back on the grass and prepare yourself. The following seconds inched by as he moved towards you.

Pulling him down closer onto your body, you led him into another round of rough kisses as you felt the tip of his cock brush against your clit. Taking his hand in yours, you intertwined your fingers with his, waiting.

Pain shot through you as he slid into you harshly with a single thrust. Pushing deeper, he used his strength until he was balls deep in just two. He filled you up so much, almost too much. Bitting your lip, you did your best to adjust to his size. But he didn't give you much of a chance to, as he pulled out entirely after only being inside for a few seconds. The empty feeling was more painful than the full. You throbbed, desperately needing him back.

Thankfully he didn't wait long before fulfilling this as he repeated himself multiple times. Your combined pants and moans filled the night air as he forcefully fucked you into oblivion. It didn't take much of this to cause your second high. Aggressively pounding into you again for the unknownth time, he hit that sweet spot. Your mouth fell open and you gripped some blades of grass next to you with your free hand.

"Th- there-" you managed.

Understanding, he didn't remove himself fully again, only doing so partially before angling himself to hit the same spot. He only did so twice before you came undone for the second time that night.

"Yixing!" You cried out too late.

You clenched around his cock, feeling it twitch inside you. He swore, arms becoming shaky and breath choppy, warning you right before he came. Hot strings of his cum shot through you, filled you up to the brim. Your combined wetness then spilled out of you onto your inner thighs and the grass. Pulling out completely, he flopped down onto the ground next to you, grinning and breathing heavily.

Reaching out to touch his face, he held your hand against it. Then he pulled you closer, kissing your swollen lips gently. Parting, he looked into your eyes and smiled. You still couldn't look at him in this way without blushing, but it didn't matter anymore. Taking you into his arms, he held you as exhaustion caught up with you. Not a word was said, but none had to be for you both to know the mutual happiness you felt.

.•°•. _ .•°•. _ .•°•. _ .•°•.

You awoke to the sun peaking over the eastern horizon, lighting up the nature around you. Laying on your side, you felt something warm pressed up against your back. Rolling over onto your other side, you winced at the prickling of the grass on your bare skin and the soreness between your legs. You saw it was your best friend's bare chest that had been pressed against your back. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully, slightly curled around your body.

Realization hit you as you remembered the events of last night. Eyes widening, you gasped and covered your face with your hands in embarrassment. Peaking through your fingers, you saw his eyes were now open, that same adorable grin plastered across his face.

"Morning honey." He stretched a bit before realizing where you both lay. "Oh god, did we fall asleep here?"

"Mhmhmm." You replied with a nod.

Sitting up, he grabbed his pants and pulled them on before standing. Offering you a hand, you accepted it and tried to use your legs. Immediately they buckled under you. No way were you walking to the tent.

"Whoa!" He exclaimed as he prevented you from falling. He then scooped you up from the ground and into his arms.

"What the hell have you done to me?" You playfully asked, poking his cheek.

"I'm so sorry." He replied in a serious tone.

"Hey!" You scolded, not meaning to make him feel bad. "I asked for it."

He side eyed you as he carried you into the tent, smirking slightly. "Yeah you did."

Setting you down on the floor, he laid down next to you, cuddling up to you again. A few soft words and kisses were exchanged as you drifted off to sleep together again. It looked like this was what the rest of your trip would consist of, and you'd be lying if you said the thought didn't please you.

198 notes · View notes

ncssian · 4 years ago

Text

A Favor: Bonus Scene Two (Gwynriel)

Masterlist

a/n: this picks up right after nesta leaves gwyn’s apartment in Part 24. warning for discussions of sex, obviously.

***

As soon as the apartment door shuts after Nesta, Gwyn releases a breath and turns to Azriel with a wide gaze. “Do I really have to teach you guitar?” she says.

“Of course not.” He rolls his eyes. It was a throwaway line meant to get Nesta off his back, and even she didn’t entirely believe it. He moves toward the kitchen to get a glass of water, still shaken from Nesta storming into Gwyn’s bedroom like that. Not that she interrupted much. Gwyn still has a long way to go before she can handle anyone touching her between her legs, Azriel thinks.

He never asked Gwyn what a twenty-seven year old woman was so afraid of sex for when she first suggested her proposal to him. She looked so scared that he would question her that he couldn’t bring himself to poke even a little bit. Not that he needs to poke. He’s not a fucking idiot, and Gwyn’s thighs had been trembling in involuntary fear under his hands earlier. She’s been hurt.

For her sake, he pretends to remain ignorant and incurious, but right now his grip on the glass in his hand is so tight it might shatter. His face remains cool as he pours himself water.

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Gwyn hops up onto the kitchen counter and swings her freakishly long legs. “About what you get out of our deal?”

“I don’t expect you to teach me sex for free, obviously,” Gwyn blabbered the day after they got back from the ski lodge. “You can ask for something from me, too. Even money, if that’s your thing.”

Prostitution was not Azriel’s thing, though he wouldn’t knock it. The truth was that his brain had started turning as soon as Gwyn told him about her idea, and now it couldn’t stop. Oddly enough, this opportunity was perfect.

“Tell Nesta that I’m using you as a rebound?” Azriel nearly snorts on his water. “Did you miss the part where she almost cut my dick off and choked me with it?”

Gwyn hums noncommittally. “Being a distraction from your ex is better for me than it is for you. It’s insurance that you won’t get any funny ideas.” She narrows her teal eyes at him. “If you find yourself moving on from Nesta’s hot sister, you better tell me right away. I’ll end this whole thing quickly and cleanly.”

“Why?” He thought moving on from Elain was the goal, one he was unlikely to achieve.

“You know.” She crosses her arms in an X over her chest like she’s warding him off. “You might catch—feelings for me.”

This time Azriel really does snort on his water, hard. His laughter turns into coughing when it slips down the wrong pipe, and liquid dribbles onto his shirt. Gwyn just sits there and stares at him in vague disgust.

When he’s done choking, he wipes his mouth with the hem of his tee and gasps, “Even without Elain, you wouldn’t need to worry about that. Trust me.”

Gwyn wrinkles her freckled nose in distaste. “I would be offended if I wasn’t so relieved.”

He’s still chuckling when Gwyn says cautiously, “By the way…” She chews on the inside of her cheek. “Did you really ghost Elain?”

Azriel is no longer amused.

“When you said you broke up with her, I thought you actually broke up with her,” Gwyn continues. “I didn’t know you were one of those guys.”

Shame tinged with embarrassment floods Azriel, and he doesn’t have the slightest idea why. Why does it matter what Gwyn of all people thinks of him, especially when she doesn’t have all the details?

He thought he was making things easier for Elain by leaving without a word. He thought she would let him slip out of her mind after a couple of weeks just like he slipped out of her life, and that it would be better than having to hear him dump his insecurities on her.

He knows now that he was only making things easier for himself. Knows that if he had stayed and talked things out with Elain, she would have convinced him to stay. If he had called her at all in the past two months, he would have gone running back to Velaris like a sailor answering a siren’s song.

She’s always been a siren—which is why he can’t regret doing what would have happened eventually anyway. Even without that Vanserra bastard or some other man, Elain could never have been a permanent fixture in Azriel’s life. Little details sprinkled throughout their time together confirm that for him now.

That doesn’t mean Elain deserved it, or deserves it now. Azriel knows that.

But all he can think of to say to Gwyn is, “Yeah, maybe I am one of those guys.” He puts his glass in the sink. “You still want me as your teacher?”

Gwyn shrugs, looking away. “It’s not like I’ve got any other choice.”

Azriel would disagree. He says what he’s been thinking since they got back from Cassian’s birthday trip. “Wouldn’t you rather do this with someone you love and trust?”

“God no,” Gwyn snorts, providing no further explanation.

Azriel can understand being hesitant to admit sexual inexperience to a crush, but it doesn’t stop him from judging Gwyn’s new man. If this coworker of hers is so great, wouldn’t she be able to trust him unabashedly with her insecurities? Wouldn’t he readily accept her for all that she is?

Ugh, he’s been dipping into Nesta’s reading collection too much lately. “Alright, then.” He leans against the counter opposite Gwyn. “Let’s talk about learning. You clammed up in bed back there after ignoring my suggestions and shoving my head between your legs.”

“I clammed up because of my best friend barging into my room and catching us together,” Gwyn defends.

“Your pussy was dry as bread before that,” he retorts. Ooh, now he wants toast.

Gwyn turns a furious shade of red while Azriel starts looking around for bread. He finds it sitting by the toaster. “Can you not say that?” she hisses at him.

“What?” He looks up from dropping bread into the toaster.

“You know…” She glances around cautiously as if someone might overhear. “Pussy.”

“Pussy,” he says again, just to be annoying. Gwyn’s shoulders turn inward in embarrassment, and he has to hold back a grin. Yeah, she’s definitely not ready for oral.

He finds a butter knife and some peanut butter. “I told you to start easy and you ignored me. You tried jumping into the deep end without learning how to tread water.”

Gwyn scoffs. “And what does ‘treading water’ entail again?”

Azriel shrugs, plucking up his finished toast. “Making out, heavy petting, freshman-year-of-high-school kind of stuff.”

“I’ve done that before,” she mutters indignantly. “Maybe not in my freshman year, but I’ve done it.”

He wonders how long ago that was, or if it was before she was—hurt.

“Besides,” Gwyn goes on before he can push the matter further, “I’m not budging on kissing. I want to save that for the man I actually like.”

“You don’t like me?” Azriel raises a brow, slathering peanut butter over his toast. “You definitely don’t act the same with me as you do with other men.” Or at least that’s what he assumes. Up until a short while ago, he never would’ve been able to imagine timid Gwyn having the guts to ask anyone for sex ed. That’s got to make him special, right?

But then Gwyn waves him off and says, “That’s ‘cause you’re not a real man. I knew you before puberty.”

Azriel nearly drops his toast. “Wow, the nerve of this woman,” he mutters with wide eyes. If she keeps this up, he’s going to start regretting ever going to the same school as her. “That’s not what you said when you were going on about how attracted you are to me.”

“I said you were attractive, not that I was attracted.” Gwyn’s blush is more from irritation than shyness now. “You do the job, but you’re no Max.” She giggles at saying his name. Actually giggles. “I’ll only kiss Max.”

“What kind of stupid ass name is Max?” Azriel grumbles through a mouthful of peanut butter.

“It’s short for Maximillian.”

He chokes. “Jesus, that’s even worse.” He’s doing all this work for some guy named Maximillian. Maybe he should just go home and let Nesta give him the beating he deserves.

Except thinking about Nesta only reminds Azriel of what a coward he is, because he fears facing her again almost as much as he fears facing Elain. “By the way, could I…” he starts hesitantly.

Gwyn gives him a judgmental sneer. “You don’t want to go back to the cabin, do you?”

He shakes his head.

“You can’t stay here,” she responds, crushing his hopes. “I have plans tonight, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t let you be such a wimp.” She hops off the counter and comes over to him, surprising him by grabbing both of his shoulders. “Azriel,” she says somberly.

He swallows his toast roughly.

“You have to grow some balls,” she continues. “Not just for your sake, but for the sake of every poor woman in your life. Also, all this drama is personally a turn-off for me, which is detrimental to my sex education.” She wrinkles her nose. “Do better and all that, you know?”

Damn, okay.

Instead of standing there like an idiot, Azriel manages to say, “Fine, I’ll go.” He shoves the rest of his toast into his mouth and dusts off his hands, heading for the living room.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave right now—” Gwyn follows after him. Azriel is already on the couch, pulling a stray notepad and pen on the coffee table closer to himself.

He clicks the pen. “When’s that library guy planning to take you out?” he asks, starting to write.

Gwyn hovers near him, watching the notepad over his shoulder in confusion. “Um, this Saturday. Just a casual coffee shop thing.”

“Then I’ll see you on Friday.” He scribbles down some bullet points and labels the page LESSON PLAN. “Until then, think about a way to enjoy foreplay without kissing. Here are some suggestions so you can practice.” He tears the lined paper out of the notepad and hands it to Gwyn.

Her eyes skim over the page, brows rising with each point she reads. “Is all this really necessary?”

Azriel remembers how he barely brushed his lips against Gwyn’s core before having to pull away and kiss her quivering thigh instead. He can’t have sex with an unaroused woman, and he definitely can’t do it with a terrified woman. “Foreplay is absolutely necessary,” he says, getting up from the couch and stretching to his full height. Where Elain used to only reach his chest, Gwyn’s head almost reaches his nose. It amuses him for some reason.

“Do you like movies?” he adds. “I’ll take you to the movies on Friday.” Preferably something boring and played out, so the theater will be empty and she won’t be paying attention.

Gwyn’s eyes widen. “Is going on dates also part of foreplay?”

“It can be,” Azriel shrugs. It will be when he does it. He drops a hand onto Gwyn’s head and ruffles her hair. “I’d love to stay and help you study, but I have to go and grow some balls.” He mock-frowns at her as he heads for his shoes and keys. “See you later, Gwyneth.”

***

a/n: wait why do i wanna write the movie theater scene now… pls help me im just trying to finish this damn fic im getting too old for this

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99

#ncssianwrites #gwynriel #a favor #bonus scene

197 notes · View notes