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canarygirl1017 · 5 years ago

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Hands On Me - Chapter 1

Pairing: Reader / Jungkook

Genre: College!au, fluff, mild angst, smut

Length: 4,341k words

Warnings: language, sexual themes

Summary: You’d never had much luck with relationships, and experience had taught you to shy away from physical intimacy. But when you started dating your neighbor, Jungkook, you began to think he was worth the risk. College AU.

A/N: Next chapter coming soon. I originally wrote this a few months ago based on a prompt I got from my writer’s group. It was supposed to be college based romance, couple’s first time together, mildly angsty, and include the dialogue “Do you want to break up?” I sort of vaguely pictured JK when I was writing the male lead, at least visually, so I thought I would post it as a reader fan fic, which I’ve never written before. I usually write Marvel fan fic at AO3 in third person (not second person) so this isn’t as natural for me. Also, this is just for funsies because I don’t do real life shipping with real life people, though I do enjoy reading some of the well written fics I’ve seen in the fandom. If people enjoy this one, I might post more as I have a lot of short story prompts I’ve written for my club and don’t do anything with.

Chapter 1

Snuggled up on the sofa watching TV together was how you spent most evenings with your boyfriend, Jungkook. You did a quick clean that morning in anticipation of him coming over since he seemed to prefer being in your space, though it hardly mattered; home was just a few doors down regardless of which apartment you chose to spend time together in.

You shifted your attention from the book you were reading to Jungkook’s profile, fingers itching to trace the sharp jawline that attracted so many women to the gym where he worked as a part-time trainer while he finished university. He also needed a haircut, but he’d shrugged off the suggestion when you mentioned it earlier that week. The slightly longer, inky black locks suited him though.

He was focused on the basketball game that had gone into overtime, his thumb absentmindedly stroking against your hip as you leaned against him. Being close to him was a double-edged sword lately and a reminder that he hadn’t really touched you in a while. Not since that night a few weeks ago.

When you first started dating three months ago, he’d been very physical with you. Dates that ended with kisses at the door had quickly turned into dates that ended with making out on the sofa at his apartment or yours. But during one very heated session on his sofa you got nervous, suddenly worried that things were moving too fast, and you pulled back. To his credit, Jungkook backed off immediately, assuring you that he was fine with following a slower pace.

Your high school boyfriend had pushed for sex and against your better judgment, you’d slept with him after the senior winter formal, only to be devastated when he moved on less than a month later. Similarly, your last boyfriend had been very pushy about sex, and your reluctance was a bone of contention between you until he broke it off.

At twenty-two, Jungkook was a year older, and you knew that he was much more experienced. You’d been neighbors for almost a year now, and you’d seen several of the girls he dated coming and going during that time. You’d never spoken to one another outside the occasional hello in passing until the night you came back from work to find your ex-boyfriend, Mike, drunk and pounding on your door.

Since you didn’t want to let him into your apartment, you stood outside to talk to him. Apparently offended that you wouldn’t let him in, he’d begun berating you loudly enough to have a few neighbors popping their heads out to see what was going on. And in the middle of that embarrassing situation, Jungkook and his friend walked up.

“Hey y/n,” Jungkook said. “Sorry we’re late.”

He slipped an arm around your waist, startling you, though you couldn’t deny you were grateful for the interruption.

His friend chimed in, holding up a takeout bag. “We brought dinner.” You’d seen him around campus and remembered that his name was Jimin.

Mike had eyed Jungkook, as if sizing up a potential fight. But while he had an inch or two on Jungkook in height, Jungkook was all lean muscle and without question the stronger of the two. So, he had backed off, but not before firing off a parting shot. “Good luck with the virgin. Cold fish bitch.”

Your cheeks were burning as he walked away.

Jimin broke the silence. “What an asshole. Does he do this a lot?”

You shook your head. “This is the first time I’ve seen him since we broke up.” You could only assume the alcohol had made him think that you were a potential booty call.

Jungkook frowned as he stepped out of your personal space. “Sorry if I overstepped. I know it’s not my business, but I didn’t like the way he was crowding you at the door and yelling at you.”

“No, I appreciate you getting rid of him,” you answered. “Thank you.”

Jimin held up the takeout bag again. “We really do have dinner. Do you want to join us? Maybe it’s better if you’re not here alone in case he decides to come back.”

You hesitated, but then your stomach growled, a reminder that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast because of a hectic day of classes followed by work at the campus library.

Jungkook smiled. “We’ll take that as a yes.”

You became friends with Jungkook after that night. It was amazing how quickly you’d felt comfortable around him. He was kind and friendly, and he frequently helped the elderly residents of your building. Then one night after he’d shown up at the campus library and walked you the few blocks home, he kissed you. It marked the beginning of your new relationship, and you’d been inseparable ever since.

Unlike the few other guys you had dated, Jungkook had never directly brought up the topic of sex, nor had he pushed for it. You’d had a brief conversation one night about your respective exes. You knew he’d had one serious relationship that ended when he moved away for college and the long-distance relationship proved to be too much of a strain. He’d only dated casually since then, though you’d seen some of his overnight guests leaving his apartment the morning after.

Jungkook knew you’d had a boyfriend in high school, but you hadn’t gone into the details of the breakup. Though it was several years in the past, that rejection still stung, and you didn’t like to talk about it. He’d never asked about Mike other than to ensure you weren’t being harassed. You supposed the drunken scene he and Jimin had witnessed was explanation enough.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you failed to notice the game had ended until Jungkook spoke. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

You looked up to see him watching you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Doing what?”

“Completely zoning out,” he replied with a half-smile. “Is something bothering you?” His chocolate brown eyes studied you intently.

“No,” you said quickly. Maybe too quickly because you could tell he didn’t quite believe you. His tongue pushed against his cheek, something he did when he was thinking about how to deal with a problem.

After a moment, he nodded. “Okay.” He stood up and stretched. “I should get going. I have an early client tomorrow.”

Saturdays were always busy at his gym, and he sometimes worked longer hours on the weekends. “Do you have clients tomorrow night?”

“One,” he confirmed as he pulled on his leather jacket. “Jen’s birthday party is tomorrow, right?”

You nodded as you walked to the door with him. “We’ll be at Carmen’s.” Jen had been planning her birthday for months and wanted a venue with good food, music and dancing. The trendy bar had only been open for about a year, but it was popular for the menu, which included themed cocktails, and the Latin music. You’d been looking at salsa dancing tutorials on YouTube because you were sure that your best friend would insist on hitting the dance floor.

“Okay. Jimin and I will swing by around ten.”

Jimin and Jen were involved in a casual flirtation that they both enjoyed, though you weren’t so sure it was really going anywhere. Jimin was a handsome transfer student studying modern dance, which took up a lot of his time, much to the disappointment of the single girls on campus. And for the two years you’d been friends, you had never known Jen to date anyone seriously. Still, Jen had heavily hinted that she wanted Jimin to come to her birthday party, and so you had told Jungkook to bring him.

“Okay.” You tilted your head back as he leaned down to kiss you goodbye.

You loved kissing him – the way his hands settled on your hips, and the way the first gentle brush of his lips against yours always gave way to slow, deep kisses. Your hands drifted down his chest to his waist, clutching the material of his t-shirt to ground yourself.

It would be so easy to get swept away. By the heat that flared between you. By your feelings. You knew without a doubt that you had fallen hard for him.

Jungkook pulled back, kissing the top of your head before releasing you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You closed the door behind him and locked up, leaning your head against it for a moment. You were beginning to regret letting him leave every night even if you weren’t sure if you were ready for more. You wanted more, but you were afraid of it too. And you had no idea what to do about it.

_________________________________________

You nibbled your bottom lip as you sat on Jen’s bed, watching your friend dig through her closet. “Do you think I should…” you paused, wondering how to broach this topic. While Jen had few conversational barriers, you were more hesitant to talk about sex.

“Should what?” Jen asked, her tone distracted as she pulled out another dress and tossed it over the chair at her desk. She tapped her well-manicured nails against the wall as she studied the contents of her closet before pulling out another dress and dropping it on the chair.

You glanced at the pile of dresses accumulating on the chair. “I thought you were going to wear that new dress you bought last week?”

“This isn’t for me,” Jen stated. “This is for you.”

You failed to contain a snort of laughter. “You’re like six inches taller than me. And I have a dress.” It wasn’t new, and Jen had complained that the dark color washed you out the last time you wore it. But unlike Jen, whose wealthy parents supplied her with credit cards and charge accounts around the city, you couldn’t afford to waste money on clothes. Your parents helped when they could, but you also had three younger siblings still at home and college was only possible because of your scholarships. Living in the city was also expensive; if not for Jungkook contributing to your groceries since you often ate together, you’d probably be eating ramen five nights a week.

“And I’m a fashion design student, so I have time to alter one of these. If I have to see you in that funeral dress again, I’m going to burn it. Worse, do you really want Jungkook to see you in it?” she shuddered as she tossed another dress on the chair. “Okay, I think these are the best options. Now, what were you asking? Do I think you should what?”

You hadn’t considered that Jungkook might also hate that dress. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see what Jen had in mind. Arguing with her was next to impossible anyway.

You helped Jen hang the dresses on a clothes rack in the corner so you could see them better. “Do you think I should sleep with Jungkook?”

Jen raised a brow as she glanced over at you. “Hell yes. Have you talked about it?”

You shook your head. “No. I kind of… I don’t know. Freaked out a little bit a few weeks ago when we were kissing and stuff. It seemed like we were headed there, and I wasn’t sure I was ready, and I know I totally pulled a one eighty on him. And now he barely touches me.”

“Huh.” Jen considered that for a minute. “So things are weird now? Are you afraid he’s going to break up with you or something?”

You hadn’t really thought about that. “I wasn’t, but now that you said it, maybe.” You had mostly been worried that if you broke up after sleeping together, he’d be that much harder to get over because you knew that you’d be more attached to him then than you already were. But maybe that worry – that he would leave because you were holding back – had been there all along.

“I’m not saying he would do that,” Jen hurried to add. “I’ve seen how he acts around you, and how he looks at you. I really think he’s one of the good ones. But with your past experiences, I can see why you’d be worried. Has he ever been pushy about it?”

“No, never. When I told him that I thought we were moving too fast, he said he’d follow my pace. Only now, we’ve just kind of stalled out.”

“I guess he’s waiting for you to do something then. Like give him a signal that you want more.”

That could be it too. “I don’t really know how,” you admitted. “I have one night’s experience to draw from, and that was years ago.”

“That wasn’t an experience, y/n, that was a sexual travesty.”

You couldn’t argue with that. “He’s experienced though. I’m sure he knows how to make it good for me, but I don’t know how to do that for him. What if I’m bad in bed?”

“First of all, you have no idea how you are in bed because you’re practically still a virgin. Second, men are easier to please when it comes to sex anyway. Jungkook likes you. It’s easy to tell that he has real feelings for you, so I think there’s zero chance that he wouldn’t like sex with you. You really need to talk to him about it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up just thinking about trying to talk to him about this. “I know. I’m just embarrassed.”

Jen rolled her eyes. “If you can’t talk about it, you probably shouldn’t be doing it. Or I guess you could take the easier route and wear something that does the seduction for you. Like this.” She held up a deep red halter neck dress. The low neckline and back ensured maximum skin exposure. Jen was tall and had long, dark hair so on her, it probably looked fabulous.

Eyeing the dress with skepticism, you said, “That dress is your style, not mine. I’ve never worn anything like that before.” Your style could best be described as casual. On date night, you managed flirty casual, and Jungkook didn’t seem to have any complaints. This dress was on a whole other level, though.

“We can make it your style. I’ll make sure it’s not too revealing if that’s what you’re worried about.” When you still hesitated, Jen added, “Come on, Jungkook will forget how to talk when he sees you in this. I guarantee that you won’t have any trouble getting him into bed if that’s what you decide you want.”

The idea of surprising Jungkook with something like this was appealing. Maybe shaking up your image for one night would give you the confidence to talk to him about your relationship.

_____________________________________

Jungkook stifled a yawn as he entered Carmen’s. It had been an exceptionally long day, and he wished this was a regular Saturday night like the ones he usually spent with his girlfriend, y/n. He liked being in your apartment because your sofa was comfortable, you had an old record player and some killer albums that you’d collected since middle school, and your essential oil candles made everything smell nice.

Jimin had been teasing him for a couple of months now, calling him domesticated. He supposed he was because before meeting you, he rarely spent a Saturday night in. If someone had told him then that he’d soon trade beers at his favorite bar for candles and snuggling on the sofa, he would have laughed.

And since Jimin rarely got him out on a weekend anymore, and Jen had equal complaints about you, he doubted either of you would get away with ducking out early.

“Are they upstairs or downstairs?” Jimin asked.

“Downstairs, I think,” he replied.

He let Jimin lead the way. It was crowded downstairs, and he first searched the booths and bar area, expecting to find you chatting with friends. You always said dancing in public made you feel awkward unless you were drunk, and since your alcohol tolerance was low, you usually didn’t drink much.

“I see Jen on the dance floor,” Jimin said. “Did you find her?”

“No.” Jungkook scanned the dance floor, briefly pausing on a petite girl wearing a red dress before looking back at the booths. “Maybe she’s in the bathroom.” He pulled out his phone to call you.

“Wait, is that y/n?” Jimin suddenly asked.

Jungkook glanced up from his phone. “Where?”

“That girl in the red dress.”

He looked back at the dance floor for the girl in red, ready to deny it. Except she’d turned around now, and Jimin was right. Holy shit.

“Damn. I know I’ve been giving you a hard time lately, calling you domesticated. I’ll shut up now because if I knew I was taking her home later, I’d be domesticated too.”

Jungkook glared at Jimin. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

Jimin’s expression was sheepish. “Sorry, man. I’m going to hell for impure thoughts, but so are half the guys hanging around her. You might want to worry more about them.”

Jungkook was already on the move as he’d noticed the same thing. Shouldering past two guys trying to dance up behind you, he gave them a look that ensured they backed off. Your back was facing him, and he swallowed hard as his eyes drifted down from your shoulders. The dress draped in the small of your back, leaving a bare expanse of skin, and his fingers literally itched to touch you.

He gave in to the urge, sliding his hand along your waist lightly to get your attention. You turned your head, brows furrowed as you flinched away from the unexpected touch. But when you saw it was him, you smiled and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“You’re here,” you said, tilting your head back to look at him. “I’ve been waiting forever.”

He smiled at your uncharacteristically dramatic tone. “Sorry. I forgot my bag, so I had to run home to change. Are you having fun?” You were pressed close against him on the crowded dance floor, and he was enjoying the feeling of your small body against his. He let his hands settle on your hips, thumbs rubbing light circles. You shivered in response. “Are you cold?”

“No. That just feels good,” you said with a sigh. You toyed with the top button of his long-sleeved white Henley.

He wasn’t used to you being that direct about what you liked. And when your hands suddenly wandered under his leather jacket and ran up his back, he suppressed a shiver of his own. “I think you’re drunk, baby.” He pulled you closer, trying to ignore the teasing glimpse of cleavage revealed by your dress. Your hair drifted around your pale shoulders in loose waves, and all he could think about was running his fingers through it as he kissed you.

“Maybe a little bit,” you admitted, scrunching your nose as you smiled up at him. “The cocktails are really good here.”

God, you were adorable. He’d never met another girl that he wanted to simultaneously fuck senseless but also protect and cuddle, though the former urge was winning out tonight. He’d never imagined you wearing a dress like this, and he knew it would be fueling his fantasies for quite some time. It had to be Jen’s influence, though he certainly wasn’t complaining.

As if reading his thoughts, Jen suddenly sidled past him on her way to the bar. “You’re welcome.”

For the next three hours, you divided your time between the dance floor and the bar, and Jungkook was content to follow behind you. You danced slowly together regardless of the beat, and he finally allowed his hands to stroke your bare back. You kept tilting your head back, inviting his kisses, and he was happy to indulge you. He was so turned on he could hardly think straight, but he knew he needed to keep a tight rein on the situation. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of that night a few weeks before when you had all but run from his apartment.

When you got a bit unsteady on your feet, Jungkook ordered water and fries at the bar before leading you to the booth where Jimin, Jen and a couple of other friends were talking. He could tell you were starting to fade as you finished the water and food. When you yawned and leaned against him, he kissed the top of your head. “I think it’s time we got you home.”

You hummed in agreement. Jen tossed him your jacket from the corner of the booth, and he helped you put it on. The cab ride back home was long enough for you to fall asleep in his arms. He savored every minute, stroking your hair gently, lulled by the sound of your breathing and glad that you had shaken off the pensive mood you’d been in the night before.

Jungkook was observant enough to realize that something was worrying you lately. While it bothered him that you wouldn’t tell him what you were thinking about, he worried that the relationship was still too fragile for him to push when it was obvious that you didn’t want to talk about it. Still, it was becoming increasingly difficult to let it go because he was concerned that it had something to do with him.

He wondered if it was about sex. Ever since that night he’d intervened when your ex showed up drunk, he’d wondered about your relationship with him. Something in the past had made you nervous about physical intimacy, which he’d realized after you ran out of his apartment that night, and he’d been very careful not to do anything that might make you run again. More and more he wished he’d punched that asshole, feeling certain he was somehow to blame. He’d deserved that and more for the name calling alone.

When you arrived home, Jungkook paid the driver and helped you from the car. Upstairs, he unlocked your apartment, smiling when you kicked your heels off and the effort sent you stumbling sideways. He steadied you before removing your jacket and draping it on the arm of the sofa. You walked to your bedroom and he grabbed some water from the kitchen before following you.

“You don’t feel sick, do you?” he asked, placing the water on your nightstand.

You shook your head as you sat on the edge of the bed and reached out a hand to him. “No.”

He took your hand and sat next to you. “You should change before you go to sleep, so you’ll be more comfortable.”

“You like the dress, right?” You nibbled your bottom lip as you peeked up at him through your lashes.

Understatement. “You look beautiful,” Jungkook said quietly, pushing your hair off your shoulder. His breath caught when you turned her cheek toward his palm and rubbed against him like a sleepy kitten.

“Then kiss me,” you whispered.

He hesitated, but you were already reaching for him. The kiss was like throwing a match on kindling. Then you scooted back to lie down and pulled him with you.

This was dangerous and he knew it, but he ignored the niggling little warning in his head because he’d been thinking about kissing you like this all night. He pressed against your soft curves but kept most of his weight off you as slow kisses turned more passionate. And when your hands grew bolder, running across his chest and back and tugging him closer, he gave in to the temptation, pulling you more fully beneath him.

When you parted your thighs, allowing his hips to settle between them, he dropped his head to your shoulder with a groan. Pressing kisses against your neck, he willed himself to calm down. “Baby, we should stop.”

You responded by pushing your hips up against him, and he bit back a curse. He was fully hard now and stopping was the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew it was the right thing. Jungkook braced his weight on his forearms and took a breath as he stared down at you.

“But I want you to stay,” you said, threading your fingers in his hair. Your eyes seemed much darker in the dim light of the bedroom. Your small hands drifted down to his shoulders, kneading, and then moved further down to toy with the hem of his shirt.

Jungkook closed his eyes and took another deep breath, the light fragrance of your perfume doing nothing to help him regain control. As much as he wanted you – had wanted you from the first night he kissed you - he didn’t want your first time together to be after a night of drinking. If there was even the slightest chance that you might regret it later, it wasn’t worth it.

He gave in one last time, kissing the spot beneath your ear that always made you shiver. He darted his tongue out to taste you and then captured your lips for one more long, slow kiss. “Not tonight.”

You didn’t argue anymore, allowing him to pull away. You were quiet as you got up and took some clothes from the dresser before going to the bathroom to change. When you returned, your face was clean, and you wore the usual pajama pants and t-shirt you preferred to sleep in. You didn’t say anything as you slipped past him to crawl back into bed and pull the covers up.

“You’re sure you feel okay?” he asked.

You nodded, your eyes already closed. “I’m just tired.”

He brushed his hand over your hair and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’ll lock up on my way out. I’ll give you the key back tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook hesitated for a moment. Something seemed off somehow. Awkward, maybe. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He turned off the light and let himself out, making sure to lock the door behind him.

#college au #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x you

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soranihimawari · 4 years ago

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This story takes place in one night at Club Rosa. A typical hotspot for the collegiate aged students who are looking to escape for a few hours. It was also the night where two groups of friends have at least one member of their party who needs to remember the magic of meeting someone new and energy the electric beats of the nightlife gives them.

Strangers to Lovers (I suppose this was where I was going with this)

Note: this is totally unedited and while this has been sitting in my drafts box for a while, I thought I might as well publish it...

TW: Mentions of social drinking (at a club) and hints at a bad breakup in readers' not too distant past.

"You should really be looking for what else this city has to offer Iwazumi," the jovial tone of his best friend on the other side of the world had mentioned in their bi-monthly phone call. This was a two months prior to Oikawa coming to visit California during the off season.

Oikawa had taken it upon himself to have Iwazumi agree tonight would be the night where magic does happen if only their friend would check out the scene around them.

[03:33 A.M.]

The nighttime fog clung to the surface of the streets lining your neighborhood. Tonight had been filled with familiar faces and worn out sneakers; it was the first official day of spring. With the change of the seasons it was an easy celebration to prepare for. Every living creature who had survived the harshness of the winter storms have since come back to life. You were no exception to this change seeing as the winter did leave a bitter taste in your mouth. You were no stranger to love nor it’s consequences leaving you to your own devices for coping with heartache. Sometimes you’d wander the cityscape alone with a brave mask on your face and clothes made of steel. Other times, your phone buzzed with excited (albiet unopened) invitations to a plethora of movie nights, friends night out (or in because of the weather), and coffee dates with those who have stuck by you since the start of university.

Tonight was different and you could feel it in your bones: tonight you blasted ‘Don’t Stop Me Now,’ by Queen as you changed into your street clothes preparing to hit a familiar hotspot. The clubs in the downtown ‘collegiate’ district had been staying open later to celebrate the upcoming graduating class. However, that was not the main reason why you were stepping foot out in one. Your friends had gathered enough patience and had made it their mission to make sure you can forget about what’s-his-face once your confidant reminds you how much you loved to dance salsa. Obviously you who have been on the path of self healing and rediscovery had led you to this moment: the blaring beats of the music comes from the speakers strung outside the patio deck of the Club Rosa; the lights of the dancehall swirl into a nuance neon red; and there you stand by the bar with a whiskey on the rocks dressed in a sunny yellow camisole and jeans that hugged your figure eloquently. You sip your drink while participating in the conversation here and there with your friend group before a good majority of them decide to hit the dance floor because “life is not a spectator sport, so live a little.” And you promise them you will once you’re glass is empty.

A few feet away, unbeknownst to you, another fixture of the nightlife atmosphere had been dragged out of his sullen moments in his apartment by his own group of friends. They had made these plans ages ago especially when they had heard their old friend who went abroad to study has a few more months before being matched with a graduate school with one of the best athletic training programs in the western coast. At the bar, they all stood asking their friend what it was like being so far from home and if he learned anything new from being surrounded in a paradise filled with gorgeous men and women. Whether it was sex tips or the latest flavor of the week, their friend did not seem to crack under the pressure, besides, it was best to keep them guessing regardless.

That was roughly twenty minutes ago and currently, you had finished off the last bit of your drink and closed out your share of the tab leaving a cash tip underneath the empty glass. You don’t know when or why it happened, but apparently with a little encouragement from what you assumed to be the leader of the model-esc young men, your vision is now blocked by someone wearing a white shirt with sun-kissed skin the shade of caramel and you suddenly find yourself a bit confused by this development. Your eyes slowly glance upward and you can tell he was also embarrassed by this predicament. For whatever reason, you decide to take a small leap of faith taking one of his hands in yours and drag him to the dance floor. It is there you teach him some of the basics of the dance you loved the most. You are quick to dispel any further rumors as your friends collectively nod in agreement and so you begin the first lesson. Dance is a language all on its own and with the heat rising in both the club and on your faces, you lead him through the first of many shared dances that night. Salsa comes first, loud and bombastic; the rhythm is foreign to him, but you are successful in at least teaching him that closeness is much needed like oxygen to a flame. He lets you go for a moment and you spin back into his arms like it’s second nature. Like you fit together and you see a ghost of a smirk cross his rather serious demeanor. Next comes an easier rhythm drummed out by the percussion of the band, it is slow and steady as a beating heart. This is bachata and before either of you realize it, he sees in you the spark that would drive him wild. The fluorescent lights of Club Rosa twinkle around your frame, waking up a relic feeling of flight for your partner that evening. He remembers every detail of your hands in his and how he wished the music doesn’t end there; he notices the sneakers you wear adorned with their own stories of late nights, dance battles, summer festivals, etc. Once more, when the music changes to the samba, you find yourself being turned by his hand with your back pressed against his chest. He has a firm grip on your waist with one hand and with the other, his fingers trace over your arm before he spins you around with an approving hum. Your eyes are met with his own filled with a joint emotion of amusement and determination. Granted, neither of you wanted to stop dancing because for once, you both think you are meant to be in this moment of time. There is a fire building and you find it in yourself to the back door that leads outside of the club. Your eyes signal to him the idea and thus he lets you lead him again.

It doesn’t take very long thereafter for both of your friend groups to notice how their parties were down by one person each.

Neon signs are blurred throughout the rest of the night as you run with this practical stranger who seemed so out of place even with his friends as his heart tried to stop beating so erratically around you. You who was an ethereal being in the club; you with the charming eyes and alluring voice; you with the means to drink and dance like a wild child; you who held his hand every step of the way back to your home. Time was on your side and his the moment you closed your door behind him: the city had been littered by the echoes of your shared affinity of making the ground freestyle along with you. Hazy street lamps lit the pathways in your hearts to wind into one at 2:17 in the morning. Your arms were still looped around his neck while the kitchen radio played an old lovers’ tune that he had heard many times of the night (more so on the evenings spent in the confines of his room where he studied). It was a lullaby that intrigued him by the way you breathe around him, finally securing a hold on his heart and mind.

An hour later, you find yourself in your bath, combing through your dampened hair with your fingers before wrapping a towel around your figure. Late or early as it was, you couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity with the stranger laying in your bed. His ever present spiked hair poking through the lime green duvet, steady breathing matching the rise and fall of his chest. The shirt he wore clung to him gently and while you make your way to throw some pajamas on, you pause at the jacket draped across the back of your desk chair. His personal effects were strewn across the night stand by your alarm clock. The sports jacket made of ivory lined with a light teal detail and the worn out emblem of his club along with its number made your lips curve into a small smile as you trace the stitches with your index finger. Fours never looked so appealing before, but now they do at 03:33 A.M. when you finally succumb to sleep with a peaceful expression on your face.

#sora scribbles #tw: social drinking and dancing #iwazumi x reader #iwazumi scenarios

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chicagocityfclanspromoblog · 4 years ago

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Simone Campbell → Fola Evans-Akingbola → Human

→ Basic Information

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthday: November 30

Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius

Religion: Agnostic

→ Her Personality (one to two paragraphs)

→ Her Personal Facts

Occupation: Teacher’s Assistant and Bartender at Anonymous while she works on her Masters

Scars: Burn marks from carrying hot plates of food on her arms.

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: The outdoors and Carole King

Two Dislikes: Abuse of the system and Rich kids

Two Fears: Failure and Spiders

Two Hobbies: Swimming and Camping

Three Positive Traits: Stalwart, Industrious, Intelligent

Three Negative Traits: Blunt, Obstinate, Unenthusiastic

→ Her Connections

Parent Names:

Rodney Campbell (Father): Rodney worked as a car salesman for 30 years until his company went under in the recession. They lost the business and he had to take up a warehouse job. He’s been a big driving source for her to get her education so she has something to fall back on. Rodney’s unending effort to provide for his family is where Simone gets a lot of her stubbornness and drive from. She isn’t letting anything knock her away from her dream.

Cassandra Campbell (Mother): Cassandra is an elementary school teacher and always pushed the importance of school for her children. She and Simone get along to an extent, but Cassandra thinks she’s pushed away her family and that Simone will regret missing big family moments to work when she’s older.

Sibling Names:

Alexandra Campbell (Sister): Alexandra got a full ride academic scholarship to Duke and is studying finance there. They often will get into arguments over money and how it should be used in society. Their arguments are now banned from dinner tables and anywhere other members of the family have to hear it. Despite this they do discuss school and what Alex’s plans are for after graduation.

Lamond Campbell (Brother): Lamond is a star football player and will hopefully go to school on that. He struggles with his grades at times, and Simone will walk him through problems while she is grading papers at night.

Children Names:

None

Romantic Connections:

Isaac Baker (Ex-Boyfriend): She met Isaac where she seems to meet everyone; Anonymous. He’s friends with both of her bosses, which should have been a red flag in itself. They got along well, he was funny and charming and good in bed, but she could not deal with the comments about her friends or his jealousy. He gives her a large clearance, but she doesn’t really feel that much ill will towards him.

Platonic Connections:

Eric Lasiter (Classmate): Simone actually feels the most comfortable with Eric in class. He doesn’t try to make much small talk and keeps everything focused on the discussion in class. She was surprised to see him studying with Ashley especially since it appears they know each other well.

Ashley Malone (Classmate): There is something about Ashley that she finds off putting. They often pick opposite sides when it comes to discussion which has led to heated conversations. She’s always been fine to her in class, but since they are both competitive and know they’re the top students in the class, Simone doesn’t see them being very close anytime.

Anya Grace (Classmate): Anya is her only normal classmate. She has no time for BS and is a hard worker. She can see that Anya cares about her degree and has to work just as hard as she does for it.

Austin Semler (Classmate): She’s not sure how she continues to be partnered with Austin. He’s still very much into the gossip and drama surrounding college life that she just is not into. It’s led to some awkward conversations and tense study sessions. She thinks a part of it is that he doesn’t appear to have a real job, while she’s working as many shifts as she can to pay for everything.

Tom Mills (Student): Tom has been coming to Simone for tutoring and extra help with his social work class. As a T.A. she’s been letting him stay after class to get his work done and avoid any 2 AM emails from the undergrad.

Duke Thornton (Boss): Duke was the person she initially interviewed with. He’s got a very good poker face, so she was surprised at the call back. Duke does most of the scheduling and is always flexible with hours when she needs to study or work later at the university.

Peter Knox (Boss): While Peter and Duke are both at Anonymous frequently, Peter is on the floor more often during the rush. He’s willing to serve and bartend, anything to make sure the restaurant runs smoothly.

Josie de la Rosa (Friend): They met at Anonymous and quickly discovered that they both enjoy being active. They’ve gone swimming and kickboxing together, and she’s hoping to have a free night to join Josie at a salsa dancing class.

Selene Andris (Coworker): Selene is her favorite bartender to work with that isn’t Duke or Peter. She has a good attitude and doesn’t get stressed at large orders. She also understands a lot of the struggles that Selene is going through as a returning student and they vent about it to one another.

Matthew William-Jones (Coworker): Matthew usually buses tables, but he’s been asking her to teach him how to carry multiple plates and take orders. During slow times she’ll have him help her carry out her food and practice.

Juliette Willott (Friend): Simone met Juliette at Anonymous during a shift. Initially she thought she may have been flirting with her, but as they talked it turned out she was just being friendly and they had a lot in common. Her hanging out with Juliette caused one of the biggest fights between her and Isaac and was a partial cause of their break up.

Marni Frazier (Friend): Simone met Marnie while doing field work for her masters. She was volunteering at the same clinic and they clicked. Interestingly enough, they didn’t realize they’d met at Anonymous before. Now they regularly hang out on and off shift.

Garrett Cleirigh (Coworker): Sometimes Simone shows up to her shift and Garrett’s behind the bar. He’s never actually on the schedule, and Peter and Duke just look resigned when they see him. He makes the drinks, however, so she hasn’t questioned it.

Hostile Connections:

Hanna Moore (Uncomfortable): She’s asked some weird questions about her bosses, and Simone steers clear from her. Simone’s worked enough jobs to know not to say anything that isn’t common knowledge to a customer.

Chris Shaw (Dislikes): It seems like Chris is constantly hitting on a new girl and constantly striking out. And then he wants to complain to her. She wishes the guy would get laid and leave her alone.

Pets:

None

→ History (paragraph(s) on background) → The Present

→ Available Gif Hunts (we do not own these)

Fola Evans-Akingbola (Simone Campbell) [1][2][3]

#fola evans akingbola #human rpg #oc rpg #city rpg #supernatural rpg

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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nobody knows where we might end up, chapter eleven (branjie) - holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr: plastiquetiaras) | word count: 4828

AN: Thank you so so much for the continued lovely response to this fic, reading reviews makes me the happiest ever. I appreciate it so much <3 thank you writ for betaing and being the best.

(then)

“Ready? One, two, th-”

“No, I can’t click it, it’s too scary! It feels too real!”

“You’re acting like we’re watching a horror movie, B.” Vanessa tries not to laugh at the sight of her girlfriend peeking through squinted eyes at her computer screen. “We gotta finish the registration for the MCAT. The time has come.”

“How are we here already?” Brooke groans, resting her cheek on her hand. “It feels like we’re still babies.”

“We’re halfway done second year. Not so baby anymore.” Vanessa double checks the credit card number she’s entered onto the MCAT registration website and tries not to wince at the price displayed on the screen. Why is an exam that they’re forced to write if they want to apply to medical school so damn expensive?

“You’re always my baby, though.” Brooke gives her a cheeky look, and Vanessa grins, tapping her leg against hers under the table.

“And you’re mine. Now c’mon, we gotta finish or all the spots for this date will be taken.”

Brooke lets out a sigh of relief and nervousness both when they get their respective confirmation emails for the MCAT. Vanessa’s mind is already spinning over summer plans, how they’re going to have to study even more than they already do in the months leading up to the exam.

But hey. It’ll be worth it if they both get into med school. Especially if they can do it a year early.

“D’you think we can do it?”

Brooke looks at her with an adorably furrowed brow. “Do what?”

“Third year entry.” Starting medical school a year early by entering after their third year of university rather than after they graduate in their fourth year, a practice permitted in medical schools across Ontario. It seems like a fever dream to Vanessa right now, a concept that feels so far away but so exciting that she doesn’t even want to think about it too much.

“Dunno, Ness. Barely anyone ever does.” Brooke bites her lip. “It sounds so difficult.”

“We’re smart, though. Both of us.” They weren’t at the top of their respective classes for nothing.

“So is every other student that’s planning on applying to med school for third year entry.”

Vanessa sticks her tongue out at Brooke. “Shush. Don’t stifle our dreams. We can beat them all. I could probably take some in hand-to-hand combat, too.”

Brooke snorts. “Last time I checked, the med school application process wasn’t actually a literal Hunger Games.”

Vanessa scoffs, opening up a medical school application forum that she’s begun to frequent recently. “Sure feels like it sometimes.”

Brooke looks at her screen and tuts. “You know looking at that’s gonna freak you out even more.”

Vanessa sighs. “I know, I can’t help it. I just wanna know everything and be on top of everything, you know? And just know that we’re both gonna get in, and to the same schools, too.”

Brooke reaches out a hand, grabs Vanessa’s and strokes the top of it with her thumb. “Hey, no matter what, we’ll figure it out, okay? And become badass doctors in the process.”

Vanessa squeezes back. “Imagine if we both get into med school here, and can stay in Toronto. Keep our apartment, do all of our clinical placements here too. Kill it together.”

Brooke smiles. “That’s all I want, Ness. Though we still gotta be ready for it to not happen. Cause we never know. It’s so hard to get in.”

“I know, I know.” Vanessa sighs. “I just want it so bad.”

“Me too, baby. I want it, too. I hope we get it.” Brooke stands up, comes to stand behind Vanessa and bends down so that she can wrap her arms around her. Vanessa covers Brooke’s hands with her own. “Which is why, starting tomorrow, we’re on full MCAT studying mode. I’m gonna make a schedule tonight.”

Vanessa sputters at Brooke’s declaration. “Already? Bitch, we have midterms coming up first next week!”

“Do you want to get into med school or not?”

Vanessa huffs. “Fine. I’m already tired, though, just so you know.”

Vanessa can feel Brooke’s laugh on her back, from the way Brooke is leaning against her. “Okay, Miss ‘I’m tired,’ come and help me with the tacos for dinner. I’m hungry.”

Vanessa grates cheese at their kitchen island while Brooke tends to the taco meat on the stove, and Vanessa is struck by just how domestic they’ve become. Making dinners together, studying, catching kisses here and there as they come and go from their respective classes and volunteering positions and work in the labs on campus. Their tiny one bedroom apartment feels like a mansion to Vanessa sometimes, because it holds everything she could ever want - Brooke, their pets, a sense of security. A feeling of home.

Vanessa doesn’t want to lose it, ever.

Apollo jumps up onto the counter, suddenly very interested in the tomatoes that she’s begun to chop. Vanessa sticks her hand out to keep him away from the knife, and can’t help her giggle when Apollo nuzzles against it instead.

“Lemme finish chopping and I’ll give you all the attention you want, kitty-kitty.” Vanessa picks him up and lowers him to the ground, away from the knife and chopped vegetables spread on the counter.

Brooke pulls the pan off of the stove, and spreads out the different toppings they’ll need for their tacos. Vanessa can’t help but let out a noise of delight.

“I’m fuckin’ hungry. I’m gonna eat at least, like, five.”

Brooke snorts. “Five?”

Vanessa nods as she begins to already fill up her first taco. “At least.”

“You’re approximately the size of a Polly Pocket, babe. Five?” Brooke grins at her and Vanessa sticks her tongue out.

“Not my fault you’re some sort of tall Amazonian goddess.”

Brooke comes around to Vanessa’s side of the kitchen island and puts her arms around her waist, pulling Vanessa in closer. Vanessa looks up at her and can’t help but rise on her tiptoes to kiss her, feeling the way Brooke smiles into it. Brooke breaks the kiss, bending down slightly to scoop Vanessa up underneath her thighs and it makes her yelp, wrap her arms around Brooke’s neck tighter. Brooke sits her down at the edge of the counter, and it makes them closer in height, more eye to eye.

This Brooke is Vanessa’s favourite version of Brooke - the one with sparkling eyes and a calm heart filled with so much love that it’s threatening to spill out. Brooke presses kisses all over her face that make Vanessa giggle, and she can’t help but think about how lucky she is.

It scares Vanessa sometimes, that she feels like she’s found her person when they’re both so young, still in university. They still have so much to go, so much to weather through before they’re even established in their careers at all. Sometimes, she feels like she’s preemptively losing Brooke, thinking about the future and the possibility that they may not be able to last.

But they will. They have to.

Brooke reaches around for Vanessa’s plate and grabs one of the tacos that she’s already made, making her protest immediately. “Hey!”

Brooke steps out of her grasp, giggles as she starts to eat Vanessa’s taco. “You snooze, you lose.”

Vanessa jumps off the counter. “Bitch, if your fine ass touches another one of these tacos after that one, I swear to-”

Brooke presses a kiss her lips, effectively making her trail off with a mmph, and snickers when Vanessa bats at her shoulder.

“Hmph. You taste like salsa.” Vanessa grabs another taco from the plate and starts munching on it herself.

“I’ll make you an extra taco once these are done, promise.” Brooke finishes the last bite of her taco with a flourish and Vanessa huffs.

“You better. Out here stealing my food and shit.” Vanessa huffs, though can’t help her grin.

Brooke makes everything so much more fun. The late study nights, the early classes, the television show marathons that they have on their couch every other weekend. She hopes that it will never, ever have to end.

Vanessa’s phone rings while they’re doing the dishes, Vanessa washing while Brooke dries. Vanessa runs over to her phone, letting out a delighted squeal when she realizes that it’s her mom on the other end of the line. She puts it on speaker so that they can keep cleaning up.

“Hi, Mami!”

“Hi to you too, mija.” Vanessa’s mom has a loud voice and it projects throughout their small apartment, making Vanessa grin.

“You at work?”

“Taking a fifteen minute break. Freaking Donna took so long on hers and made me cover her patients for thirty minutes so I chewed her out and she felt guilty about it, and that’s how your mama earned an extra little break for herself.” Vanessa can hear the smugness in her mother’s voice without even having to see her face.

“I’d expect nothing less.” Vanessa snickers as she looks over at Brooke, who seems to be attempting to hold back a laugh as well.

“Enough about Donna. How’s your week going? Are you eating well? Are you sleeping?”

“Week is good. Haven’t eaten a vegetable in weeks. Not sleeping a wink.” Vanessa grins as Brooke raises her eyebrow at her answer. Vanessa loves goading her mom for the sheer entertainment value that she provides when she’s riled up, not unlike Vanessa herself.

“You want to die of scurvy, mija? Is that what you want? Out here trying to become a doctor and not eating any vegetables?”

“Don’t worry, mami. Eating and sleeping well both.”

“You better be.” Vanessa can hear the sounds of the hospital on the other end of the line. Despite the fact that her mom is working the night shift, she still hears snippets of conversations and rhythmic beeps faintly echoing in the background. The hospital never sleeps, not even at night.

“How’s Brooke? Put her on the line.” Vanessa’s mom hasn’t met Brooke in person yet but has already taken a liking to her from their short phone conversations, something that makes Vanessa want to dance around with happiness.

“It’s on speaker. Hi, Mrs. Mateo.” Brooke’s voice is squeaky as it always is when she’s talking to Vanessa’s mom, intimidated and desperately wanting to make a good impression. Brooke’s nervous state wants to make Vanessa crack up every time, because what does Brooke even have to worry about? There isn’t anyone who doesn’t immediately love her upon talking to her.

“How are you doing, sweetie? Vanessa not bothering you too much?” Despite the crack directed at her, Vanessa softens at nickname. Her mom is loving, fiercely protective when she wants to be, and seems to have a sixth sense of when someone may need it.

Brooke’s cheeks are pink, and Vanessa can see from the smile that she’s struggling to hold back that she’s pleased. “Doing okay. Vanessa’s perfect, as usual. We registered for the MCAT today.”

“Nuts, the two of you. Writing the MCAT. I’m telling you, nursing school-”

“We ain’t gonna apply for nursing school, Mami!” Vanessa can’t help but interject, and Brooke snickers.

“You two just like the harder route, huh? At least you have each other to lean on. And Brooke?”

Brooke perks up. “Yeah?”

“Good luck on that organic chemistry midterm you said that you have coming up soon. You’ll do wonderful.”

Vanessa melts when she sees the smile that takes over Brooke’s face, the way her eyes are shining slightly. “Thank you, Mrs. Mateo. I appreciate it a lot.”

Vanessa’s mom hangs up after the two of them promise to sleep earlier and take care of themselves, and Brooke turns to Vanessa as they finish up the dishes.

“Your mom is the absolute sweetest.” It comes out as a sigh, and it makes Vanessa reach for Brooke’s hand and squeeze it.

“She loves you more than me, I swear. Once she meets you this summer in person she’s gonna lose her mind.”

Brooke looks at Vanessa with wide eyes. “Do you think she’ll still like me?”

“Of course she will, dolt.” Vanessa swats at her arm. “She’ll use the opportunity to give you a million hugs that she can’t transmit over the phone.”

“You’re so lucky. Your family is so lovely.” The longing in Brooke’s voice tugs at Vanessa’s heart.

Vanessa develops grudges too easily, but the one that she can feel building against Brooke’s family is valid, and is one that grows more and more as time goes on. Vanessa’s seen Brooke come back from visits to home with her shoulders slumped too many times, seen her try to avoid crying by biting her lip as her mom chews her out over the phone. She hates to see how much they’re capable of hurting her without even having to try. Vanessa tries, at those times, to make things better. Extra cuddles, more encouraging and soft words than usual. She’s not sure, however, if it’s a good enough substitute.

“They love you, babe.” Vanessa leans up to kiss Brooke’s cheek. “Well, my mom does. Julio’s too invested in his computer games to care about anything else.”

Brooke cracks a smile despite herself, leaning into Vanessa’s touch. “I’m excited to meet them both.”

“You say that now. Wait till she’s roasting you too. Won’t take long for it to happen.” Vanessa grins. “She’ll have plenty of opportunities to gently bully you this summer while we study for the MCAT.”

“Somehow, I’m really looking forward to it.”

It’ll be good for Brooke. Both of them, really. Vanessa knows it.

(now)

“Brooke, open the fucking door.” Vanessa’s fist raps on Brooke’s office door as she pleads. Vanessa ignores the fact that they’ve flipped positions, that she’s the one trying to get Brooke to open up. She’s going to keep knocking because they need to talk, and they can’t keep doing this anymore.

The door swings open while Vanessa’s fist is still raised in the air, ready to knock again. Brooke’s face is cold and hardened, the annoyance on her face visible and it almost makes Vanessa take a step back. Almost.

“Do you fucking mind?” Brooke hisses the words at her, nearly shutting the door in her face again but then Vanessa sticks her foot in, preventing her from closing it. Brooke’s hold on the doorway lessens for just a millisecond and Vanessa takes the opportunity to slip inside, ignoring Brooke’s protests.

“We need to talk.” So what if Vanessa sounds like she’s pleading? They need to talk, actually talk - not fuck their way through things, or avoid feelings because it’s not working out for her. It isn’t for Brooke either, from the dark circles underneath her eyes, the slump of her shoulders as if she’s being weighed down by too much for her to carry.

“We really don’t.” Brooke turns away from her, walks towards her desk. Vanessa follows on her heels, undeterred, because she’s not going to give in that easily.

“Yeah we do, B! Things are fucked and I don’t know about you, but I ain’t having a good time like this. We need to.”

Brooke turns around suddenly and Vanessa realizes that she’s right there, right in front of her and Vanessa has to look up to make eye contact. The sharp rise and fall of Brooke’s chest matches the hidden fire behind her eyes, a heat that rises in steam across her skin.

“You’re not having a good time, huh?” Brooke’s laugh has no humour laced through it, veering on the side of bitter. “That sucks for you. Really does. Sorry to hear that.”

Vanessa knows Brooke’s tendencies to lash out when she’s cornered, but it’s not going to stop her from provoking her further. “Bitch, you’re the one who went home with someone else last night.”

Brooke takes the bait, like Vanessa knew that she would. “Oh, so suddenly I’m not allowed to do so?”

“That’s not what I said-”

“You made yourself pretty clear the other day. That you were done with whatever this is. I got the message with the closed door in my face.” Vanessa can hear the hurt, the anger in Brooke’s voice. They’re subtle cues that wouldn’t be noticeable to the average person but Vanessa knows (used to know) Brooke well enough that they shine through, no matter how much Brooke wants to hide them from her.

Vanessa deflates, because how can she explain it without sounding stupid? “I thought you just wanted something physical, since that’s what we were doing, hell, I still don’t know if you do and I freaked out, I know, ‘kay?” She takes a deep breath, continues because once she starts she can’t stop and Brooke needs to know that she still cares. “Because I realized that I still like you, really like you and miss you a fuck ton and couldn’t do it if that was just what you wanted.”

Brooke looks like she’s gotten the breath knocked out of her, as she takes a step backwards but hits the back of her legs on the desk. “Are you kidding me?”

“And I get it if you don’t feel the same-”

“You can’t just say that.” Brooke’s voice trembles in a way that Vanessa hasn’t heard in years and it makes Vanessa wince. Maybe her delivery hadn’t been the best, but she’s not good at talking and feelings and it’s hard. “You can’t just cut me out then waltz in here and say those things after leaving me to pick up the pieces.”

Vanessa doesn’t say anything to stop Brooke as she continues, because a part of her needs to hear where this is going, even if it’s going to leave her a mess. It��s like she’s become a sucker for punishment, needing to see it through to satisfy some sick need in her brain for catharsis.

“You always do this. You just come and go whenever you want, and I can’t do it. I can’t do it anymore. That’s not me. It wasn’t me back then, either.”

Vanessa can’t stop herself from interjecting, cutting off Brooke’s story because she’s saying it all wrong. “That wasn’t the same thing and you know it.” It wasn’t. That was different. The way they broke up was not like…this.

“Why not? You play by your rules now and you did then too. You run when you’re in trouble and things get difficult, and I get it, I really do.” Brooke’s laugh is bitter, marred by a tinge of sadness that contrasts with the set of her jaw. “I wouldn’t stay either.”

The words twist at Vanessa’s heart, turning it around and making knots and she feels heavy, weighed down, as if they’re anchors in her soul.

“Fuck off. That’s not true. I don’t run, I didn’t then either.” Vanessa can’t help her voice from raising because it’s not true, and Brooke’s being unfair because she’s the one that slept with someone else and didn’t even say anything about the voicemail and-

“I found out from Silky when you left back then, you know that?” Brooke’s voice breaks as she cuts off Vanessa’s train of thoughts, and it makes her freeze. Brooke wipes the tear threatening to leak from her eye as if it’s personally wronged her, and Vanessa wonders if it’s possible to have her heart torn without anyone actually touching it. “Why the apartment was half empty and Riley was gone and you were gone as if it all had meant nothing.”

No, no, no, Vanessa doesn’t want to talk about this, they can’t talk about this and she has to fight every cell in her body that is telling her to leave. “It wasn’t nothing-”

“I’m not doing it again. I get that you want to play by what works for you, but I can’t.” Brooke draws in a ragged breath, avoiding her eyes. She picks up her clipboard, her notes scattered around her desk. “I have to go.”

“Brooke-”

“Please let me go.” Brooke doesn’t wait for an answer, pushing past her and leaving the door swinging as she exits.

Vanessa’s frozen in Brooke’s office, the ticking of the minute hand of the clock on the wall coinciding with the way that her heart shatters just a tiny bit more with every passing second.

She’s fucked up.

“Office hours ended half an hour ago, come back tomorrow.” Silky’s voice floats through the English department office corridor as Vanessa knocks on her door. Getting through the workday felt impossible, like she was ricocheting off the walls of the hospital and no amount of work could calm her down.

“Silk, it’s me.” Vanessa can’t help the panicked edge in her voice as she peeks around Silky’s office door, her friend surrounded by stacks of papers and her glasses slightly askew.

“Vanj! You’re early!” Silky holds up the paper that she’s reading through. “Look at this. This kid spelled ‘allegory’ as ‘Gregory’. Who does that?”

Despite the nervous energy that’s lighting up her insides, Vanessa can’t help but snort. “Honestly, that was me back in uni. Dumb as hell in English.”

Silky waves her off. “You’re lucky that I was your roommate, bitch. Fixing all your stupid ass typos. You’re welcome.”

Vanessa takes the opportunity to collapse into the chair in front of Silky’s desk, grabbing the nameplate that says Dr. Ganache and turning it over and over in her hands. “Silk. Dear Silk. I have a problem. Big problem. Big, big, big, problem.”

“What, that you’re working with Brooke?”

“What? No, not that. Wait, how do you know that?”

“Bitch, you wouldn’t tell me which hospital you got hired at when you first moved back here and you always change the subject when I bring her up. Who else?”

Vanessa sputters. “Okay, well. Maybe true.”

“Also because Miss Brooke and I are still pals and have a longstanding monthly coffee date and you bet she was bitching about you.” Silky looks smug, too smug, by the turn of conversation.

Vanessa sits up in her chair. “She was? Rude.”

Silky points a finger at her. “Aha! So it is about her.”

Vanessa shifts. “Maybe. I have a problem. A big problem.”

“More than working with your ex?”

“Kinda?” Vanessa bites her lip, because if it’s anyone’s advice she needs it’s Silky’s, but she also wishes she could just push it away and not talk about it.

Silky sighs, taking off her glasses and laying them gently on her desk. “Okay, talk. Dr. Ganache is here to listen.”

“You ain’t that kind of doctor, Silk.”

Silky is unperturbed. “You want advice or not?”

Silky’s eyebrows get closer and closer to her hairline the more Vanessa goes on, recapping the past few months working at the hospital with Brooke. Vanessa’s certain that she sees her rubbing her temples at one point, but is too distracted by the memory of Brooke’s face when she had walked away to comment on it.

“Vanj. You a dumbass bitch.”

“I know, Silk.”

“Real fucking stupid.”

“I’m aware.”

“Whole ass idiot.”

“Are you just gonna sit there and insult me?” Vanessa grumbles and folds her arms because Silky is not helping her at all.

Silky leans forward in her seat. “Let me get this straight. Y’all started fucking.”

“Mhm.”

“Then you went all runaway on her.”

Vanessa winces. “Mhm.”

“Then you drunk dialled her ass.”

“Maybe?” Now that Silky recaps it, everything really is a mess. She’s a mess.

“No wonder she’s pissed at your idiot ass. Did I not raise you well?” Silky rubs her temples, looking exasperated.

“You’re not my mom, Silky.”

Silky scoffs. “Evidently not, with these stupid ass decisions.”

“Ugh.” Vanessa groans, dropping her head down onto Silky’s desk. “What do I do?”

“She’s gonna run like a startled deer or some shit if you bother her too much now. You gotta be careful.”

“How?” She doesn’t know how to, she’s as subtle as a bull in a china shop and doesn’t know how to watch her actions. Usually she’s unapologetic about it, not bothering to care but now she’s knocked too many things over and doesn’t know how to pick up the pieces.

“Give her time. She’s probably hurting. If you still feel all lovesick after a few days, then try again. But let her be for now.”

“I’m not lovesick.” Vanessa huffs, because she’s not. But how can she let Brooke be? How can she hold back from trying to talk to her, fix things?

“Potato, pot-ah-to.” Silky waves her hands, turning back to the papers on her desk. “Let me finish this last one, then we can eat and you can tell me all about how hung up you are over her.”

Vanessa lets the days pass one by one, biting her lip and wringing her hands and fiddling with the hem of her scrub shirt because she doesn’t know what else to do.

Nina calls a meeting for all of the surgical departments first thing on a Wednesday morning, and the only reason that Vanessa gets there early is because she may have possibly woken up at five a.m., unable to stay in bed. Maybe she hasn’t been sleeping well at all in the last few days. She tries not to think about it.

The conference room is empty when she opens the door, as are the chairs that surround the large table in the center of the room. Vanessa claims a spot towards the back, saving seats beside her for the other cardiothoracic surgeons. It’s the first time that she’s beaten anyone to a meeting, and she can’t help the smug sip that she takes of her coffee as she waits for the rest of the staff to arrive.

Vanessa’s ready to let out a wisecrack as soon as the door opens next, expecting Asia and Kameron because they’re disgustingly early for nearly everything. Vanessa still hasn’t forgotten the time that Kameron showed up to her apartment at seven thirty p.m. instead of the specified eight for a jaunt to Ralph’s, interrupting Vanessa’s getting ready routine and nearly causing her to flash the poor woman while just in her towel. The two had agreed to never speak of it again.

Except this time, it’s not Kameron or Asia who walk in the door next. The blonde hair, the lab coat, the navy blue scrubs, the large coffee in hand? Vanessa can’t help the way that her breath hitches at the sight of Brooke, and how has to hold herself back from saying anything. The circles underneath Brooke’s eyes are beginning to deepen and her movements looking more weary, more worn down. Vanessa ignores the gnawing feeling in her stomach that repeats to her over and over again that it’s her fault.

Vanessa hadn’t even thought about the fact that what’s happening now mirrors what had happened to the two of them back then. The way things ended. Not that she even stuck around long enough back then to see Brooke’s reactions. Now, years and years later in the hospital, she sees it. Sees how the armour that Brooke’s built up over time is starting to gain chips in it, cracking underneath the pressure that she’s using to hold herself up.

It’s what Vanessa’s good at doing, apparently. Breaking the two of them down over and over again, leaving nothing but misunderstandings and broken hearts that don’t seem like they’re ever going to mend.

Vanessa catches the pause in Brooke’s step once she spots her, the way that Brooke’s eyes flit towards all other corners of the room and away from her, how she bites her lip as she sits down. Brooke opens her notebook and buries her face in it as if she’s reading the most riveting of text to ever exist.

Vanessa leans forward in her seat, elbows resting against the table because the position makes her closer to Brooke, even if it’s just by mere inches. She wants to say something, anything but she doesn’t know what will make it better. What can even fix them?

Are they even worth fixing?

She opens her mouth to make a crack about the weather because the silence feels suffocating, imposing on her from all sides and all she needs is for Brooke to look up at her right now. But the door opens once more, Kameron and Asia spilling in followed by the ortho team, and some members of Brooke’s neuro team.

Vanessa can’t say anything. Not with everyone else there, not knowing about anything between them or the boulders worth of baggage that they’ve placed on each other’s backs.

It doesn’t stop her from hoping, wanting, waiting. Wishing for more chances to fix things. Vanessa doesn’t know what she’s going to do, or how she’s going to do it either. She just hopes that Brooke will be open to it, willing to crack again once she does.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #hospital au #lesbian au #holtzmanns #nobody knows where we might end up

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takerfoxx · 6 years ago

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RD Walpurgis Nights 7: Part 1

It is time, my dudes.

There was something of an odd symmetry in this.

Just how it was when they had first met, Ophelia was the one to find Homulilly after she had run off. It wasn’t as easy this time. For one, the crowded festival grounds were much harder to navigate than the woods had been, and she didn’t have Cheese around this time to use as a homing pigeon.

Still, find her she did. Homulilly was sitting by herself on the edge of a low wall, a bit away from the festivities. Her legs were drawn up, arms wrapped around her shins and face buried in her knees. Her spider-lily had clamped up into a tight bud.

Ophelia watched her for a bit. Then with a sigh she walked over and sat down next to her. Homulilly turned her head just enough to see who it was, grimaced, and hid her face again.

Ophelia raised an eyebrow. Then she reached into her blazer pocket and pulled out a chocolate-covered caramel crunch bar and held it out to the younger girl.

For a bit it didn’t seem that Homulilly had even noticed the gesture. But then, with her face still hidden, she tentatively reached up, took the candy bar, unwrapped it, and brought it into her makeshift shelter. From inside came the sound of munching.

Finally the flower on Homulilly’s head uncurled its petal a bit, and the girl soon followed, straightening up enough to expose her face, though she remained hunched over, her candy bar held tightly with both hands. Her eyes were wet and blotchy, and there were tear streaks running down her pale face.

Ophelia waited until Homulilly had finished the last of it before remarking, “Well. That was…unexpected.”

Homulilly swallowed hard. She sniffed and wiped her nose with her jacket sleeve.

“I’m guessing that things haven’t been okay for you guys lately, and that whole thing’s been building for a while.”

The empty candy bar wrapper crinkled as Homulilly hugged her arms to her chest. “I screwed up,” she said, her voice breaking.

Ophelia nodded. “You wanna talk about it?”

There a long moment of hesitation, then Homulilly nodded.

“Okay,” Ophelia said. “How about you start from the beginning?”

…

Five days ago…

Homulilly had already sort of looked like a zombie already, with her pale complexion and skeletal hands, arms, back, and shoulders. But now, as she gazed into her own reflection in the mirror over the dresser, it struck her just how truly dead she looked. Her eyes were empty, completely devoid of emotion, a perfect representation for how hollow she felt inside.

Then she looked down in dismay at the open book before her, the reason for why she felt so dead. On it was a bewildering collection of numbers, letters, and mathematical symbols, all arranged in a manner that failed to make any sense, no matter how many times she read and reread the instructions.

Math. Why was it always math? Why was she even having to learn math? She was dead! Death ought to have liberated her from math! But noooooo, here she was in the stinking afterlife, and they were still making her learn math. It wasn’t fair!

She again looked over the directions and tried to tackle the first set of problems. But before too long it turned into yet another muddy disaster of a mess that she had to erase before slumping her entire upper body over the desk. Stupid math.

And not just any math either! They were making her learn algebra! Why were there letters?! Letters didn’t belong in math!

Sighing, Homulilly straightened up and consulted her notes. However, most of it was just doodles she had idly sketched while being bored in class: a trio of flying kittens, two skeletons salsa dancing, and a fleet of alien invaders attacking Freehaven. It wasn’t any particular species native to the afterlife, just the standard flying saucer variety. Now that she looked at her scene of war and devastation, she found herself admiring the amount of detail she had put into the burning buildings and the shading on the flying saucers. It was like something out of a comic book!

She had been really bored in class that day.

Not for the first time, Homulilly wished that Gretchen was there. Gretchen honestly wasn’t much better than she was, but working together somehow made it easier to work out the stubborn formulas, as if their linked energy compelled them to find solutions. Unfortunately, Gretchen was now part of the planning committee for the FIB high-school contribution for the upcoming Cultural Exchange Festival, which was keeping her late.

Every night.

For the last week or so.

Go ahead, Gretchen, Homulilly thought bitterly. I’ll be fine! What? No, I won’t join. You know me, I don’t do well with people I don’t know. It’s only for a few days, I’ll be fine!

Well, she wasn’t fine. She hadn’t been fine with it then and she wasn’t fine with it now. But she had thought she could deal. After all, it wasn’t like they were always together. They had separate classes and everything! And she didn’t want to come off as clingy. Gretchen needed to have her own life, and who was Homulilly to tell her no?

Homulilly slumped back in her chair with a sigh. She should have joined too. Sure, she absolutely had no interest in the committee whatsoever, but it meant not being apart from Gretchen, and it was fun to help her girlfriend out with stuff she was interested in, even if Homulilly herself wasn’t interested in it as well. And okay, so it would have meant less time for homework, but it wasn’t like she was making good use of the time she had now!

Oh well, at least Gretchen would be home soon. It was about a quarter past eight, and they usually wrapped things up around nine. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too tired.

And then her phone rang.

Homulilly jerked in surprise, and then stared at it. Who in the world would be calling at this hour? The FIB staff usually just used the direct intercom, or just sent someone to knock on their door.

For the briefest of seconds she thought that maybe it might be Gretchen, but no, it wasn’t her ringtone. Homulilly walked over to where her phone was sitting on the nightstand and picked it up.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t Gretchen’s number, but Charlotte’s, and it was requesting a video call. That was weird. Not that Homulilly was displeased to hear from one of their older friends, but wasn’t it kind of late?

She tapped the accept button. A hexagonal silver screen materialized in the air, displaying the pink-haired witch’s face.

Charlotte seemed very pleased about something, if the big grin was any indication. “Homulilly! Hey, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Homulilly shook her head. “No, just doing homework. Is something wrong?”

“Wrong? Oh no. No, definitely not.” Then Charlotte frowned. “Well, I mean, kind of?”

“Huh?”

“Okay! So, I’ve got good news, great news, and kind of sucky news. Which one do you want to hear first?”

“Um…” Homulilly scratched her head, just under the spider-lily’s roots. “The good news I guess?”

“Okay, you know those strawberry honeycakes Candeloro makes at her bakery?”

Though Homulilly didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, her mouth still started watering at the mere mention of those frosted delights. She had no idea how Candeloro did it, but those things were absolutely heavenly. “Of course I do!”

“Okay. So, guess who won the Freehaven Times Best Baked Treat award?”

Homulilly blinked. “That’s…that’s a thing?”

In response, Charlotte held up a newspaper. Sure enough, there was the award section, there was the winner, and there was a smiling picture of Candeloro at her bakery.

“Oh. Oh! Well, that’s great!”

“It gets better. Because my girl got herself an official invitation to the New Life Alliance Sweet Tooth Symposium in Orya’s Furnace!”

That sounded very important and prestigious, but Homulilly just ended up staring blankly again. She knew that Orya’s Furnace was a big jott city in the Alliance, but the rest…

“It’s a big convention for, you know, bakers, candy makers, chocolateers, that sort of thing,” Charlotte explained. “Getting an invitation means you’re making it to the big leagues, and can get you exposure, sponsors, more awards, a whole bunch!”

“Oh!” Now Homulilly got it. “Well, that’s wonderful! She really deserves it!”

“Darn tootin’! But that’s not the only thing.” Now Charlotte’s grin became more of a smug smirk. “You know that book that I’ve been writing?”

Homulilly actually did. Charlotte had sent her and Gretchen a digital copy, after all. It was very good, though admittedly there were some parts she enjoyed more than others, parts that had made her blush the first time she read them. Gretchen had felt much the same way, and it had led to a very memorable evening afterward.

“Um, of course!”

“Yeah, I see that blush,” Charlotte said wryly. “Well anyway, I’ve been fishing around for an agent, and wouldn’t you know it, I got a bite! Corbit Fausk no less!”

“Um…”

“She’s a jott literary agent. A really important one too. I honestly didn’t think I had a chance when I sent her the manuscript, but I figured, hey, why not give it a shot, right? But as it turns out, she loved it and she wants to meet with me!”

“Oh! Well, congratulations! I knew you could do it!” Then a thought occurred to her. “Oh, and that’s perfect! She’s a jott, right? So you can meet with her when you go to Orya’s Furnace for that…convention thing!”

At this, Charlotte’s face fell. “Oh, er, yeah. About that. See, that’s the bad news.”

Homulilly’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. “What happened?”

“See, if either of these things happened at any other time, it would be perfect. Both of our things would be in the same place, so we could go on a nice vacation.” Charlotte sighed. “Unfortunately, the universe is a salty jerk. Because as it so happens, Corbit Fausk isn’t going to be in Orya’s Furnace during the convention. She’s coming here, to Freehaven, for the Cultural Exchange Festival. And based on what I know about her, she isn’t one to reschedule. Either I meet with her while she’s here, or she takes it personally.”

Now Homulilly understood. “Oh.”

“Yeah, as it turns out, sometimes the whole together forever thing has an interruption here and there,” Charlotte sighed. “I mean, there’s no way we’d let either of these opportunities pass us by, and it’s only for a weekend, but…”

And that would be enough. Like Homulilly and Gretchen, Charlotte and Candeloro had been together since the day they had arrived, and on a whole Walpurgisnachts did not like being apart.

“Are you okay?” Homulilly asked.

“Sure. I mean, she hasn’t left yet, so it’s not like it’s happening now. But let’s just say I’m looking forward to next Monday.” Then Charlotte frowned and looked around, her holographic image searching what would be for her a holographic representation of Homulilly and Gretchen’s room. “Though speaking of which, where’s Gretch?”

Homulilly sighed. “Well, about that…”

She explained her current dilemma, with Gretchen’s new extracurricular activities and Homulilly being dumb enough not go along with them. Charlotte listened sympathetically.

“Ouch,” she said when Homulilly was done. “So you got kind of the same problem that I have.”

“Sort of,” Homulilly said. “I mean, it’s not like she’s gone gone, but…”

“You’re not used to it. I gotcha. Well, hang in there, kiddo. She’s be back before you know it.”

Homulilly looked at the clock, and her heart fell. It was only eight-thirty. “It feels like forever.”

“Yeah, it does. But hey, that just makes the time together feel so much sweeter. Anyways, I’m going to let you go. I mean, Candy’s leaving soon, so I want to make the most of the time we have left.”

“Oh, wait!” Homulilly said. “Before you go, I, uh, got this thing that I, er, really, really need help with…”

“Huh?”

Homulilly took a deep breath. Then she held up her textbook to the screen. “I really need help with my homework. I keep reading the instructions over and over again, but it never makes sense.” Then, after a beat, she added a pleading, “Please?”

Charlotte stared. Then she laughed. “Oh God, that takes me back, and not in a good way. Um, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I kind of suck at algebra. Always was more into biology and studying other cultures and-” Then she brightened. “Oh wait! Ophelia can help! I mean, she’s a freaking engineer, after all.” She turned and called to somewhere else in the house. “Hey, Ophelia! Come over here for a second, Homulilly needs your-” Then her eyes bulged in shock. “What the-What the hell are you wearing? You’re doing what? Well…Save it for later, okay? And Jesus, don’t just parade around the house like that. Christ.”

Homulilly stared mystified as Ophelia shouted something incomprehensible from somewhere off camera. A few minutes passed, and she appeared, dressed in a black tank-top and a pair of workout shorts. There was something…odd tucked under her arm.

“Oh, hey Homuhomie,” Ophelia said. “What’s up?”

Homulilly would have answered, but her attention was taken up by the object in question. It appeared to be an outfit, albeit not a very covering one. But what it lacked in material it made up for in an abundance of feathers and sparkly rhinestones.

“Um…”

“What? Oh, this? I promised Oktavia I’d use my duplicate trick to give her a full burlesque show. Gotta dress the part.”

“Jesus Christ,” Charlotte muttered from just off-screen.

“Hey, watch your language. If I can’t swear in front of the kids, then you can’t either. So, what’s up?”

Homulilly had no idea what a “burlesque” whatever was, but she could put together enough clues to know that she didn’t want to ask. So instead she hefted her textbook up. “Um…help?”

Ophelia’s scarlet eyebrows rose. Then she burst out laughing. “Aw jeez. Homework. You poor unfortunate soul. Yeah, okay, I can help with that. Let’s do this.”

It took some trial and error, but Ophelia was better at explaining things than Homulilly’s textbook, and finally Homulilly understood enough to work her way through the set of problems.

“Thank you,” she said in relief. “So much.”

“No sweat. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a fish in dire need of some TLC and TnA. Bye!”

Once again Homulilly didn’t know what any of that meant, but she knew enough not to ask questions. Sighing, she carefully put away her homework and books into her schoolbags.

Then her phone started playing Magic, the song she and Gretchen had had their first dance to.

Homulilly leapt for the phone. “Yes!” she said, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

“Hi, Lilly!” Gretchen said, as chipper as ever. “Sorry I’m late. The meeting went long, and I lost track of the time.”

Lost track of the time? How did that even happen? Every moment Homulilly was apart from Gretchen had her glancing at the clock every few seconds. “O-Oh, it’s fine,” Homulilly said. “I was just catching up on homework.”

“I didn’t make you worry, did I?”

“No!” Then realizing that her agitated tone was less than convincing, Homulilly took a deep breath and mentally dialed things down. “Er, of course not! I mean, you’re still in the FIB building, right? That’s like the safest place in the world!”

“Sorry about that. I should’ve sent you a message at least.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Um…how was the meeting?”

“Oh, it went great! The other girls are just so creative! Remember how last year we had that flamenco dance party?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, watching all that happen is just so interesting! Some of them have ideas that they’ve been working on for years and couldn’t use before, and everyone is just so supportive and encouraging. It’s great!”

“Oh, that’s…really nice! So, are you on your way back?

“Oh yeah, that’s why I’m calling now!”

Homulilly, who knew the tones in Gretchen’s voice well, felt her heart drop. “What is it?”

“We’re actually going out for hot chocolate first. Mitty has all these cool ideas for the dance, and I guess they do their best brainstorming at the coffee shop. So…I wanted to see if you wanted to come! You know, meet the girls, see how the whole thing work. I know you don’t really like strangers, but I think you’d enjoy it!”

Homulilly froze.

“Homulilly?”

Grimacing, Homulilly forced cheer into her voice. “Oh. Um. N-No, that’s fine! I’m good.”

There was a pause, and then Gretchen said, “Homulilly, are you all right?”

Oh, drat, drat, drat. Now she was making Gretchen worry. “Me? I’m fine! Really! Go and have fun. I’ll just see you when you get back.”

“Are you sure? Because I can come home now if you want.”

“No!” Homulilly said hastily. The last thing she wanted was for Gretchen not to do something she wanted to do just to make her feel better. “I’m fine! Promise.”

“Well…if you’re sure. I’ll bring you back a pastry!”

Homulilly’s fingers were agitatedly squeezing the flower on top of her head. “Sure! That sounds great!”

“Okay then! See you in a few! I love you.”

Homulilly sighed. “I love you too.” Which, to be honest, was the sincerest thing she had said that entire conversation.

Gretchen hung up. Homulilly stared at the blank face of the phone for several seconds.

Then she threw herself facefirst onto the bed and seized her head, her bony fingers crinkling her flower’s petals.

Oh, stupid, stupid, stupid. Could she have botched that any further? Now Gretchen was going to feel bad for not going back. She had been looking forward to a fun time, and Homulilly had spoiled it.

But what did Gretchen expect to happen by just dropping that on her? She knew that Homulilly didn’t like surprises or strangers! She should’ve known that Homulilly would’ve been uncomfortable with either choice! Maybe if Gretchen had just given her more of a head’s up then she would’ve been better prepared instead of just springing it on her at the last second!

But it wasn’t like it was really Gretchen’s fault. That sort of thing wasn’t really a big deal, and Homulilly knew that she was overreacting. She could deal with another evening by herself, that was fine. People did it all the time! And she really did need to learn to stop being so clingy and make everything about her!

But it wasn’t like she was asking for much. Just a little courtesy, that was all! Sure, she had weird issues with anxieties and all, but she was trying to deal with them. All she wanted was for people to take that into account. Gretchen of all people ought to know that!

But it wasn’t like her problems were anyone else’s problems but her own! It wasn’t like people had to always know how she was feeling and how she would react. Her issues were hers alone, and it wasn’t fair to demand everyone build their schedules around what did and did not make her uncomfortable.

She should have just gone to the stupid coffee shop. It wasn’t like she had to talk to the others! She could’ve just sat with Gretchen and talked to just her! It might have been fun! Instead, she was pouting alone in the apartment, beating herself up and thinking bad thoughts about the person she loved the most in the world.

But…but…

Homulilly decided to just go to bed.

Sometime later the door opened to their darkened apartment. Homulilly, who had been dozing with her back to the door, tensed up, but didn’t move.

There was a long pause, then she heard Gretchen sigh and the door closed. From there came the familiar tapping of Gretchen’s wire legs as she moved about the apartment. The bathroom door opened and closed. A moment later the shower turned on.

Homulilly buried her face in her hands.

The shower turned off, and soon Homulilly heard Gretchen exit the bathroom. The bony-armed girl remained as still as she could. Maybe if Gretchen thought that she was asleep they wouldn’t have to talk about it.

But of course Gretchen wasn’t fooled. She slid into bed right next to Homulilly, slipped her arms around her girlfriend’s waist, and whispered, “I’m sorry I freaked you out. I wasn’t thinking.”

Oh no. “Don’t be!” Homulilly said hastily as she turned around in Gretchen’s embrace. “It’s just, you know, I’m bad with surprises, so I panicked a little. Overreacted. It’s seriously fine!”

Gretchen’s dark pink eyes glowed faintly in the dark, letting Homulilly see her smile. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. It’s the field trip to the museum, so we’ll have lots of time to spend together.”

#walpurgis nights

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myshatteredme-blog · 6 years ago

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I’m a senior in college... and I’m having an identity crisis.

I know what you’re thinking. College seniors don’t have identity crises. We’re about to graduate. We’re supposed to have our lives together by knowing exactly what we want to do in the next five years with a career, significant other, and names of the next three currently non-existent children lined up in a crisply wrapped box with a shiny red bow. And yet, here I am, about to enter my senior year without a single clue what I want to do afterwards because what I thought I wanted turned out to be shattered cookie crumbs at the bottom of the Chips Ahoy box I'd hoped to consume as my daily nutritious breakfast. Hey, I’m a stressed college student and Chips Ahoy is delicious.

Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked.

When I applied to colleges during my senior year of high school, there was only one thing I wanted in my four year university: a good dance program. I started taking ballet lessons when I was five years old and continued to try different styles throughout elementary and middle school. Some years I did lyrical, or tap. Others I went back to the basics of ballet. But I never stopped or took a year off. I never even switched dance studios. I loved it way too much to ever put it behind me, and I still love it with the same amount of passion, if not more.

However, things got a little more complicated in high school. Ever since I was eight years old, I’d struggled with my body image. Around that time, my pediatrician informed my parents that I was “overweight” and needed to go on a strict diet. My mom, who trusted doctors, as people should be able to do, just wanted the best for me and therefore became obsessed with the food pyramid which was still widely accepted as healthy and legitimate. Her efforts kind of backfired though. I remember the strict restrictions she put on my food intake only made me want sugar and potato chips and candy more than ever. One time I snuck downstairs to our kitchen and snatched a bag of Lays from the top of the refrigerator where she thought I couldn’t reach them. My plan was to run upstairs and consume the whole bag, but unfortunately I was caught. Instead of taking them away from me, my mom decided to play the guilt card.

“What would Dr. (insert name here) say?” she said as she stood over me with her hands on her hips. Now, my mom is a short woman who has always had a difficult time saying no, especially to her kids. Luckily for her, I’ve always been a people pleaser so it didn’t matter much. Not this time though. I ignored her, ran upstairs, and ate the whole bag while watching Disney Channel on my parents’ TV. I was the poster child for couch potato, or at least that’s how I felt.

That memory ingrained itself in my brain for years.

If only I’d just lost weight then like I was supposed to, I wouldn’t be so fat and ugly now.

I lived in constant guilt and shame until I was 15 and decided to do something about it, thus marking the beginning of my six year battle with various eating disorders, anxiety disorders, and depression. It was also around that time I decided I wanted to be a professional dancer and joined my studio’s competitive team.

I could go into all the details about how difficult that time was, but I think you get the point and that’s not really what this story is about, even though it is a very important component. I will say that there is something incredibly disheartening and heartbreaking about the one thing in the entire world you want seemingly requiring a very specific body type and not being able to achieve it even through extreme, life threatening measures. Additionally, being constantly evaluated and having your body scrutinously examined in class everyday can very easily break you. It broke me.

I asked for help before coming to college, but I didn’t really start to get better until the end of my sophomore year, and I still struggle a lot today to the point where I often skip class simply because I can’t handle being seen in public. It’s a lot better though, and my mental and physical health have both improved immensely. Which I guess brings me to the present day and my ongoing identity crisis.

Part of me wonders if I only loved dance because my eating disorder made me addicted to exercise and I couldn’t imagine a career where I didn’t push my body way past its limits everyday. Another part of me knows that those thoughts are just my eating disorder (I call him? Her? It? Ed) trying to take away something that matters dearly to me. Ed is a jerk like that.

What I do know is that I am in love with dancing, but going to class everyday and facing my reflection in the mirror while being constantly judged by teachers and peers is one of the hardest and emotionally draining things I’ve ever done. I do it because I refuse to give in, or give up. I want to show the world, and myself, that any body is capable of being a talented dancer.

But I do wonder what the point is if I have way more difficult classes than joyful ones. It’s cliche to say, but life is way too goddamn short, and I’m not sure if I want to spend it doing something that doesn’t make me irrevocably happy, at least most of the time.

I actually had a counseling session with my therapist yesterday where I brought all this stuff up. I was a little reluctant to do so because saying it outloud made the doubts and possibility of change real, and I’m not a huge fan of change or decision making. Thank you, anxiety. It actually ended up being a really good conversation though. She said something that really resonated with me and that was that I didn’t have to quit dancing if I decided not to major in it. She told me that it seemed as if it wasn’t the dancing itself that was triggering to me, but the fact that grades and constant evaluation were taking the joy out of it. I thought about it for a while, and realized she was probably right. I’d stop saying “I get to go to dance class” and started saying “I have to go to dance class or I’ll get an F.” I started thinking “I have to be good at this so I can pay off my student loans” instead of “I hope I get to do big performances someday because it sounds really fun.”

For a long time I defined myself as a Dance and Creative Writing double major, and I was proud of that identity, but I think I’m coming to the realization that maybe I can still be a dancer without studying it in school and that’s okay. During the school year, I’m a Resident Adviser, and I tell my residents and friends all the time that almost everyone changes their major at some point at least once. I never thought that person would be me considering I had my whole life planned out before even arriving at college, but maybe I should start taking my own advice and accept that things change and people change and that’s okay.

I don’t plan on ever quitting dance, even when I’m 80 years old and can barely walk. In fact, I actually looked into different dance companies, studios, and programs in the area so that I could still take classes even if I stopped taking them with my university. The prospect actually made me really excited because the studios I looked into offered a variety of styles from hip-hop and tap, to salsa, swing, ballet, and contemporary. Something I’ve never liked about my university’s Dance Program is their lack of variety that branches off from contemporary and ballet, and I think I would actually be a lot happier taking classes in a plethora of styles.

A couple weeks ago, a friend confessed to me their struggle with bulimia because they knew I’d had an eating disorder and wanted a bit of advice for how to tell their parents. I’ve always enjoyed supporting other people and learning about their diverse experiences, especially when they connect with my own because I can help them feel less alone. It’s probably the main reason I love to read. I’ve also always defined myself as a good friend. I try to keep my phone volume on at night so my friends know they can reach me at any hour (despite the fact that it makes my roommates hate me a tiny bit) because I know that sometimes our darkest moments happen in the middle of the night when we are alone.

Helping my friend through the terrifying decision to ask her parents for help was incredibly fulfilling for me. I’d been going through a bit of a relapse with my eating disorder and talking to her reminded me of all the self-care tools I’d learned throughout my years. It sounds awful, but it also gave both of us a good laugh to be reminded that some of the things we think, while totally valid, are also sort of ridiculous. In addition to being a jerk, Ed is also ridiculous.

It got me thinking about what kinds of things make me happy. Reading makes me happy because it allows me to connect with others and learn about experiences different from my own. Writing makes me happy because I feel as if I can share my values and experiences in hopes that they support other people and let them know they aren’t alone. Dancing makes me happy because it grounds me to myself while expressing myself artistically and telling stories with music and movement. I enjoy spending time with nature and taking pictures to appreciate the little things in the world around us. I’m also very passionate about my work as a Resident Adviser because I know I make a difference in the lives of my residents.

Basically the biggest defining factor, the core memory at the center of my islands as they’d say on Inside Out, my absolute favorite movie of all time, is a fascination with the amazing miracle that is humanity, and how we can use stories to spread kindness and awareness into the world.

I’d always had a slight inclination toward psychology. I took a 101 class in high school and another in college. I really enjoyed both and wanted to take more classes in the subject, but wasn’t particularly motivated to go to grad school, which is unfortunately almost necessary if you want to do anything with psychology.

But now I’m starting to wonder if I’d missed my calling.

What if I’m a college senior and I missed my calling?

Ah, there’s the anxiety. We were getting a little too serious and insightful up in here.

But yeah so here I am so close to the finish line wondering if I need to start over. I still want to continue my studies in Creative Writing because it is something I am deeply passionate about. I also want to continue dancing, even if it’s not in a college program. I have this slight dream of maybe opening a body positive studio someday and encouraging dance as a practice for anyone, not just really thin ballerinas. So that’s definitely a possibility for my future. I already have enough credits to change my major to a minor without any repercussions so I’m looking into maybe doing that. I’m also looking into potentially adding a psychology minor to my academic studies.

Somewhat unrelated, but it’s important, I promise. I’m a huge fan of the vlogbrothers, a YouTube channel with John Green (the author) and Hank Green (the science geek and soon to be author). My favorite thing about their channel and their lives is that they do things that make them happy for a living. Hank is a science major of some kind or another but now he’s writing young adult fiction and singing songs about Harry Potter both on stage and on the internet. John started his education and career as a minister in hospitals, and now he writes books about teenagers and makes videos on YouTube about his garden (among many other hilarious and educational topics). I’ve always admired their ability to tackle new projects and pursue things that matter to them while also raising families of their own.

Basically what I’m getting at is, maybe I don’t know exactly where my life is headed but I think this change might be for the better in regards to my personal growth, mental health, and engagement in well-rounded studies that I’m passionate about. Maybe I’ll go to grad school. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll make it big on So You Think You Can Dance. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll become a bestselling author, or counselor, or mom. Maybe I’ll become all of those things or something entirely different. For now I’m content pursuing my options and trying to participate in the activities and studies that make me happy. (In addition to working with Academic Advising and Career Services so I don’t end up broke, homeless, and alone).

So yeah, I guess there’s me, or at least what I understand to be me.

For now.

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jae-bummer · 7 years ago

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My Idol 2: Part Four

My Idol From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

My Idol is a South Korean competitive reality dating game show. It currently airs on Wednesday nights on Jae-bummer’s blog. First broadcast in 2016, the show offers the opportunity for a lucky fan to go on seven blind dates with seven idols. The idol plans the date with the show throwing in specific missions to complete during the day. At the end of the initial dates, the show opens up an audience vote to decide what three idols will move on to the second date.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Johnny looked toward you, an expression of confusion mixed with hesitation on his handsome features. His hand hovered in midair as the camera men stuck a red envelope in his direction. He eyed it warily before looking back to you and wincing.

“I got this,” you grinned, taking the envelope instead. “Don’t let the missions scare you.”

“I have never been so ready to admit how afraid of a slip of paper I am,” he exhaled, crossing his arms. “I know girls are interested in a guy who isn’t afraid of anything, but I am not that guy.”

“I think I can look past it,” you chuckled, sliding your finger underneath the flap of the envelope. “Now maybe I should ask you...are you ready?”

“Not in the least,” he nodded. “But that shouldn’t stop you from opening the envelope. I could easily stand here for hours avoiding a situation. It’s kind of what I do best.”

“I can remedy that,” you smiled, finally pulling the mission card from it’s confines. “Happiness is finding the perfect dance partner. Learn the dance as instructed and perform it flawlessly. Get an all pass from your instructors or suffer the penalty.”

“That should be easy enough,” Johnny hummed, looking up from the card. You appreciated his optimism.

“It sounds it,” you nodded, biting your lip as you began to contemplate. “Too easy actually.”

“I’m sorry - what?” he croaked, taking a short step away from you. “Mission cards are now worded to provide a false sense of security as you go into a challenge?”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly put it like that,” you sighed. “But it does seem like we’re getting off a bit easy here.”

“What do you have to say?” Johnny asked, pointing to the camera men standing before you. “You two have any intel?”

“If we did, we wouldn’t tell you,” one of them chuckled.

You rolled your eyes and stuck the mission card into your back pocket. Grabbing Johnny by the arm, you tugged the front door open with your free hand. “I’ll ask again, are you ready?”

He nodded, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Born ready. Matter of fact, ready is my middle name. So ready that I-”

You attempted to hold in your laughter as Johnny continued to ramble, trying much too hard to impress you.

“I should probably shut up now...shouldn’t I?”

“Shut up? No,” you laughed. “Calm down a bit? Maybe.”

“I can do that,” he nodded. “Definitely.”

You grinned up at the tall boy as you entered the building housing the dance studio. After blindly following along a few dimly lit passage ways, you had managed to discover the practice room you two would be dancing in that day.

“Please, come in!” your instructors nodded, motioning for you to enter as you began to crack the door.

You looked up hesitantly at Johnny, your stomach doing a flip as your eyes met his.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, placing his hand on your lower back and giving you a gentle squeeze. “I got you.”

You turned around and nodded, his words enough to propel you to enter the room with a bit more confidence. Johnny cleared his throat as he followed and shook his head. You could have heard incorrectly, but you swore he had whispered, “Well...I hope I got you.”

“Hello! How are we today?” the female teacher chimed much too loudly. There was both a male and female instructor, presumably to lead by example in dancing with a partner. You and Johnny both nodded politely toward her as she continued to speak. “My name is Min, and this is my partner, Luis. We’ll be the ones teaching you today! Now, I understand this is your first date?”

“It is,” Johnny nodded, gazing fondly down at you.

“And what a wonderful destination for a first date,” Luis chirped, speaking for the first time. “But I must ask, before we go any further and jump into the instruction, why don’t we make things a little bit more festive?”

You glanced over, following the man’s outstretched hand to a pile of fabric folded atop a bench. Two pairs of shoes sat neatly beside the stacks.

You blinked repeatedly, attempting to clear your vision. “Um...Sorry...but uh...well...What are those?”

“They’re looking like high heels, Y/N,” Johnny chuckled, walking slowly toward his heap of what appeared to be clothing.

“No...but like...what are those,” you repeated, pointing to the near three inch heels waiting near the outfit changes you were being provided.

“If you’re nervous,” he whispered, leaning down so his lips were only inches away from your ear. “We could always switch shoes.”

You lifted your brows as you turned to him, eye level now that he was crouching. “Don’t tempt me.”

You tugged at the flowing black dress now hugging every curve on your body you hadn’t realized you had. Wrapping your hands self consciously around your waist, you teetered forward towards the instructors and sighed. “How do I look?”

“Incredible,” a deep voice answered from behind you. You spun around to see Johnny had entered the room as well, his focus obvious in it’s intent.

The breath you were about to inhale was held captive in your throat as you caught his own change of clothing for the first time. He looked even more handsome than he had last appeared, donning a pair of slacks and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled quarter length. He ran his fingers over his already styled hair and smiled. “I mean...you looked incredible before, but I have to say, this is a LOOK.”

You felt your face grow hot by his words, causing you to look down toward the floor. You monitored carefully from your peripherals as his shined shoes grew closer to your own heeled ones, pausing only once they had reached your side. You bit your lip before looking up through your lashes and trying not to pass out. He was still staring.

“Alright you two, you look great!” Min nodded as she began to circle where the two of you had gathered. “Now that we’re dressed, do either of you have any experience with dance?”

“I do,” Johnny said quietly, finally ripping his eyes away. “I dance quite often.”

“He’s an idol,” you supplemented sheepishly.

Of course he was an idol. You were sure they figured that out whenever the My Idol production staff had contacted them to book the studio.

You swallowed and tried to remind yourself to remain calm. Nerves and butterflies were not your typical mode of operation. You had to get ahold of yourself.

But who were you kidding? How could you be anything but a standing assembly of nerves while you were on a date with Johnny Seo.

“An idol!” Luis nodded, feigning surprise for your benefit. “Then you should have no problem today! Now, why don’t we get started.”

It didn’t take long for the instructors to push you and Johnny close, his hand wrapped around your waist and your hand balanced on his shoulder. He gripped your fingers tightly in the opposite hand as the two of you began to walk through the steps. Beginning slowly, you started with a simple timing exercise. Before long, you had both begun to move with ease, your bodies becoming familiar with one another. The stiffness and confusion quickly oozed away with every count of “1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7.”

To no one’s surprise, Johnny turned out to be a wonderful lead as he spun you and danced, his true talents shining through his experience. He was wise to take you to a salsa class on your first meeting, it had only made you grow more attracted to him as you watched his body move. He was right, body language was simply universal.

After a bit of practice, the instructors had stepped back and began to clap before choosing to dance beside the two of you. You felt proud as your body had seemed to memorize your motions, feeling only a fraction of what Johnny had grown to feel on a daily basis as an idol.

“Good job!” Min clapped, releasing her grip from Luis as she gazed happily at your movements. “I think you’re ready to begin your mission.”

“I thought this was the mission?” Johnny sighed, looking toward you uneasily.

“That was a nice thought,” one of the camera men croaked. “The wrong thought, but a nice one.”

“How do you put up with these two?” Johnny grumbled, shaking his head.

“They’re kind of endearing after awhile,” you muttered. “I promise.”

“Maybe I can stick around long enough to find out,” he smiled weakly.

“Alright you two, your mission, if you so choose to accept,” Min chuckled, approaching you both with something in her hands. “Dance the routine you were just taught, blindfolded.”

“Easy,” Johnny nodded. He grinned at you proudly. “You call this a chall-”

“And you have to successfully switch off partners twice before it’s considered a success,” Min continued. “Luis and I will be dancing beside you and will be waiting for the change.”

“...I retract my words,” Johnny hummed. “They were foolish and I shouldn’t have said them.”

“We got this,” you said weakly as you glanced up at him. “Uh...fighting?”

“Fighting,” he whispered with a wince, lifting his fist half-heartedly into the air.

You didn’t have this.

As soon as the blindfolds were situated to cover your eyes, you instantly felt the butterflies reawaken in your stomach. As if dancing with an idol wasn’t difficult enough, you now had to accomplish the feat while being submerged in complete darkness.

You started out strongly enough. Johnny quickly grasped you and led as the music began, guiding you across the hardwood in perfect time. You felt confident for just a moment, quickly realizing you would have to successfully find Luis and do the routine with him, before finishing up the dance with Johnny. You took a deep breath as your hands left the familiar calluses belonging to your date and found the muscular fingers of your dance instructor.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you danced in his arms, happy to have located him in an eight count and completing your steps as caught. Granted, your chemistry wasn’t quite as culpable as it had been with Johnny, but the simple fact that you had identified him was a success.

The music began to change again, signaling another shift in partner as you felt Luis slide from your fingers, and causing you to spin around the dance floor. You waited anxiously to be reunited with your partner.

But that moment never came.

The music continued as you stood empty handed, hearing a shuffle across the room followed by laughter.

“Y/N, we got this!” Johnny gasped, his voice not even remotely close to where you were standing.

“I...uh...Johnny,” you hummed, beginning to lift your blindfold from your eyes. “I’m not dancing with you.”

“Then who am I...” he trailed, lifting his own blindfold as well. You tried to hold in your laughter as Johnny clutched tightly to one of the camera men. “You’re correct.” Dropping the hand of the camera man, he stepped away quickly, a bright blush painting his cheeks. “This is very much not you. Not you at all.”

You let the laughter rip through you as you bent over, your sides hardly managing to put up with your stuttered breaths.

“I have to say though, he does have incredibly soft hands,” Johnny hummed. “You must moisturize constantly.”

“I’m not interested,” the camera man said gruffly. “But here.”

Your laughter slowly died off as another red envelope was being thrust Johnny’s way, a sure sign that you had definitely failed the mission.

“It’s okay,” you nodded, noting the instant look of disappointment on his face. “It was bound to happen eventually.”

“I can’t read it,” he sighed, pushing the envelope toward you. “Please, can you?”

You nodded silently as you took the card from the camera man’s hands and slipped it from the red envelope. “Mission fail. Your second challenge will be replaced with a penalty. Please move on to your next location.”

“There’s another location?” you asked, lifting your brows.

“Of course there is,” Johnny grinned. “But that’s the part you’re concerned with? Not the whole ominous penalty thing?”

“How bad can it be?” you chuckled, patting him lightly on the arm. “I’m with you after all.”

“Now that I’ve successfully assaulted you AND failed a mission, I can at least feed you,” Johnny grinned, tugging the door open to a quaint Mexican restaurant.

“Please do not tell me,” you hissed, trying not to explode into a fit of giggles. “You took me salsa dancing...and now we’re about to eat chips and salsa.”

“Not to point out the obvious,” Johnny smiled. “But what else are you supposed to do after a salsa class?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you gasped, looking up at him in amazement. “And I love it.”

“Love...yoooou,” he cooed awkwardly followed by a nervous chuckle. “I mean, love this date. Right. Lovin’ it. Sorry, I was just...you know...I get excited and say weird stuff...but like weird can be attractive too sometimes? Right?”

“Right,” you giggled, always caught off guard by Johnny’s small bursts of nerves. It was amazing to watch him pinball between confidence and embaressment. “Totally attractive.”

“So how about that salsa?” Johnny laughed, plopping down at one of the tables.

“Penalty!” the camera man grumbled, handing yet another red envelope to you.

“Right,” you sighed. “This.”

“I’m sorry,” Johnny winced. “I’ll do better next time...assuming there’s a next time. Gosh, I hope there’s a next time.”

You placed your hand lightly on Johnny’s and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Calm,” he hummed. “Right.”

“Right,” you nodded. You opened the last red envelope for the day and read along. “Penalty. The salsa you danced was spicy, but this one is spicier. Enjoy your dinner and good luck.”

“And just when I think I’m being clever,” Johnny muttered. “Salsa after salsa and now our tongues are going to fall off.”

“Is that what happens when you eat spicy food?” you grinned, watching as a waiter brought over a bowl of salsa, dark red in color.

“You know, it’s what I’ve heard,” he chuckled. “But I refuse to let even a drop pass those cute lips. I’ll handle this penalty on my own.”

“While that is a sweet gesture, I would prefer for you to keep your tongue in tact,” you laughed, grabbing a chip from the nearby basket. “To us!”

Johnny took a deep breath as he loaded up his chip with the intimidating dip. “To us!”

The edges of your lips tingled with a mix of heat and numbness. It was as if your lips had fallen asleep and there was no foreseeable way to wake them.

“That...ahhh...that wasn’t too terrible,” Johnny whispered, reaching down to entangle his fingers in yours. “I’ve had worse.”

“I appreciate the lie,” you chuckled. You attempted to exhale quickly, allowing a swift wind to pass through your lips.

“I give the date a ten out of ten,” Johnny smiled, squeezing your hand lightly. “And I have to say, I’m pleasantly surprised I got to go on this adventure with you.”

“Is that right?” you hummed. “Johnny?”

“Y/N,” he nodded. You had paused, jerking his arm back to halt him from moving forward as you made your slow walk back to the SM entertainment building.

“I have a question,” you said slowly, unsure if you should make this statement a recurring theme in your dates.

“Will I marry you?” Johnny teased. “Unsure if I know you well enough just yet, but I’m always open to negotiation.”

“So really? It’s that easy to get you to marry someone?” you laughed.

“Not just anyone,” he grinned. “I do have some standards. But concerning most potential marriage inquiries, all it really takes is some video games and a box of gushers.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” you nodded. “But really, I have a question.”

“Then please, ask,” he cooed. He shifted his stance, moving so he was standing directly in front of you.

“Why did you join the cast of My Idol?” you breathed. You were afraid of the answer, afraid of the brutal honesty that could be hurled your way.

“Well...” he trailed, his eyes searching your face as he spoke. “I’m unsure if you realize, but being an idol is an incredibly lonely existence.”

“But your members-” you trailed, only to have Johnny begin to laugh.

“The members are great,” Johnny agreed. “They’re the brothers I never had...or in some cases the brothers I never really wanted. They provide a lot of support...but that’s not what I’m talking about.

I’m a romantic at heart. And in this string bean body sits a perfectly squishy and soft reserve that really only hopes to be loved. It’s hard to meet people and date people with my profession. Not a lot of potential romantic interests understand or want to open up for the right reasons...whatever that may be. I’m not stupid. I know I don’t know you and you don’t know me...but when I was presented with My Idol, I was presented with a chance to connect with someone who knew what they were signing up for and admittedly, had been vetted enough to be here for at least some of the same reasons I was.

It was just made better to learn what kind of person you were. And I look forward to learning even more.”

“If you make it through,” you whispered, biting your lip in an attempt at being cheeky.

“If I make it through,” he smiled sadly. “But even if I don’t...please don’t sue me for breaking your wrist...and I won’t sue you for breaking my heart.”

“It’s not my choice!” you gasped, smacking him lightly on the chest. “The viewers vote!”

“I know,” he grinned. “But it sounded good, didn’t it?”

#johnny seo #nct #nct johnny #bts #bangtan boys #suga #min yoongi #wonho #shin hoseok #monsta x #jae #day6 #day6 jae #yongguk #bap #bap yongguk #mark tuan #got7 #got7 mark

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chicagocityofclans · 4 years ago

Photo

Simone Campbell → Fola Evans-Akingbola → Human

→ Basic Information

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthday: November 30

Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius

Religion: Agnostic

→ Her Personality (one to two paragraphs)

→ Her Personal Facts

Occupation: Teacher’s Assistant and Bartender at Anonymous while she works on her Masters

Scars: Burn marks from carrying hot plates of food on her arms.

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: The outdoors and Carole King

Two Dislikes: Abuse of the system and Rich kids

Two Fears: Failure and Spiders

Two Hobbies: Swimming and Camping

Three Positive Traits: Stalwart, Industrious, Intelligent

Three Negative Traits: Blunt, Obstinate, Unenthusiastic

→ Her Connections

Parent Names:

Sibling Names:

Children Names:

None

Romantic Connections:

Platonic Connections:

Anya Grace (Classmate): Anya is her only normal classmate. She has no time for BS and is a hard worker. She can see that Anya cares about her degree and has to work just as hard as she does for it.

Tom Mills (Student): Tom has been coming to Simone for tutoring and extra help with his social work class. As a T.A. she's been letting him stay after class to get his work done and avoid any 2 AM emails from the undergrad.

Hostile Connections:

Pets:

None

→ History (paragraph(s) on background) → The Present

→ Available Gif Hunts (we do not own these)

Fola Evans-Akingbola (Simone Campbell) [1][2][3]

#Simone Campbell #Fola Evans-Akingbola #Open #OF #OH #OFH

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lekshk · 4 years ago

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Bangalore days - Nanna Life in Namma Bengaluru

If you hear the word Bangalore, which Malayali would say no? ~ Kuttan (Nivin Pauly's character from the movie Bangalore days) That was the case for me too but life had become stressful when I moved from Mumbai to Bengaluru a year back. My parents settled in Trivandrum, I was juggling between 3 cities. Three operations and a dialysis back to back, my move was a blessing because I could reach my parents faster anytime at a cheaper cost. However, the strain associated with it was good enough to take a toll of my mental health. I was missing Mumbai and all the struggles associated with moving to a new city were clearly affecting me. Work was equally demanding and even though I had a supportive team, I was always having a sense of not being able to give enough. Soon, I started becoming toxic to everything around me. Nothing made sense and I would get irritated at the drop of a hat. Loneliness started creeping in and it just felt like the odds are not in my favor. If only someone could understand me. That's when I came across this quote. Have 3 jobs in life – one that gives you salary, one that keeps you fit and one that gets you creative. ~ Unknown source What excited me reading it, I don't know. Probably the possibility of donning multifarious hats awoke my Mumbaikar spirit. Suddenly, I could feel the buzz and the energy in my bones and I started looking forward to it. To start with - Salary, well, I already had the job. What should I do to keep fit? That's when another quote struck! When you want something badly, the whole universe conspires to make it happen. ~ Pauolo Coehlo (The Alchemist) Salsa, Bachata, Jive – as if the ballet dancer in the picture of Dance with me studio was staring at me. I used to see it everyday while commuting to office, but how come I never payed attention to it?! So, dance it is! Fitness – check it off! Next- Creativity Again, Paulo Coehlo's words started ringing in my ears. I had always wanted to learn art. Cool, that's settled then! Enroll for art classes and burst your creativity! Now, a 9 hour job and Bengaluru traffic don't go hand in hand. I had to find a way where I could have the cake and eat it too! Soon, a time table was set considering the commute time and the space for intermittent relaxation periods. Because self care, while necessary, shouldn't become exhausting by overdoing it out of excitement of newfound strength and invincibility! You can conquer the world but hey! hey! take one day at a time! I realized weekdays I was out for work anyway. So, enrolling for classes on such days would be a good idea because that would ensure I attended them no matter how much ever tiring they seem because the traffic here would discourage you to step out of the house on weekends. I decided the weekends could be a leisurely one instead. Hence, I chose the less peak hours of 12 to 9 pm shift which fortunately my project had. Twice a week, I would attend dance classes in the mornings and freshen up in the office shower rooms and login to work. Surprisingly, even though initially, it was hectic, dance brought out joy in me. I would feel rejuvenated and work was becoming pleasurable. My face started to glow, I would joke with my colleagues, call my parents regularly. There was more laughter and happiness around. The remaining 3 days I would do simple yoga in the meditation room in the office premise. I also made it a point to spend half hour in the library known as the Information Resource Center (IRC). Reading edit page in Bangalore mirror became a ritual and attending video screenings arranged by IRC became part of the work DNA. It motivated me to work better and build effective relationships at work. I enrolled for art workshops during weekends and would spend an average of 3 hours of learning. Here, there was no pressure of commitment because it would be a one time activity and one could take our art work the same day. Soon, I ended up making macrames, dot mandalas, paintings using fluid water colors, acrylics and pallete knives. A finished art work would make me feel proud and the weekday stresses melted away in the art. The remaining hours went in cleaning my room, washing clothes, watching movies, go for shopping etc. The new found love for myself, made me even bolder now. I realized, I had always wanted to teach music. And lo! the opportunity came in and I got 3 kids between 5 to 16 years of age under my tutelage! I was now an entrepreneur! It was here Maya Angelou's words came to my rescue- If you get, give. If you learn, teach. I realized only when you give back to the society, your life becomes meaningful. And volunteering is a great way to start here. What better than TATA initiatives? I began teaching spoken English to security and house keeping staff once a week on weekdays. Though my joy grew multi fold, so did my work obligations. Volunteering on weekdays gradually became a distant possibility. But I was not to give up. When plan A doesn't work, there's always a plan B and the remaining 24 English alphabets! I decided to contribute through content creation instead of teaching and shifted volunteering to weekends instead of weekdays. This resulted in getting associated with other volunteering activities such as making doodles for road safety or attend awareness sessions on mental health or environment conservation or read stories to kids in a children's home. It is said that charity begins at home. For me, it began with myself. The moment I started to take care of myself, it got extended to my family and friends, colleagues and relatives, work place and communities. It was now time to give back to the city that embraced me with open arms. Through The Ugly Indian suggested by a dear friend, I contributed to this NGO's efforts to beautify Bengaluru by adopting the streets, flyovers, underpasses, metro stations, parks through simple geometrical wall paintings, garbage cleaning and sapling plantation, all of them famously known as spot fixing. I realized my problems were indeed manageable. And slowly my cribs turned into love. The expectations from myself, my family, work, colleagues, friends, relatives, communities became easier to maneuver. I started maintaining Gratitude and Thought journals. It is said that either you do what you like or like what you do. I know I have the capacity to look for things I want and pursue them. How about trying the other way round? i.e. instead of going for what I want, can I go for what is available? What does the city offer? Do I like it? Do I want to experiment with it? The answer was a big YES! Famous for numerous start ups, the city is active with events such as dialogues with books, travel, cinema, board games, comedy nights, karaokes in various cafes or at cubbon park and with film screenings and theater performances in metro station auditoriums too! People are ready to welcome new ideas and experiment with them. Boasting of cycling enthusiasts too, I also went for one day cycling trips. The Indian Heritage Walks (IHW) helped me see the city through a different lens. Karnataka being a state blessed with forests, beaches and heritage sites, weekend getaways are pretty popular in the city and I managed to visit Hampi (a long time wish, thanks to the Malayalam movie Aanandam) and Coorg through an adventure group and Karnataka State Tourism Development Corporation (KSTDC) respectively. My next in the wish list is Jungle lodges! As Bengaluru traffic is unavoidable and since I travel by AC Volvo buses of Bengaluru Metropolitan Transport Corporation (BMTC), I decided to read a book during the commute to not only avoid the boredom but to also add variety to my creative pursuits. Known also for pub culture, I reconnected with my cousins already settled here, and together, we explored pubs, fine dine restaurants, reminisced the old days, shared laughter, played poker, watched cricket matches and had loads of fun in simple terms! From all this I realized, when you know and accept who you are and then go for what you want, what you think, say and do, come in perfect harmony. You end up loving more, giving more and caring more. Genuinely. At the risk of sounding cliched, life is indeed a balance. It is simple but we make it complicated. That reminded me of a joke shared by a psychiatrist in the TV show Satyamev Jayate - Agar 100 saal ki zindagi, 10 saal mein jeena chahoge, toh pareshan hi rahoge na? (If you aim to live a 100 year life in 10 years, wouldn't you be stressed?) Now I give percentage of importance to all that matters to me. I neither chuck out anything or compromise anywhere. Because I know I can have it all but not all at once. I remind this kindly to myself and just play with the levels of significance. I try to be flexible enough to change them when necessary. I also try to embrace negative emotions like disappointments, anger, frustration and later change the way I feel about it. Now I don't feel like running away from the past or being afraid of the future. My endeavor instead has shifted to be the first rate version of my unique present. Trust me, it's very hard to practice but it is definitely worth giving a shot. I would like to end on a funny note, keeping in mind the pub culture of the city - When life throws lemons, I order a tequila. In true Bengalurean style, Enjoy Maadi!

Picture collection 1 - (From top to bottom) Family, Cousins, Friends

Picture collection 2 - Volunteering with The Ugly Indian

Picture collection 3 - Alumni meet with storytellers (Kathalaya Academy of Storytelling)

Picture collection 4 - (From top to bottom) Know Your Indian Roots, Dialogues with Books, Tipu Sultan Palace through IHW, SPIK MACAY Classical Vocal Concert

Picture collection 5 - Mime performance with TCS colleagues (Team Mounam)

Picture collection 6 - Art & Craft Workshops

Picture collection 7 - (From top to bottom) Story reading at children's home, doodling for traffic awareness, mental health awareness session at NIMHANS through Volunteer For Cause (VFC)

Picture 8 - Trip to Yelagiri with family and cousin's family

Last but not the least - my love for plants as a gift to all my wonderful readers

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paladinsheadcanons · 7 years ago

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paladins college au?

*puts on sunglasses* LET’S DO THIS. Also, @mal-dambra. -Mod Inara (by the way, I don’t actually know how colleges work exactly and had to google a lot of this stuff, so some info might be inaccurate)

Makoa: The old professor teaching Marine Biology. He owns a massive saltwater aquarium at home. He often takes his students to the local Marine Life Rescue Organization, where a green turtle he personally rescued years ago currently lives. Makoa is well-known as one of the wisest and most knowledgable professors on campus, and most of his students don’t have a problem seeking him for advice for their studies. All the students do need to know one special rule though, Don’t ever challenge Professor Makoa when he’s angry.

Fernando: A former Fine Arts student himself, Fernando now works as an artist’s model at his former university. He doesn’t mind holding some really extravagant poses for long periods of time, and he loves chatting with the artists (when they feel comfortable with it). He sometimes flirts with his fellow artist models for fun. He cosplays during his free time, and he makes all his own armor and props. Also takes up salsa dancing.

Ruckus: Real name Russel. Dropped out of a geology major to get into Robotic Engineering. He’s a really eccentric person, and honestly a huge Sci-Fi geek. His dormmate and partner for the majority of his projects is a reserved dude named Bart. They nicknamed each other Ruckus and Bolt respectively, Ruckus due to his tendency to be loud-mouthed, and Bolt with his immense interests in electrical systems. They argue a lot, but are surprisingly close friends.

Barik: Head of the Engineering department, and a professor specifically for the Mechanical Engineering branch. His personal inventions and projects are often made to help those with disabilities and such, his motivation being his own struggles as a little person. Absolutely no one can deny his genius when it comes to how the stuff works, and he’s won a few awards for it but wants to continue teaching so that hopefully, he would be able to directly encourage more people to do the same with their inventions. He’s rather brash and really direct with both his praise and critiques, but is overall a pretty fun person to be around.

Ash: A Sports Management student, she takes every aspect of her studies very seriously. She’s pretty popular and known to be a strong leader figure in general. She’s also the president of the university’s rugby (For Americans: football) team, which is somewhat ironic to those who know her personally, as she’s someone who likes her personal space, a lot. She’s not huge on social events, but does enjoy the vacation/celebration parties her friends and teammates like to organize, provided they aren’t too wild. There’s a rumour going around that basically anyone attracted to girls has a crush on her. @Mod Ash :3

Torvald: The elderly head librarian at the university, and everyone affectionately calls him Grandpa Torvald. He is very healthy and energetic for his age, and loves chatting with the students and staff if they need any help finding material for their projects. He has a side interest in inventing things, and hangs out with Barik a lot. He gets extremely excited when one of his own inventions, no matter how “insignificant” it is.

Inara: One of the most well-known professors on campus, Inara teaches in Environmental Studies and always encourages her students to be mindful of nature. She has a few rock gardens at home, and collects stones and fossils as a hobby, with enough knowledge of it to help out students and even fellow professors in the Geology departments. She volunteers at an environmental organization called Mother Earth’s Grace frequently. Occasionally, students come to her to talk about personal troubles, and she would always take the time to listen and try to give them advice.

Drogoz: A Herpetology student struggling with student loans. A lot of people accuse him of being greedy and hoarding his money, but in reality he just wants to save up enough as soon as possible to get out of those college debts. (SAVE HIM.) Is a huge nerd when it comes to anything related to dragons, and in spite of his financial state he has a pet bearded dragon he named Pogoz. He loves the little guy, and would punch anyone who makes fun of his little dragon.

Bomb King: A Chemical Engineering student who simply goes by B.K, he was suspended at least twice for his more…explosive projects during classes. He’s often called a pyromaniac by his peers, but he doesn’t particularly care. He does actually take safety very seriously, so he knows his little experiments won’t actually harm anyone, and in reality most of his professors know this too. It’s just that he tends to cause a lot of disruptions.

Cassie: First year student in a Zoology. She loves animals, especially birds, and keeps her pet Greenwing Macaw, Zigs, in her dorm room (it’s technically not allowed, but Zigs is very well-behaved and her roommate Kinessa doesn’t mind all that much). She’s a rich kid who’s friendly to everyone and loves parties, especially those on the beach. She sometimes adopts a stereotypical valley-girl accent to mess with people as a joke, or when she wants to annoy someone who makes fun of her.

Lian: Another rich kid, but with attitude. Her family has very high expectations of her, and she takes those expectations to heart. She’s aiming for a degree in International Relations and takes her studies very, very seriously. She tends to be bossy and demanding in group projects, which results in her not being very well-liked in her classes. However she’s the president of the debate club as well as vice president of the shooting club (with air rifles mind y’all) and is well-respected for her skills in those departments. She has a reputation to uphold, but her guilty pleasure is watching random Japanese anime, and her favourite characters are often the noble girls with the obnoxious laugh.

Kinessa: Cassie’s roommate and a Business student, but she doesn’t actually give much thought to her studies. Was held back in high school due to a few disciplinary issues, thus about two years older than Cassie despite them both being first years. She has an interest in firearms and is the president of the shooting club. She likes watching movies of military stories, and has at one point considered joining the army herself, but decided against it, mostly due to her uncle, Strix.

Sha Lin: The resident playboy who doesn’t actually date anyone, and a student majoring in World History. He enjoys learning for the most part, but there are certain classes which put him to sleep. He’s also that person who refuses to sleep early and regrets it the next morning, as he is in no way a morning person. He survives on coffee and energy drinks. He absolutely hates exams with every fibre of his being but does study a lot for them. He’s in the archery club and considered to be one of their best, but has refused the position of leadership. Has plans to travel the world and visit major historical places of interest someday.

Viktor: He’d hoped to attend college in his youth, but was unable to, and ended up in the army forces. Now a retired soldier, he has decided to pursue a degree in Government Studies despite knowing how challenging the whole thing would be, especially as a much older student compared to his peers. However, he plans to take the lessons he learned during his time in the army and apply them to his studies, and has no intention of backing out regardless.

Tyra: A Archaeology student who absolutely loves the outdoors and exploring new places. Part of the reason she decided to pursue such a degree was due to the hopes of one day exploring new places with challenging terrain. She is also a well-trained survivalist, and thoroughly enjoys hiking and camping, especially in mountainous areas. It’s a well-known rumour that she fought a bear and won, which was how she got that bear skin she hung on the wall of her dorm room, but in reality she just bought the fake skin off a random pawn shop one day cuz she thought it was cool.

Willo: Everyone thinks she’s not supposed to be there cuz she’s too young. She’s actually a child prodigy, and is among the top of her classes. She’s pursuing a degree in Botany and dreams of one day founding a botanical garden and being able to take care of all the flowers growing there. She’s a bit of a prankster, and usually gets away with her pranks by playing the “just a kid” card. This evil prick.

Evie: Currently putting off going to college for the time being and enjoying some time out of high school. She does visit her local university frequently, mostly for the crazy-good ice cream cafe they had there, but she does wonder if there would be something she’d like to study there.

Skye: She’s one of the most notable students in Fashion Design, as well as a pretty notorious student on her own. She’s a little older than most of the other studies, as she took a few years off to work before attending college, and she likes flirting with many of the other students and even the staff, provided they were within her own age range. She has some interest in chemistry and botany, and some say that she once used that knowledge to poison someone who did something bad to her. This rumour was actually true, except that the “poison” was actually just terrible coffee and the guy was just being overly-dramatic.

Androxus: Dropped out of college halfway through his second year, but a few years later returned to work there as a night guard, considering he already knew the place well and knew his way around a fight. He’s very quiet and the other guards are wary of him, but he doesn’t intend to bother them as long as they don’t bother him.

Buck: He’s a yoga instructor in an on-campus fitness centre. He’s a lot louder than most people would expect, but he knows how to be patient with his students and colleagues. He’s a fairly religious Buddhist, and was allowed to set up a small shrine in the studio, which he prays at for prosperity everyday.

Maeve: Hasn’t started college yet, due to a really bad financial situation and being homeless. She isn’t really sure she even wants to get into college though, as she doesn’t particularly see any fulfilling futures for herself just yet. She hasn’t given up on the idea yet though.

Zhin: A really notorious problem student, with a small band of delinquents at his side. He doesn’t really do anything particularly serious, but definitely has a severe attitude problem with every one of his professors and many of his classmates. He’s technically a student in International Relations along with Lian, but he hardly shows up to classes. Has been threatened with expulsion several times, but he doesn’t care much.

Lex: He has dreamed of becoming a police officer as a kid, but eventually decided to pursue a degree in Law and become a court prosecutor, feeling that it would be more fulfilling to do so. He’s a really serious student, and actively tries his best to participate wholeheartedly in every class. He’s a bit of a sci-fi nerd when he isn’t studying, and has a thing for surfing.

Mal’Damba: That one creepy Medical Science professor with a ton of wild rumours surrounding him, one of the most well-known rumours being him secretly being possessed by some evil demonic spirit. Students staying late in any of the school of medicine’s buildings literally pray they don’t run into him at night. In truth Mal’Damba is just super skinny due to a mild metabolism issue and doesn’t get a lot of sleep thanks to his pet snakes being noisy jerks at night (he won’t move them from his room though, he loves them too much despite everything). He runs on several cups of coffee everyday. Someone save this man.

Pip: An overly-enthusiastic Chemical Engineering student, a year below B.K. He’s easily fascinated with chemical reactions in general and always asks a ton of questions. Some of his professors have literally had to ask him to give them a break from answering his questions. He likes studying a little more than most, and likes to work on pretty much all of his projects as soon as possible. Whenever he has any problems he either seeks out his professors or tries to find them in the library. Luckily for him, Torvald loves excitable students like him. Pip has a little fennec fox plushie he cuddles to sleep, which helps him deal with being away from home.

Grover: The head caretaker of the campus greenhouse and gardens. He’s a very quiet and gentle person, and is often visited by Inara, Willo, and Grohk. Whenever students have classes while he was caring for the plants, he likes to teach them a few more trivial details about the plants, or maybe tell the students some interesting experiences he has had in the gardens, such as the time he fell asleep under one of the larger trees and was awoken when a chick fell from the tree onto his lap.

Grohk: A student in Environmental Science, Grohk has a love of nature almost rivalling that of Inara. He loves to visit gardens, and has a particular fondness of thunderstorms. He volunteers at Mother Earth’s Grace along with his professor Inara, though not as often. He sometimes struggles in classes due to a minor speech problem, but other than that he’s pretty happy with his college life so far. That being said, he tends to stress out quite a bit when his projects’ deadlines and exams start coming up.

Seris: She’s the head nurse at the infirmary located in the school of medicine. She’s a very quiet and mysterious person, who pretty much only ever spoke when necessary. Some people are scared of being treated by her as she is visually impaired, but Seris has never made a mistake with her treatments in the infirmary, especially when her assistant Ying is there to help.

Ying: A recent Medical Science graduate, Ying is currently an intern assistant nurse at the infirmary at her former school. She’s still new, but has a lot of fun helping the patients. She also enjoys working with Seris and has a lot of respect for her. Ying is very outgoing and friendly, and when she’s not working at the infirmary she’s out volunteering at an orphanage. She carries around a small antique mirror everywhere, which she considers to be her lucky charm.

Jenos: A professor in Astronomy & Space Sciences, he’s kinda that professor that gets on everyone’s nerves due his more arrogant side. He’s good at what he does when he teaches, and is fair with his grading, though he has a bad habit of making dumb comments about his students or colleagues to their faces. He genuinely enjoys his work though, finding joy in thinking about the mysteries of space and the stars. He likes to go stargazing on his own every now and again.

Strix: Kinessa’s uncle, and an old friend of Viktor’s from their shared time in the army. Unlike Viktor, he chose a simpler life after the military, and instead crafts small trinkets to sell. He does visit the college often though, sometimes to visit Viktor, sometimes to check in on Kinessa as he lives closest to the institute within their family. Kinessa and him don’t particularly get along due to a serious disagreement regarding Kinessa’s initial plan to become a soldier at one point.

#all champions #paladins #paladins champions of the realm #paladins headcanons #long post #college au #i got a little carried away #but it was fun

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juggiehasmyheart17-blog · 7 years ago

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Dancing Heels Part 2

Warnings: slight smut at the end, drinking Part 2: Betty awoke to thoughts of the previous night, her eyes still closed taking in the scene stuck in her head. The warm lights, music pumping through her body, a blur of moving silhouettes, a boy and a girl arguing. She smiled at the night. Sure, she had been thrown out of the party but it had been unexpected and thrilling. Dull.That was a word to describe Betty’s life, but last night threw that word out the window. Sunlight poured into Betty and Polly’s room streaming onto Betty’s face. She groaned throwing her hands onto her face trying to block the sun out. “Rise and shine Baby!” Mrs. Cooper sung out. “You must tell me all about Kevin Keller!” Betty sighed sitting up. She had been fortunate enough to get home last night when her parents were asleep, avoiding this conversation. Now she had to face it, coming up with white lies to make her mother happy. “Kevin is a very nice guy, he’s swell.” Betty said briefly. It was true, Kevin seemed like a great guy but Betty wasn’t interested in a showmance to please her parents or really any guy her parents liked at all. Before her mother could respond the doorbell rang. Mrs. Cooper gazed out the window and gasped. “Get dressed! Get dressed! It’s Kevin!” She shouted running out the room. Betty sighed wondering if Kevin was going to show up everyday. She quickly got dressed in what some may call a tennis outfit, a light green polo shirt and a white skirt. She slipped on her sneakers and walked slowly to the living room. Her ponytail was sitting tightly on her head. “Hi Kevin,” Betty softly smiled at the boy standing in front of her. Relief washed over Kevin and he walked towards Betty, he was suffering at the hands of Mrs.Cooper for too long. “You two have fun!!” Mrs. Cooper rang out as they walked out the door. Betty shook her hand as she walked through the door Kevin was holding open for her. “Sorry about my mother.” Betty apologized once her mother was out of earshot. Kevin shrugged his shoulders, “I’m used to it, my dad uses me as bait for the families with young daughters. ‘Come to Keller family resort where your daughters have a chance at marrying my son!’” Kevin did his best to imitate his father voice, but it came out as a jolly green giant accent. Betty laughed at his impersonation as they walked, she didn’t know where she was going so she just followed Kevin. “So ‘parent-baiting’ isn’t your idea of a good time huh?” Kevin chuckled, “Yeah, you could stay that.” Betty looked up from her feet, a stunning lake standing in front of her. “Wow I never knew this was here, it’s beautiful.” Kevin smiled sitting down a rock below him, Betty following his actions, sat on a lower rock next to him. Betty directed her gaze to Kevin, “So when you’re not here or at university, what do you do for fun?” Kevin sighed not sure what to tell her, he didn’t do much else but study. “I like to sing, I’m involved in an old fashioned quartet.” Betty squealed, “With costumes and hats?” Kevin laughed and nodded his head. “It’s a little different than most quartets…” “How so?” Betty pried. Kevin took a deep breath staring at the lake not wanting to face her. “All the members are gay, as in they like men.” Betty was a bit taken back by the boy’s comment. ‘’Oh, okay.’’ In the time that they were in there was not many openly gay people and the fact that Kevin was open about it only made her like him more. He was different. He didn’t fit in a box. Kinda like her. ‘’I can see why you don’t like to spend summers here, not much possibilities to meet cute boys huh?’’ That made him laugh. “Yeah I can watch but I can't touch.” “Does your dad know?” Betty asked tugging her knees into her chest. She couldn't imagine telling her parents something like that. She can barely tell them she doesn't want to marry a guy they pick. But if she was Kevin she would have to tell them that she didn't like guys at all. She couldn't fathom how that conversation would go. Kevin scoffed. “No. He would fall over and die right there on the spot. I've tried to but choked at the last minute.” Betty nodded. “I hope one day you have the guts to tell him.” Maybe one day she’d have the guts to tell her parents what she really thought. After a moment of silence she smiled at him. “Well I’m happy to have found a friend.” Kevin smiled. “Me too.” A moment of serenity fell of the two of them as they reflected on the relief that washed over them. Kevin finally telling someone in his resort world that he was gay, and Betty realizing she wouldn’t have to break his heart, but help hold it together instead. Across the lake a figure appeared gazing out over the water, tall, dark and brooding. Betty knew exactly who it was despite being some 100 feet away. Jughead. “What do you know about Jughead?” Kevin caught the sight she was captured by as he answered her question. “He’s handsome, obviously, mysterious for sure, that leather jacket he wears is never off of him except when he’s teaching a class. I’m not sure what the meaning of it is or the emblem on the back but I can imagine it’s got some kind of emotional significance.” He paused, “Wait are you interested in him?” Kevin asked his mouth ajar and his eyes popping out of his head. Betty giggled at the sight of Kevin, “Well I mean who wouldn’t be? He’s the most attractive guy here and there’s just something about him. He’s rude and coarse but something tells me inside there’s so much more to him.” Kevin grinned at her knowing this was going to be the best summer he ever had in this hellhole. Jughead was completely ignorant to the pair sitting on the other side of the lake. His mind had run away to all the troubles he was currently overwhelmed with, he was alone and struggling. A boss that hated him, a family who was god knows where, and now there was a intriguing girl causing havoc on his life here and he knew she wasn’t going to stop. He saw the determined gleam in her eyes. He ran his hand through his beanieless hair, something he hadn’t worn in years. A tap on his shoulders interrupted his thoughts, “Penny for your thoughts?” Jughead turned around to face Ronnie. “Hey.” “Sorry to interrupt but we gotta get to our class.” Ronnie said draping her arm over his shoulders and leaning into him. Jughead sighed, “Yeah let’s go.” Ronnie’s arms dropped from his stature and followed him through the woods back to the main trail. Betty watched the interaction between Jughead and Ronnie. With the way Ronnie hung on him and seemed to always protect him and tell him what he needed to do, Betty wondered if they were together. She shook away the feeling as they walked farther away from the lake. Betty cocked her head as she caught sight of a doubleheaded green snake on Jughead’s back. Southside Serpents was written around the snake. Maybe she was right, maybe he had layers, and maybe she had to peel them back to see what was underneath. Jughead threw his heavy leather jacket on a nearby chair inside the small dance studio which sat caddy cornered to the mail hall. He ran his fingers through his rough brunette hair, a steady trickle of older people coming through the screen door. Ronnie was cheery self as she welcomed the class for the day. “Hey Arnold, looking good today handsome.” “Charles, I like those pants. Are they new?” It was pretty easy for Ronnie to use her charm on the class considering there were only a few men involved. Most of the class were women from the ages of 40-75. While the resort didn’t host many young adults, the ones that did find themselves there were locked away by their parents. “Hi there Jughead. Are you ready to show me some new moves today?” Mrs. Tyler flirtatiously asked as she snaked around Jughead’s frame, her hand caressing his rear end. Jughead jumped at her sneaky move, as the noise of the opening of the screen door caught his attention. He went to respond but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the figure entering the studio. Standing awkwardly in the entrance, the girl shuffled her feet. Jughead took his time examining her under the revealing light of day. She was enchanting, the way her blue eyes sparkled under her overwhelming emotions. Her body petite but shapely, her polo shirt tugging tightly against her chest. “Betty!” Ronnie screamed and ran to the girl hugging her. “So you’ve come to check us out under Jughead approved circumstances?” Ronnie laughed her arm slung around Betty’s shoulders. Betty’s giggle sounded throughout the room making Jughead’s stomach drop with intrigue. Her ponytail swung with her light steps towards the front of the room. Jughead let his stare linger on Betty a little longer than he intended. One of the older women cleared her throat getting Jughead’s attention. She motioned towards Betty as if telling him to make a move. Jughead knit his eyebrows together and shook his head at her. “Alright let’s get started with salsa today. Ronnie, music please” Jughead commanded back in his usual Jughead attitude. Ronnie threw him a glare as she pressed play on the retro boombox. Jughead reached for Ronnie, pulling her towards him. Ronnie sighed taking her stance with him. “Don’t show off Jug, she won’t like it.” Ronnie mentioned as she spun out from him, winking at Arnold who stood near her holding onto his wife Tammy. Jughead’s mouth sat gaped at Ronnie, he wasn’t showing off, he wasn’t affected by Betty “Baby” at all. Betty was invited onto the dance floor by one of the few older men. She copied Ronnie’s position on the older man keeping a further distance from him than Ronnie did from Jughead. The older man led her in the steps as he watched Jughead’s moments. “Ouch!” Betty exclaimed stepping back from her partner, her foot throbbing. Ronnie frowned at the situation. “Don honey, would you like to dance with me? I could use a stronger partner.” Ronnie offered to Betty’s partner. He quickly dropped Betty’s hands and stepped towards Ronnie. “Dance with her Jug.” Ronnie threw over her shoulder low enough for only Jughead to hear. Jughead sighed and nodded at her requested. “Baby is it?” He echoed to Betty, his posture uninviting. Betty tentatively walked to him. “Yes that’s me.” ‘‘Looks like you’re my partner today.” He muttered taking her hand and pulling her close to him, his right arm securing her in place. “Better keep up.” He added with a smirk. Betty knees nearly buckled beneath her, her hand grabbing Jughead’s shoulder for stability, and with that Jughead began to move. Jughead held her closer than Don, Betty’s previous partner, had. His moments were swift and tidy forcing Betty to swing along with him. She was not a dancer by nature and her ‘white-girl’ dancing was far worse than most. Yet somehow she managed to keep up with Jughead and the music that seemed to coarse their his body and into hers. Betty glanced over to Veronica as she lead Don around the room, six inches sitting between them. Perhaps Jughead preferred to dance close to his partner or maybe Ronnie wasn’t taking a chance on the old man. Betty had seen the men around here get handsy with the staff and Ronnie didn’t seem to be one to put up with that behavior. Without Betty’s full attention on Jughead, she found herself catching her balance trying not to fall to the tile floor. He had let go of her as the music stopped. “Great job guys. See you tomorrow.” Jughead spat abruptly turning off the stereo. Ronnie flirted shamelessly with older men as they left and closed the door behind them. She stomped towards Jughead, “What the hell is wrong with you today?” Jughead shook his head at Ronnie, “I’m not in the mood, Ronniekins.” He mimicked her famous nickname for Archie, the waiter. As the argument started to raise in volume, Betty rushed to grab the door handle. “Betty. Stay.” Ronnie instructed without turning her face to Betty. Betty stood frozen facing them at the door. She cleared her throat as they stared at each other. Ronnie huffed as she walked over to Betty, who was still unsure what unspoken argument they had just had. “Come, tonight to the dancers only room.” Jughead opened up his mouth to speak. Ronnie held her hand up in his direction. “Do not say a word, Jughead.” She paused lowering her hand and taking a deep breath. “We will see you at eight.” Betty nodded, gulping slightly as she glancing at the ajar door. Ronnie cracked a smile, “Yes, you may leave Betty.” Without a second thought Betty walked quickly out the door both excited and scared for the night ahead of her. Ronnie turned on her heels to face Jughead. “Alright burger loving bonehead. Your attitude is at a nine today. I have a good feeling you blew it with Betty but I won you a second chance. Don’t blow it Forsythe.” She threatened as she picked up her bags and strutted out the door. As soon as Ronnie walked out the door she stood face to face with one of the thin and tall waiters who clung to the corners watching her and Jughead dance. They clouded in the corner like a swarm of flies at a picnic. Ronnie would admit that most of them were handsome, this waiter especially with his long red locks. “Hey there, Jason. Did you find the girl you're going to woo this summer?” Ronnie asked throwing a youthful grin at him to which he flashed a smile that was worth melting over. “I did. Her name is Polly, she’s quite the looker. Nice curves, long blonde hair...” he drifted off licking his lips. Ronnie cut him off raising her hand, “too much information jayjay.” Jason smirked, “Is the infamous Ronnie jealous?” He asked stepping close to her. She batted her eyelashes with a sweet smile. “You wish!” She shouted as she pushed him away playfully before running away blowing him a kiss. Jason chuckled as he caught the kiss and put it in his pocket. Before Betty walked to the cabin she stopped at the main hall. “Mr. Keller!” She called out upon seeing him, “Have you seen Kevin?” “Right here Betty, is everything okay?” Kevin asked approaching her from a hidden hallway with a concerned look on his face. Betty smiled at him and took a hold of his hands, playing it up for Mr. Keller “I wanted to know if you wanted to go for a swim tonight after dinner?” Mr. Keller snickered at the sight knowing he had the Coopers in his hands. He sent a wave to his son with a wink and walked into the kitchen. “Okay so are we seriously swimming or?” Kevin asked not sure what parts of the act were true. Betty dropped his hands as the people around them disappeared. “I got invited to a hang out with Ronnie.” Kevin's eyes widened as he bounced on his feet happily. “So Jughead’s gonna be there right?” He asked pure excitement in his voice. Betty bit her lip with a nod as she joined in his jumping. A man walked through the kitchen door which swung on its hinges behind him. Kevin and Betty seized movement, Kevin's throat clearing. “So I'll meet you at the lake later.” He clarified with a thumbs up letting her know he would cover for her. “Yes! Yes, thank you.” Betty almost whispered as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Later that night, Betty stood in front of the barn doors which held Jughead and their dancing gang. Betty tried to make her feet move but every time she stayed in place. Betty sighed, digging her nails into her skin. “You going in?” A voice beside her asked. She jumped as her head whipped to the right side, her hand clutching her chest. “Archie! You scared me!” Archie smiled at her heightened reaction. “Sorry Betty. You going in or not?” Betty sighed nodding her head, “I'm going in.” She marched to the door and made her way inside not remembering to hold the door for Archie. “Betty!” Ronnie exclaimed mirroring earlier events. “We’re so happy you came!” Betty arched an eyebrow suspiciously. “We?” Ronnie nodded pointing a finger to Jughead who was watching them sipping on a warm beer. “Well I'm gonna grab a drink.” Betty stepped in the direction of the table when Archie arrived in front of her with two drinks. “For my ladies.” He offered with a smile, handing them the drinks in his hand. Betty murmured a thank you while taking the drink from him. Ronnie beamed at him, “Thank you Archiekins.” Betty took her drink in slowly, her surroundings becoming a bit blurry. She wasn't a drinker in fact this may be the first drink she ever had, she couldn't remember. Perhaps a small glass of champagne at a wedding, but nothing strong had ever touched her stomach. Jughead walked to Betty with a purpose, taking her hand, he didn’t say a word. He pulled her lazily to the dance floor. Betty giggled, whether it was prompted by the alcohol or by his actions was unsure. Surrounded by sweaty bodies in the middle of pulsing music, Jughead pulled her into his body like Betty watched him do to Veronica many times. She found herself automatically wrapping her arms on his neck when his hands snaked around her waist. He pulled her hips tight against his groin. Betty gasped at the prodding member on her thigh. Jughead smirked as he began to move their hips together. Betty held tighter onto his neck trying to steady herself from his movements against her. He held her waist against his chest and continued to grind against her. She moaned letting her head fall into his neck. The sound that escaped her mouth seems to motivate Jughead further, his groin rubbing frantically against her. Betty arched her back to slide down him slightly, her head hanging behind her. Jughead grinned at her and pulled her back up to meet his gaze. Betty bit her lip dying to close the gap between them. Jughead recognized the gaze in her eyes and pulled away from her, his arm dropping from her waist. If he stayed any longer he would lose his control and give in to the desire in Betty's eyes. “That, baby, is how we dance around here.” Jughead said abruptly walking towards the door. On his way out, he grabbed a cup of beer pouring it down his now dry throat. The cup fell to the ground as he walked out the door.

#riverdale fanfiction #bughead #dancing heels #dirty dancing AU #bughead AU #slight smut

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ryecolombia · 7 years ago

Text

Intro Camp

August 24th Day 1: I reached my final destination of Cali Colombia at 9:00 pm, a weary traveler anxious for the first confrontation with her new family. I was greeted with a sign, flowers, and the smiling faces of my new dad Antonio and sister Mariana. The drive from Cali to Tuluá seemed to fly by, in part because Antonio drove faster than any American I've known. About an hour later, we arrived at my new home to a greeting from my new mother Gloria and the two family dogs, Carnela and Luke. Gloria, dressed much like her daughter, didn't look a day over thirty. I was too sleepy to completely soak up the brief tour of my new home. From my hazy memory, I recall a gated driveway opening into an open room where Gloria met me with open arms. A deeper retreat into the building led us through a dining room protected by a roof but open to the uncovered driveway. Cool tile met each step as I gazed over the barren white walls. No paintings or photos but still beautiful none the less. I slept in Simon's (my brother) room that night but I will move into Mariana's room when she departs for France on exchange. Private bathroom, walk in closet, I couldn't ask for anything more. After the tour I groggily packed for the next day: my first Rotary conference with all of the inbounds, and then fell into a deep sleep. August 25th Day 2: Soft clatters and the bustle of morning chores gently rocked me from my slumber around 7:30 the next morning; The walls of my new house are very thin. I ventured out of Simon's room around 8:30. The furry face of my pupper greeted me as soon as I stepped out of the door. Mariana was soon to follow. "Would you like breakfast?" "Sí." This is how most of my interactions with Mariana go. She asks questions in English and I respond in improper Spanish. I've spent very little time with Mariana but I can tell already she is full of kindness. I'll be sad to see her go on Monday as she wings her way to France. "Eggs? Cereal?" I chose cereal. The first real difference I noticed between Colombia and Oregon was the milk. The same taste but drastically different packaging. I mean have you ever had milk that came from a bag? Me neither. After breakfast Gloria and I departed for the Tuluá pick up where I boarded a bus to Pereira. The students on the bus were kind and welcoming. I sat with a girl from Belgium and a boy from Missouri for the entirety of the ride, sharing stories about our experiences in Colombia. I find the bonds you can foster with strangers through shared experiences absolutely incredible. Before the bus ride, I didn't know a single one of the exchange students. After, we collectively unearthed each other's history and life through the power of small talk. The bus, taking us through areas of agriculture and lush emerald mountains, arrived in Pereira around ten. I was tired, anxious, but more than ready to begin the conference. The day commenced with a prison's rendition of a Colombian lunch (which is completely understandable seeing as they had to feed 70+ kids for three days). The group from Bogotá and surrounding area arrived a little later. We were given a bit of time after lunch to meet the new students and unpack. Then off to orientation where we were given an overview of the weekend and took photos with our fellow country members. I was surprised to discover that the country with the largest exchange student population was Germany. France, Belgium, Brazil, and the US had high numbers as well. A Spanish spelling bee followed. Fortunately, we didn't have enough time for everyone to spell so I did not have to participate. Before I knew it, the clock struck seven and it was off to another downgraded Colombian meal. I shouldn't complain about the food just yet because I haven't experienced true Colombian food, only fast cafeteria food served on styrofoam dishes with flimsy plastic cutlery. After dinner we returned to the first meeting room and were given a sheet of paper with a song printed on either side: una lady como tú and deja vu. Each with missing words in each verse. This simple sheet of paper filled me with memories of my Spanish classes in Corvallis, where we participated in the same activity. Music truly is the universal language. We filled in word by word until no space was left blank. As the teens we are, the repetition of the songs became aggravatingly boring and we were soon restless. Studying the music turned into dancing to the music. The teachers and Rotarians gave us a brief overview of the different types of dances popular in Colombia: salsa, bachata, etc. Watching them dance was incredible. Hips swaying and smiles radiating throughout the room, as if they were born dancing. I love this aspect of Colombian culture. Here, dance is am essential part of life. It brings people together effortlessly, fostering only the tightest of bonds. I ended my night with a shower. Icy water trickling down my spine in a slightly unpleasant fashion. Since I packed for the conference the night I arrived, I had no idea what to expect weather wise. Turns out, the nights are slightly too chilly to wear just shorts and a t-shirt. Despite the my inadequate choice of clothing, I was out cold as soon as my head hit the pillow. August 26th Day 3: We left our lodgings at 7:15 for our 7:00 breakfast. Punctuality is not a stressed topic here in Colombia. Milky coffee, fruit salad, eggs, a slice of white bread, and arepa with cheese stared up at me from styrofoam plates. Colombians are very proud of their arepa with beef, cheese, chorizo, anything you could think of. To me, the thick tortilla tastes like very little, but I haven't tried a non-cafeteria arepa yet. After breakfast we made our way back to the meeting building to listen to the rules of Rotary. Two hours later, we were well versed on the 4 D's (which were changed to 6 after they introduced no smoking and disrespect). To keep our impatient minds occupied, we were herded into a peculiar little zoo. Horses winnied from either side as we began the tour. Those were followed by cows, sheep, goats, pigs, an assortment of colorful birds, and many fish. Our eyes were then graced by the beauty of an array of Colombian plants in their prime, almost as if they were on steroids. As I write this, I already notice the affects of being immersed in the Spanish language. As I formulate sentences, the words that first pop into my head are in Spanish. Not egg, huevo, my mind isn't occupied, está ocupado. We were corralled back into the meeting room after the tour to make a skit about being on exchange with a team of eight people. My team ended up with ten students because two arrived late. The team was composed of Adrien and another boy from France, Isabella and another Emily from Brazil, Maude and Sebastian from Belgium, Laura from the Czech Republic, Roman from Germany, Clark from Colorado, and me. Our team name was Los Peces and our motto was nos movemos como pesces en el agua (we move like fish in the water). Which is apparently a common Spanish phrase. English was the most predominantly spoken language of the group, and the whole conference as it happens, but the two Brazilian girls did not speak it. This pushed us to communicate more in Spanish. I ended up writing the skit because no one else took initiative. Two exchange students arrive at the airport in Colombia. One breezes through customs while the other must convince the agent that they are the same person as in their passport photo. Finally they both make it through and greet their families. It was nothing great but I had ten minutes to prepare it. We ate lunch at a different part of the park, a four course meal of salad, a sort of squash soup, steak with rice and fries, and a peculiar coffee and maybe banana layered pudding. The coffee layer was delectable but the other was slightly sour. After lunch we divided back into our teams for Gymkhana, a team scavenger hunt where we had to complete certain activities at each place found. Los Pesces reassembled, tied at the wrist by neon green fabric. And we were off, team flag and park map in hand. Before beginning the hunt we had to find a raw egg around a nearby pond. A man fishing kindly pointed one nestled gently in the crook of a tree out to us. The French boy found another egg as we were making our way to the first destination: a bridge. After explaining that "solo necesitamos un huevo," he threw it back into the bushes. The first challenge was Spanish telephone. After completeling this, we raced through the park to one of the many pools where three members of our team were instructed to spell certain words in Spanish. Next it was back down the hill through a bamboo forest to the tennis courts located at the bottom of a steep grassy incline. We were instructed to crawl up the incline and around a tree, still attached to each other with the flag, map, and egg in hand. I came away from this challenge dirty and covered in new mosquito and ant bites. Our map had one place circled that led us on a wild goose chase to another pool, which didn't actually have a challenge. But it did have a view overlooking the bamboo grove to the green mountains in the distance. I honestly do not know if we finished the scavenger hunt or not but we decided to make our way back to the home base at our lodging. The sky darkened as we walked. Fat rain drops began to fall and the sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. We arrive wet, dirty, and in last place. But I wouldn't have traded the experience for anything else. The rain turned into a heavy downpour as we were greeted by the rest of the students who were coming back from the pool because it was raining too hard to swim. The shadow lifted from those who wanted to swim as we all splashed around in the courtyard, sliding on the wet tiles and taking showers in the water flowing from the roof in rivulets. Our fun finally came to an end when we were called to dinner. Back to the cafeteria we traipsed through the pouring rain. Unfortunately I had no coat or pants so I thankfully borrowed Roman's jacket for the walk. My shoes were tiny lakes by the time we arrived. After dinner we gathered in a small theater to perform the songs we had learned in the groups of eight. Our performance of una lady como tú and deja vu were were mediocre but Roman turned the performance around by rapping his original work in German. By then I was exhausted after the long day full of fun activities and ready for a deep sleep. Instead of telling us to retire for night, one of the teachers asked "¿quieren ir a dormir o bailar?" When in Colombia, you always choose to dance. The beat of the music and the energy in the room revitalized me. We danced the night away to the rhythms of Shakira and Luis Fonsi. August 27th Day 4: The final day of introcamp began with a breakfast of egg and arepa. This was followed with a final spelling bee and an awards ceremony for the group who outperformed the rest in each activity. My group came in dead last. But I wouldn't have changed my group for the any other. Los Peces allowed me to connect with unique individuals from all around the world in a non native language for all of us. It was truly special. The students from Bogotá and surrounding areas left at eleven for the long drive ahead of them. Us Cali kids said our farewells and then made our way down to the pool. Two German girls and I spent our remaining free time relaxing in the shade, watching them frolicking in the pool. We departed at one, making one stop for lunch. Within two hours, I was back in Tuluá, with my new family welcoming me for a second time with open arms.

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