#it was just like two people too so hopefully my dash gets a bit better now lmao

[prisonpodcast]

.

[chemblrish]

Hey Lena, any tips for how to make friends in uni as a nerdy but introverted/socially anxious girlie? 🥺 thank youu

Hi!

I need you to know I saw this ask and immediately thought, "Did I just get a message from my past self?" 😅 Nerdy and introverted? Check. Used to have very bad social anxiety? Check. I was in therapy though and it was immensely helpful! I'm still a little shy but doing incomparably better, so I can tell you what I've learnt and hopefully some of it can help you too :)

Excuse the language, but first of all, you need to give yourself a fucking break. Shy people, we tend to fixate on ourselves: our looks, our posture, on whether what we just said was weird, and so, all our flaws (both real and imaginary) appear magnified tenfold - but only to us. Because truth is, nobody else is judging you half as harshly as you're judging yourself. Nobody is analyzing all your jokes or the way you walk. If you trip or say something awkward, it genuinely doesn't matter. It happens to everybody sometimes, it's okay. Remember that there's nothing wrong with you. Maybe you're shy, maybe you're easily overwhelmed, maybe you have very little experience making friends - but none of these make you inherently weird. So give yourself a break. You're sincerely doing a lot better than you think, I promise.

Small talk is actually not a bad thing, no matter what some edgelords may try to tell you. I used to spark up a lot of conversations early on in uni by bringing up things like the last test (because most of the time I'd get a mildly pained sigh in response and then we'd bond over how hard it was and how the professor was crazy lol) or the upcoming lab class ("Any interesting exercises in your schedule?") or how my commute to uni that day wrecked me and hey are you a commuter? Oh, you live in a dorm, how do you like it? And many other things of this sort, because if you think about it, uni is a neverending source of conversation topics when you're a student talking to another student.

You know how shy people are advised to just ask questions because everybody loves talking about themselves? That's not a bad advice. The trick is to be genuinely curious about other people. Don't ask just to say something, ask to hear what that other person has to say. This is helpful for two reasons: it takes the focus away from you (which is exactly where shy people shouldn't keep it) by directing it at the other person, and it actually helps to keep the conversation going, because it allows you to find either another thing that might interest you about that person or something to share about yourself.

Maybe it's obvious, but don't hide yourself. I know it's a lot easier to just curl up in a corner with your phone, but you gotta put yourself out there. Hang out with the rest of your course mates outside the lecture hall as you're all waiting for the professor. Take your time packing up afterwards instead of dashing straight for the exit. Don't look for that secluded spot where you can hide safely with a book (even though your introvert instinct tells you to do just that), be where the other students hang out.

Sometimes you have to keep choosing someone. Storytime with a moral: I took a liking to one of my current friends very early in the first semester. She seemed like exactly the kind of person I wanted to stick with in uni. I'd always come up to her and talk to her first but she hardly ever did the same. For some time I'd think, "Welp, clearly she doesn't dislike me, but she doesn't seem to like me much either." Now I can't even remember when that changed, but in an honest conversation we had maybe last month (so after almost two years of knowing each other!!), she told me she often struggles with figuring out whether someone likes her and wants her around or not, so she usually just stays away. You aren't the only introvert out there. Maybe the person you're trying to befriend is also a little anxious and needs a bit more time and effort from you. Don't give up too easily!

Not all people are your people and that's okay. You'll find that trying to talk to someone continuously feels like a chore no matter your good intentions. That doesn't mean there's something wrong with you or with them. Everybody can't click with everybody and that's fine!

And lastly: "different friends for different things" is a liberating philosophy. Maybe there's this one person in this one class that you always sit with and get along with well, but it doesn't seem like either of you wants to take it any further than that. Cool! That's your buddy X from Y class. Not everyone has to be your bestie who knows all your secrets and shares all your interests. Be open to the concept of casual friends, so that you don't miss out on the more meaningful relationships by chasing someone who's just not feelin' it if you know what I mean.

Good luck my fellow introvert. Remember getting better at making friends is a process but also a skill that can be practiced and polished. You got this, I'm rooting for you!

[samirant]

a damned good chocolate chip cookie

ingredients:

12 oz all purpose flour

1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp kosher salt (not table, that’s all wrong for this)

cinnamon to taste

dash of nutmeg

1 cup light brown sugar

1/4 cup white sugar

1 cup brown butter, softened to room temperature

2 eggs, room temperature

1 cup toasted walnuts

1 cup chopped chocolate

the method (which is BY FAR worth the effort):

first, toast the walnuts and let them cool. how much walnuts? measure with your heart. my heart says one cup. chop them up big and small and set aside. (don't know how to toast walnuts? put them on a baking tray, stick them in the oven at 400F for three minutes. take them out and give them a good toss and put them back in for three more minutes. that's it. keep an eye on them in case your oven runs too hot. nobody wants burned walnuts)

second, chop up some good 60-70% chocolate bars. splurge on guittard or ghiradelli. don't do nestle. fuck nestle. they're bad. i mean, the chocolate tastes fine, but the people behind the company are terrible. so fuck nestle. chop about a cup of hopefully morally superior chocolate into little slivers and big chunks, the variety is good. want more chocolate? do it. (sometimes I’ll also use chocolate discs or chips to vary the final look of the cookie because why not?)

next!

get onto the brown butter. don't know how to do it? watch and learn

okay, got that? cool. brown the butter. let it resolidify before you keep going. sometimes i prep it a day or so in advance.

blend the butter and sugar until that stuff is whipped. turn it pale and fluffy and gorgeous with little brown specks. takes you more than 5 minutes to get there? awesome. makes it even better.

Look at how fluffy!

(if you use melted brown butter at this step, i don't know what will become of you, because i only did that once with messy results. go with god if you choose to make that decision, but i won't take any responsibility for it. also, having a stand mixer would help here, but handheld won't hurt you)

is it fluffy and beautiful? excellent.

add the two eggs one at a time, whip it really well. great, that part is done.

dry ingredients:

whisk them together. that’s pretty much it.

the dough:

add the dry ingredients to the wet. in two or three separate batches, mixing slowly, that's a good approach.

add your mix ins. i hope you toasted the walnuts. infinitely better that way. my apologies to those with nut allergies.

once it barely comes together (even if it's a little crumbly), stop.

the next important bit, the really, really important bit, is:

rest.

the.

dough.

some will say for an hour in the fridge, i say overnight. at least 6-8 hours. i've eaten stuff just after mixing the dough or waiting the single hour and it's just not the same.

(little tip: i smush the dough into a quarter sheet baking tray and wrap it with plastic before putting it in the fridge; this step takes care of the crumbly bits and then i just cut it into little squares when i'm ready to bake. round off the squares between your palms and it comes out pretty well)

(Like this!)

bake at 350F for 14-16 minutes, depending on your preference of doneness

there you have it. the best chocolate chip (walnut) cookies i've ever made.

[moonwritewastaken]

Tales of Christmas Day 16 - cc!Karl Jacobs x gn!reader

Genre - strangers to lovers, Christmas, pen pals kinda

Word count - 718

We made it! It’s the last day of the 2022 edition of Tales of Christmas. I’m sorry if this one isn’t detailed enough, I kinda ran out of time 😅Thank you for coming on this journey with me and hopefully you enjoyed the festive imagines! I’ll probably take a little break over the festive period but I’ll still be working on stuff, I just probably won’t release anything for a lil bit. 

- 🌙

At the start of the year, you made a New Year’s resolution to be in a relationship for Christmas. It was mid November and you had pretty much come to terms with the fact that it most likely wasn’t going to happen if it hadn’t already. However, your best friend was ready for a last ditch effort. 

“You could always pull a Dash and Lily” you sit up from your position on the couch to make sure she knew how stupid you found that suggestion. 

“Yes, b/f/n because writing a note in a book and it coincidentally being seen by someone my age actually works in real life” she rolls her eyes at your sarcasm before replying. 

“Then why not try it and prove me wrong? You’ve got nothing to lose if you think no one will see it” you knew she was saying that to get you to do it, but you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be right. 

“Fine, if it’ll get you to shut up” her excitement makes you smile slightly. Although you knew it wouldn’t work, you still had a slither of hope. 

The two of you get to work soon after and it doesn’t actually take as long as you thought it might. She ends up suggesting you use a manga book since it was your favourite genre, and had the largest likelihood of attracting someone suitable (in her words at least). You decide to task the reader with leaving a bookmark with their favourite manga or anime written on it, to make sure they had good taste. Immediately after you’re done, she makes you drop it off at the library and inform the librarian of your plan. 

After a week of refusing to check it even though you were curious, you finally give in. Pulling out the book, you see something sticking out the top and see that someone actually responded. Not only did they give you answers to their favourite manga, they also wrote down their favourite anime as well as a task for you. You were tasked with going to your area’s MrBeast Burger and leaving what your favourite video game was, you wondered why they chose that location but you did as they asked. 

This back and forth continued for the rest of the month as well as into December and you had caught feelings, much to your chagrin and your best friend’s excitement. You knew an ‘I told you so’ was due any day now and you were not happy about it. 

Adding to your piling up emotions, Karl (as you had found out your pen pal’s name was) and you had agreed to meet at a specific café at 2pm today. Although part of you was excited to finally meet him after about a month, the majority of you was terrified. What if you didn’t like him? What if he wasn’t what you thought? Or worse, what if you did like him as much you thought?

By the time you calmed yourself down enough to prepare, you had to leave. Reaching the café at 1:52pm sharp, you walk in and survey the people sitting by themselves. As you’re doing so, you realise that you hadn’t even thought of the possibility that he mightn’t show up. What would you do then? You’re brought out of your thoughts by a guy about your age with fluffy hair coming up to you. 

“Are you y/n?” there was no way this was Karl. He was way too cute to even be near you, let alone asking to meet you. 

“I am. You Karl?” he gives you the prettiest smile you’ve ever and will ever see and leads you to a table. 

It was clear about 20 minutes into your meeting that he was exactly who you thought, but somehow better. The two of you got along great and you realised you had nothing to worry about, except the ‘I told you so’ from your best friend that you hadn’t received yet. 

“Do you want to go on an actual date nest time?” Karl asks you this as your meeting reaches it’s natural end. You quickly agree and you swap numbers so you’re able to schedule and continue talking. 

You weren’t sure how, but you actually achieved your New Year’s resolution. 

[slowestlap]

i have to shoot my shot and ask - HOW on earth do you make your gifs so crisp. they're so clean its literally out of this world!!!!!! when your gifs are on my dash i almost always know its you just by the QUALITY of the gif. help a girl out!!!

Hii! Thank you!! <3 I'm happy with the way my giffing process now goes but it's taken years and a few different fandoms and stumbling upon good tutorials which is why i decided to make one of my own too.

I still love figuring out new things to try and hopefully you can get some new tips to your process from me too. Under the cut is a long af post about gif making, focusing on some basic stuff and sharpening/coloring tips.

________________________

WAY TOO LONG INTRO

Before i get to the photoshop part, the base stuff is super important: You can't turn a very bad video into great gifs since there's only so much photoshop can do BUT you can turn a good video into great gifs. So, obviously the original video quality matters a lot.

I religiously stand by the correct tumblr size dimensions (see example, the numbers mean the width. Height doesn't really matter). However in 3 column sets i’ll sacrifice that one pixel and would make them all 177px. The empty space between gifs in 2 column sets is 4px, in 3 column sets it's 4px + 4px.

Since tumblr can only properly handle 540 gif pixels in the same row, sets with two wide gifs side by side can be laggy to scroll by. So for example, 268px gif will not be as sharp as 540px gif (if you click on it to see it bigger), since it legit has only half of the pixels, but if you plan to post 2 gifs in the same row, the 268px will look better on the dash in the gif set since it’s correctly sized for the best dash result.

I download videos when i can (dl is always better than screen recording), so that's youtube, instagram/twitter etc. Streaming sites/broadcasts i have to screen record and i use OBS to do it. It's the best i've tried for hq recording. I record with 60fps and use display capture. OBS is a heavy program, as is photoshop, so a good enough computer is also super important imo. I used to make gifs with a laptop of 4gb ram/128gb emmc and lost my mind after all the crashing and spent 1k€ on a new one. Basically, have as much performance as you can afford, and editing experience will be much much more pleasant. Of course gifs can be done with an average computer too, it'll just likely be slower and clumsier and you need more patience 😫

Also, i've gotten rid of the urge to be the first to post a gif set when new content drops. I'm not the fastest, i always do every coloring from the scratch. I save to drafts to see how it looks like on mobile, i go back to ps to correct the things that don't look right (too dark/bright, too green/yellow/red, too slow/fast), i make the changes, then save to drafts again and then post. I'd rather post a set i'm happy with than to post quickly knowing i could've made it look better with just a bit more time. (It'd bother me and i'd go back and re-color for my own peace of mind 😅) And i just wanna say it's totally fine when people make gifs of the same stuff!! The more the merrier, no need to think only the first to gif something somehow now has the rights to that moment. I just never get the best result if i try to hurry, so i’ve stopped trying to get my sets out asap. I’ll post when i’ll post.

________________________

SHARPENING

All these words and i haven't even gotten to the point yet 🫣 But fine tuning the details won't work if they don't have a proper base at first. Which!!! Finally brings us to your question:

I'm not sure if the order really matters but the main steps i do in this order: once the layers have been converted to video timeline and video timeline is converted into a smart object -> smart sharpen -> crop -> resize -> coloring

I like to sharpen things first, to me it makes sense to do it before resizing because after resizing you've already lost some pixels, so feels better to sharpen when you still have all the original pixels.

All the above steps (sharpening, cropping, resizing) will affect how the gif looks, so i do the coloring as the very last thing so i can better see how the end result will look.

To me sharpening and coloring go hand in hand, and you use both of them to get the best result. Sharpening obviously does what it says but good coloring will help to make the gif look cleaner and smoother too.

Finally, examples!! The key to a sharp result in my process is 2 sharpening layers. The main layer and the second layer.

Enjoy looking at judgy max f i giffed last year and chose to use as an example here. The source video quality was 1080px and i screen recorded with OBS.

I use photoshop CC2019 so cannot guarantee that these will work the same way in other ps versions. As always, it's about fuckin around and findin out 🙏🏻

__________________

1. Example with resizing done, but no sharpening or coloring (blurry and ungood)

2. Example with resizing and main sharpening layer (already much better)

3. Example with second sharpening layer included (more depth, dark spots are darker, almost too strong of an effect but coloring will fix that)

4. Example with all of the above + coloring (the final result)

5. The final result as a gif

And how did we get that result?

Main sharpening layer settings (yes, it’s in finnish but i think the options are in the same place in every language):

Because the sharpening is quite heavy, I double click on this thingy (red circle) in the layers panel to lower the opacity to 50-70%

The middle layer is gaussian blur, which i’ve set to 0,2.

So basically i intentionally oversharpen the gif and use the opacity function and blur to soften the effect. Dumb or smart, who knows not me, but it’s working for me so i’m rolling with it.

The top layer is the second sharpening layer. A godsend trick i’ve learned along the way: (the difference between the example photos 2 and 3 above)

(I've created an action, so i just gotta push one button and it'll run thru these sharpening settings, ie. i don't have to manually click thru these every time, saves crazy amount of time)

Wasn't sure at which point i'll mention this so i'm just putting it here: when saving the gif for web, i almost always use adaptive and diffusion.

________________________

COLORING

I’m not gonna go thru every coloring thing in my process since this is already so long hsdkfjdkjgkd but i’ll give some info on what i usually do and some tips i've found helpful.

My style is quite natural and i prefer colder tones. I hateeeee overly green/yellow/red skintones that are caused by bad lighting so I always try to correct that. The below stuff is more or less what i did to color that example gif too. (Everything is down to preference, these are just the way i like to color)

My most commonly used coloring layers:

Curves. Utilize the eye dropper tools, pick white eye dropper and click on a white spot on the gif (not pure white tho since it won’t do anything) and it will turn that spot to 100% white and correct the other colors at the same time. Black eye dropper will turn a dark spot you picked to 100% black. It can be super effective, just try a spot, undo, try another spot, undo, until you find what looks good. If you like the result but it’s too strong, lower the layer opacity. And of course you can just simply drag the curve up and get brightness that way. There are times when the eye droppers won't work nicely but it's always worth a try.

Levels. Works similarly to curves, they are basically the more efficient brightness/contrast combo.

Color balance. No gif of mine has been made in the last 3 years without dragging the blue in the midtones to the right. I also often drag the green to magnetas side. 

B&W gradient map. I set the blending mode to soft light and lower the layer opacity. Gives the gif a bit more depth and pop to the dark/light parts.

If the dark parts in your gif are too dark, for example details around eyes look messy but you don't want to lower the contrast, then try adding light colored gradient map (light yellow-white or light blue-white etc) and set it to soft light and play with opacity. It will give light and brightness to the gif without making things blinding and not losing much contrast.

Photo filter. I’m almost always going for cold blue and 10-20 setting. (Orange filters can give a nice effect too, if you want to bring some warmness to the gif.)

Vibrance. Always adding at least a little bit, helps colors to pop and makes skintones look nicer.

Selective coloring. Just drag them sliders to left and right to see what works, that’s really the best advice i can give. If you want reds to pop, go to red and play around. If you think the white spots are a bit blinding, go to white and then slide the bottom one (black) to the right. If you want some more contrast, go to neutral and slide the bottom one (black) to the right. Same with black (black).

Also, i don't like to do too much with one layer. I tend to do different colors with different selective coloring layers, so if needed i can lower the opacity and it will only affect that one color. Also it's handy to duplicate layers if you really want a certain color to pop, one layer often isn't enough in that case so duplicate it and if it's too strong then play around with opacity.

(Left image below). If you want to correct overly yellow/green skintones, go to yellow and you can try these settings. Then lower the layer opacity to see what looks good. 

(Right image). If you struggle getting rid of very red tones, you can use hue/saturation layer, go to red and just drag the middle slider to the left. (This is also a good tip with POC, when you think their skintone is overly orange/red but you are afraid of white washing. This setting will usually correct the orange and red tone without taking the dark/black color away.)

______________________

THE END

Wheew this is what happens when you give me an opprtunity to talk about giffing 😅 I hope it was easy to follow, feel free to ask if i was unclear about something!! And hopefully you got to learn something new. 

Also these are obviously just my way of doing things, not the Only Correct way, do whatever you like and enjoy and don’t worry too much if other people do things differently. Most important thing is to have fun creating 🫡

[maguro13-2]

HOW VENUS AND MARS PREDICTED CLIMATE CHANGE?

Venus : Okay, Mars. We're all inhabitant, we got fresh water, totally great, not a bit too shabby. We're all good, all good. So, what's become of this planet of me and Mars, all in this together.

Mars : Of course. There's nothing like two planets being inhabitable with all this fresh resource of ours. It's no big of a deal that we are all natural and beautiful!

Venus : You said it!

*SIZZLING*

Venus : Hey, Mars. I'm feeling hot...I'm being roasted...are you being cooked?

Mars : No, why tho?

*SAMURAI JACK SFX : Shine*

Earth : Oh God! My eyes! Venus! You're too bright!

Mars : What the-?

*Sonic 3/3D Blast Sfx : Flame Shield*

Mars : Oh no! I've turned red! Oh that stupid sun! Why does it do that! Climate change! We planets are getting climate change! They're volcanoes coming out of me!

Venus : So do I!

Mercury : Oh God! Why is everything so hot!?

Venus : This is not what I expected!

Mars : Damn you, Sun! You gave us the Greenhouse Effect! You gaves us, CLIMATE CHANGE!!! ["Climate Change" is echoed]

*scenario ends*

Minako : So you see, Rei. Venus and Mars you used to their natural beauties since the Sun has dashed it all away with heat that made them a barren wasteland and that's how the two planets got their climate temperatures maxed out.

Rei : Indeed a fascinating story, you got there. I'm impressed that how Venus and Mars got our climates together, it's not that I care about. I'm sure that Earth is fine without us dealing with the climate changes. It would even hurt a fly since the moon was born about over a year.

Usagi : Of course, guys! That's a great interesting story you got there, but I think you forgot that climate change on earth is happening right now in America!

*THUNDER CRASHING+STRONG WIND BLOWING*

Rei : What!?...Damn it!

Minako : No wonder America is being devastated and ordealing with storms! Talk about a huge misunderstanding about Earth's climate being a total wreckage by humanity's stubborness!

Ami : Hopefully, this would all feel better if America was ordealing with the storms that devastated it's own people and land! Just because's america is a opened land that has a storm-filled ordeal and people we're too stupid to realize that all farms, towns, and great cities on the east coast are being devastated and also floods, floods of bad wheather from the planet's climate.

Makoto : This is the real reason America couldn't be that strong if it has an ordeal with storms every single time! Does anybody told me that who doesn't believe in God, I think that's a theory!

Ami : You think!?

Usagi : Oh boy! This is going to get messy!

Minako : HERE COMES THE STORM!

*later...*

Usagi : Well, the storms may have devastated everything, but the farmers who raged against it had their crops saved. Also, the storm that tried to obliterate just mistakenly ate our clothes.

Minako : (scoffs) You think so?

Rei : Why did we even bother saying no to "Climate Change"? If only Venus and Mars had their land back that was natural beauty in the past, this planet's climate would never waste any preacious beauty in America, storms like this in the country has ruined everybody's lives and destroying those who worked so hard on the farms, and it's because of one thing that human stubborness has effected the planet.

Minako & Rei : [together] Greenhouse Effect! Jinx!

Ami : Okay...Well, I guess that the Solar System's temperature explains a lot.

Makoto : Gladly to agree.

Usagi : Hahahaha! Okay...Let's get out of here before anyone sees us naked!

Minako : Right.

(the girls sneakily escapes while covering their selves)

Usagi : Don't worry, it'll just go off immediately, their's fresh, tons of land to travel, nothing to see here, just doing our business!

Minako : Don't forget, you owe me that Greenhouse stuff from Venus and Mars.

Rei : Like that'll ever happen.

*Door opening*

America : (with a goofy voice) Hey, everyone. *door closes* I finally survived the chaotic storms that everyone has been ordealing with. I survived it all! Who's laughing now that humanity's an arrogant species, stupids!? I'm getting the last laugh now! (door suddenly falls on him, crushing him) Oww! I get everyone's point now! I'll make sure that I know how to stop this stupid ordeal of mine! Tell it to the West Coast! That'll make their life easier!

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Monday

Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Pairing: SBI x sister!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: swearing, toxic friends, panic spirals/attacks, injury, taking pills for pain

Summary: you have a very bad week, how will you manage? (Characters are fully human, but based on their DSMP characters. High school AU)

Word count: 4,818

(A/N): I’ve never played volleyball or watched Haikyuu before, so I’m not 100% certain how games work. Also, I probs should’ve split this into two parts, but eh.

“(Y/n) love, you look homeless in that sweater, it’s literally so fucking ugly.”

“Haha, yeah it is. I guess I just wasn’t really trying today.”

Adrian snorted, scanning your body with his cold eyes. “Today? You don’t try at all. You always look like trash.”

“More than trash, you always look like you just rolled in dog shit.” Sammy threw her head back and cackled at her own joke.

Your friends around you erupted in laughter as you four walked down the hallways of the hell that was your public high school. You awkwardly chuckled alongside them, you didn’t really find it funny, but you didn’t want to draw more attention towards yourself. 

“Seriously, (y/n), I really don’t know why we still hang out around you anymore. You really let yourself go.”

“Yeah, now that I think about it, you did gain like five pounds in the past week.”

“Really not a good look on you, love. Then again, nothing you do can make you look good anymore.”

You tried to not let their comments get to you, you really did, but sometimes their comments just rooted themselves deep into your subconscious. You didn’t try looking good anymore, you couldn’t wear anything without them criticising it. You could never win. 

“Awe,” Adrien poked your cheeks, “stop looking so sad. We’re just trying to give you advice. You really need it.”

“Yeah, (y/n). You’re so sensitive, get a grip.”

“Guys look, I think she’s gonna cry!” 

You wiped at your welling eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m not. I just got allergies.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Anyways, what are our plans for Halloween? We should totally dress up like sexy angels! I think that’d be so cool. Like, Clint’s party won’t be ready for us.”

“Oh, about that Annie…”

“God, what now (y/n)?”

“I was actually planning on spending Halloween night taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating with my brothers and dad. I won’t be able to go with you guys, I’m sorry.”

The group groaned loudly. “C’mon (y/n), you never hang out with us anymore.”

“Oh my god (y/n) you still go trick-or-treating? We’re juniors.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with my AP classes and studying for the SAT. My team captain’s really been pushing the team hard with volleyball practice. State finals are soon and we want first this year.”

“No matter how much studying you do, you’re gonna fail. You’re stupid, so why try? Just give up and hang out with uuussss.”

“Yeah (y/n),” Adrien looked at you suspiciously, “you’ve been ignoring us lately. I thought we were friends. Do you even wanna be friends anymore?”

You felt a flare of panic flare up in your gut. “I do! I-I just have so much going on right now. It’s starting to get hard to juggle everything.”

“We’re starting to think that you don’t like us anymore, we want our (y/n) back!” Sammy whined. The others agreed with her, making you feel guilty. You were ignoring them, it was selfish in your opinion. You supposed that you could skip out on taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating, there’ll be other years you could take them. 

“I guess I can take Tommy and Tubbo another year. They’d just have to go without me this year.”

They cheered, giving you praise. You beamed at that, they seemed down lately and you loved it when they’d give you compliments. They didn’t do that much, so that made their praise more special to you. You strived to get compliments.

You four went off to your separate first classes for the day. Yours was statistics, a class you’ve been struggling in lately. You didn’t know anybody in there except for your oldest brother Techno, so you tried to stick with him. Unfortunately, the teacher’s seating chart placed you both on opposite ends of the room, probably because of your last names indicating that you’re siblings. You placed your stuff down on the table and plopped down into your seat, already drained. You had a long day ahead of you; you had a major AP world history test in your next class, you had to give a presentation in your AP english class that was worth a quarter of your final grade, and you had a semifinals volleyball match that would last until late in the night. If your team won, you would be going to state finals, so it was a lot of pressure on your shoulders. You were the main setter, so you had to really focus tonight if you were going to score your team points. 

“Alright class, pull out your homework!”

Fuck, you had homework? You looked in your folder, only to see the unfinished sheet full of equations you didn’t understand staring back at you tauntingly. Mr. Mullins walked over to your desk, took one look at your blank homework, and just walked right past you. Another big fat zero in the gradebook for you, just what you needed. At least he wasn’t in the mood to berate you today. You didn’t need any more stress piled onto your shoulders. 

The lesson felt like it dragged on forever with you frantically trying to copy down the notes on the board and trying to understand the content at the same time. Overtime, he would call students up to the board. Hopefully, he would skip over you today. “Ms. Minecraft.” Goddamn it, you spoke too soon.

Your head perked up and you looked at him. “Yes sir?”

“Come up to the board and solve this.”

Gulping, you felt panic rise up in you and stood up with shaky knees. On the board was part of the newer content he was just teaching. Something that you understood only a little bit better than the rest, and that’s not saying much. You still didn’t understand the content completely. Your writing was shaky as you wrote what you thought was right on the board. Finding the answer, you circled it and looked at Mr. Mullins. He looked disappointed. 

“That’s wrong, Ms. Minecraft. Please sit down.”

You felt like your face was on fire as you saw the entire class burning holes into you with their eyes. Though they looked dead inside, as per usual with any morning class full of tired teenagers, their effects still took hold on you. You wanted to crawl into a dark hole and die. You sat back down and stared at your note packet, you couldn’t focus on the lecture anymore. Your attention was fully on your surroundings, you were hyper aware of every little whisper and bouncing leg in your peripheral vision. You could feel yourself spiraling, usually that wouldn’t happen until after your third class. Today was going to be rough. 

The loud chime of the bell startled you out of your thoughts. You shakily put your papers back into your binder and put the binder back into your backpack. Right as you were about to walk through the door, you heard Techno catch up to you. “Hey, you good?”

“Yeah Tech, I’m just peachy.”

“Are you su-”

“Technoblade. I’m fine. Now if you excuse me, I have to get to my next class. I have an important presentation I’ve gotta prepare for.”

Without giving him any room to argue, you rushed off to your english class. You had Adrian and Annie in your class. For your presentation, you were paired up with people that you hardly knew. At least they did their part in the project, you were certain you were going to die if you got paired up with Adrian and Annie again. You loved them, but they never did any part of their portion of work. They left it to you to finish at midnight the day the project was due. To be fair, they both told you they had family emergencies, so you covered for them just that once. 

You pulled out your flashcards only to have them knocked out of your hand when someone bumped into you. You quickly crouched to pick them up so you could have them in order by time class started. “Oops, sorry love.”

It was Annie. She and Adrian towered over your crouched form smirking at you. Looking back down to rearrange your cards, you murmured “it’s ok.”

“Are you ready for this presentation, I know I am.”

You smiled a little. “Actually, I think I’m going to ace this. English is my best subject.”

“Yeah (y/n), I wasn’t asking you. I was talking to Annie. Besides, you’re probably going to fail this.” Adrian scoffed. 

“Thank you for asking, Adrian,” Annie shot a pointed look at you, “at least someone cares.”

The bell rang, signifying the start of your second block. You felt like you had a lump in your throat blocking your breathing. If Adrian, one of the smartest kids in your english class, said that you were going to fail, then you probably were going to fail. That would take a huge hit on your grade, this project was worth a quarter of your final grade after all. You were zoned out for the entirety of your classmate’s presentations putting yourself into a spiral. You jumped when Mr. Todd, your teacher, called your group up to present.

You stood stiffly in the middle of your two groupmates and clutched your flashcards with clammy hands. Luckily, your part of the presentation was not first. When it came to your part, you were stuttering and tumbling over your words. You even dropped your flashcards in front of everybody, causing half the class to snicker. Your face burned as you hurried to pick them up and your other groupmate took this as a signal to continue the presentation. You still had an important point to make that was integral for the set up to your other groupmate’s part of her presentation. You stared at your flashcards for the rest of the presentation. 

When the bell rang, you made a mad dash out of the classroom. You didn’t want to talk to anybody, especially not Adrian or Annie. It was a relief that you had your lunch period at the moment. You could hide yourself in the bathroom nobody used and let your panic attack ride itself out. 

You ducked inside a stall and sat on the toilet, bringing your knees up to bury your face in them. The tears and panic you were holding in all day let itself out with explosive effects. You started to hyperventilate as you muffled your sobs with your knee. Your chest painfully clenched so you couldn’t breathe. Your limbs felt like they weighed two tons each and they were shaking intensely. You didn’t hear the end of the lunch bell ring. By the time you calmed down slightly, you were five minutes late to AP world history. 

You packed your stuff up in a hurry, power walking through the halls. You probably looked like shit, but you didn’t care, you had a class to get to and a test that you probably wouldn’t be able to finish now. You lost ten minutes of your test time. When you tried to open the closed door, you found that it was locked. You had to knock if you wanted to get in. You raised a shaking hand to knock, but the door was opened by a less-than-impressed Ms. Osborne. She ushered you to your desk and gave you your unit test. 

You couldn’t focus. The multiple choice section was usually a breeze to you, but you couldn’t comprehend any of the questions. When you could comprehend them, you couldn’t concentrate on choosing an answer. You did your best to find the correct answers, but you were almost positive that at least half of them were wrong. Your handwriting was nearly incomprehensible and your essay topic was something you didn’t study for. When you were done with half of the body paragraphs, the bell rang and you had to turn in your unfinished test. 

You had your independent online psychology course next in the library. You usually worked alone secluded in a corner deep inside the library where nobody went. You would get some solace in being alone. Maybe you’d calm down enough so that you could ride home with your brothers and not go for a long walk so you could avoid them. 

You settled down in the comfortable chair and pulled out your laptop to get started. Psychology was your favorite class. It was easy for you to understand, it didn’t have much of a workload attached to it, and it was fun to learn about. It always calmed you down reading about the intricate workings of the brain. 

By time the day was over, you got most of your psychology work done and you were on your way to the car you shared with Technoblade and Wilbur. You took out your spare keys and slumped against the window in the backseat. You were absolutely drained after your terrible day and you still felt panic swirling deep within you, waiting for the right moment to strike. 

You stretched out your legs across the seat and leaned your back against the door. For the first time that day, you felt peaceful. You still had at least fifteen minutes to yourself until your brothers would start to make your way to the car. You felt the panic subside slightly and you fully relaxed. You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off into a light sleep. You needed your energy for tonight’s match. 

The door you were leaning on swung open and you tumbled backwards smacking the back of your head against the metal frame of the car and reverse scorpioning onto the pavement. Your entire upper back and the back of your head exploded in pain and your lower back hurt slightly from having your back bent uncomfortably. You heard laughter above you as you felt tears of pain start to slip out of your eyes. Your legs swung out from their place above your face and landed on the ground with a painful thump. 

You saw three blurry figures above you laughing at your pain. You reached up with a shaky hand to wipe at your tears and saw Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. They were cackling as you shakily stood up and sat on the comfortable seats of the car. You waited patiently for them to calm down. 

Eventually, Sammy calmed down enough to explain what happened to you through chuckles. “I’m sorry (y/n), it was just too good to resist. You should’ve seen your face.”

She and the others broke back into uncontrolled laughter as they remembered your embarrassing fall. You were used to their antics, and quite frankly it felt good to make your friends laugh, even if it were at your own expense. Just as they were calming down once again, you saw Wilbur and Techno walk out the front doors of the school laughing at something the other said. Annie and Sammy heard their laughter and quickly turned around to watch them. They had massive crushes on both of your brothers, many in the school did. 

Your brothers made their way to your shared car and stopped to look at you in slight confusion. “(Y/n), were you crying? What happened?” Wilbur asked worriedly. 

“Yea-”

“Oh Wilbur, it was terrible, (y/n) fell out of the car. I don’t think she closed the door before she leaned on it.” Annie interrupted you with a faked concerned tone, a complete contradiction to her reaction before your brothers came.

Techno hastily made his way to the driver’s side door. “Well, if she’s hurt we better get going, right Wilbur?”

“Yes! We better get going, please excuse us.” He sat in the passenger seat and closed the door without hearing Sammy and Annie’s desperate attempts to stop them so they could talk to them. Your brothers thought Sammy and Annie were annoying. They absolutely hated being around them. 

Waving apologetically at your friends, you pulled yourself into the car and closed the door. Annie and Sammy looked offended that you had let Wilbur and Techno get away from them. Avoiding their eyes, you looked down at your tightly clasped hands. They were shaking slightly. 

After pulling out of the parking lot, Techno glanced at you from the rearview mirror. “You ok (y/n)?”

“Yeah, my back just hurts and I have a headache.”

“Well, do you wanna go and get some ice cream? We still have some time left before we have to pick up Tommy and Tubbo. Dad doesn’t have to know,” Wilbur asked you.

You sighed, you wanted nothing other than to take a nap before your match. “Sorry, but I need to watch what I eat today. We have semifinals tonight and I can’t have anything sugary. I just wanna go home and take a nap.”

Your brothers were quiet for the rest of the car ride until you reached your driveway. Techno twisted his body around in his seat to look at you after he put the car in park. “Did you actually fall out of the car?”

Shit, should you tell him the truth? If you did, they would almost certainly get mad at your friends. Sammy and Annie would never forgive you if you turned your brothers against them. You decided that you would take one for the team again. “Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

Techno snorted. “Well, that was stupid,” he jokingly said. “Next time you’re gonna get run over by a parked car.”

You knew that he meant that as a joke, but it still stung. Stamping your emotions down, you laughed with him and Wilbur. It was stupid of you to do, you shouldn’t have let your guard down if you weren’t at home. 

You winced as you slung your bag on your back and walked the best you could back into your house. Your upper back was killing you. You made a beeline to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet looking for some pain relief pills. You took some and shambled off to your room to take your well earned nap. You set your alarm’s setting to its loudest volume and passed out. 

You jolted up and gasped when you felt a wave of pain hit your upper back. You blearily looked at the time. You had a little under two hours before you had to get back to the school for your match. You groaned when you pulled yourself up, your head pounding with every turn. You pulled yourself out of bed and once again took some pain pills. You went downstairs to grab an apple or something to eat. Your dad was at the stove stirring something around in a pot. 

He turned to look at you with an excited smile. “You ready for your match tonight? You’re gonna kill it!” 

You only nodded halfheartedly and plopped yourself down at the table with your apple. Philza frowned at your lack of enthusiasm, but he figured that it was just because you just woke up from a nap. You’d bounce back eventually. 

“Wilbur told me that you fell out of the car? How’d you do that?”

You shrugged, wincing slightly as it moved your back slightly. “Dunno, must’ve not closed the door.”

Philza was at your side in a hurry, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Did you get hurt? Show me where it hurts.”

“My back and the back of my head.”

“Can I move your shirt so I could look?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

You felt him gently pull the neck of your t-shirt away from your body to peek at your back. You heard his breath hitch as he looked. Was it that bad? “Good god (y/n),” he breathed out.

“What, is it bad?”

“Don’t you feel how bad it is? Your entire back is bruised. I think there’s some blood too.”

“Damn.”

“First, language. Second, that’s all you have to say? Aren’t you in pain?”

“Yeah, but the pain pills are gonna kick in soon. I’ll be fine.”

“Would you be able to play tonight? I really think you should sit this one out.”

“No, I’m playing tonight Dad.”

“(Y/n),” oh no, he was using his stern dad voice. “It’s not a good idea to play tonight. You’re hurt, I’m sure they’ll understand if you sit this one out.”

You felt frustration rise up in you. “We’re in the semifinals. They need me, I’m the main setter. They’d lose without me playing.”

“(Y/n), I’m serious. You’re not playing today.”

“Dad, I am playing today. Look, I’ll talk to Coach Williams to see if I could be rotated out more often. I know she’d let me.”

He stared at you for a while before sighing. He knew there was no convincing you. “...Fine. But you better talk to Coach Williams about sitting out for a bit if your back hurts too much or I swear I’ll drag you off the court myself.”

You smiled a little at the small victory. “Thank you! I promise I’ll sit out if needed.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “If needed?”

You sighed, “when needed.”

He walked over to the pot, stirring the contents slightly. “That’s better. Dinner’s almost ready, I made some pasta.”

“It smells good, but I think I’m skipping out on it for today. I already ate this apple and if I eat any more I’ll probably hurl on the court.”

He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, “fine, but you’re eating something when we get home tonight.”

He walked off to go get your brothers and Tubbo for dinner. You could hear their booming steps racing down the stairs towards the kitchen. They raced into the kitchen and almost crashed into the back of your chair. You stood up and looked at the two excitable fifth graders. “Careful boys, don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You’re no fun (y/n),” Tommy whined.

“Sure, sorry bout that,” Tubbo beamed at you.

You chuckled, making your way upstairs to get ready for your match. You took off your clothes with great difficulty and slipped on your jersey and your spandex shorts. They were way too short for your tastes, but you couldn’t wear longer ones, they’d just get in the way. You fondly remembered how your dad flipped out when he first saw you in them, he hated them with a burning passion. He still hates how short they are.

When you were struggling with pulling your hair back into a tight, sleek ponytail, the back of your head throbbed continuously with pain. You most likely bruised your scalp. 

You slipped on your shoes that were made specifically for playing volleyball and headed downstairs. You were met with Tommy and Tubbo jumping in excitement seeing you in your uniform. They loved going to your matches, even if they would always pass out in the car after them because matches usually ended late at night. You grabbed your dad’s keys and headed to his car. Before you could lead the boys out the door, Philza’s voice stopped you.

“(Y/n), coat.”

You huffed, grabbing your coat and putting it on before tossing him his keys. You four got into the car and set out for the high school. The short drive was filled with Tommy and Tubbo asking you questions about volleyball and encouraging you. “(Y/n), you’re gonna kick their butts!”

“Yeah!” Tubbo cheered 

Despite their voices causing a spike of pain to shoot throughout your head, you laughed at their enthusiasm. It was always nice to hear your little brother and pseudo brother in the stands cheering you on, they were your and your team’s personal cheerleaders. 

Not long after you got to the school, you were stretching with your team on the gym’s floor. Your posse found their way into the stands, sitting in the front row. The away team watched your team like a hawk, analysing every single player for any weakness. It was because of them that you tried to not show any pain when you moved your back. You talked to Coach Williams before the team stretch and she was obviously sympathetic with your situation. She agreed to switching you out with the standby setter every few rotations. 

The echo of the whistles caused pain to ring in your head every time someone scored or a foul was called. Your team captain, Haley, was constantly, yet discreetly checking on you throughout the game since she was always next to you. She was the team’s main spiker after all. 

The game droned on and on before you realized that the opposing team was targeting you when they were offensive. They probably realized that you were injured a round ago. You tried your best to block every ball that was sent your way, but a few managed to slip past you when you couldn’t move fast enough. This team was good, but your team was better. 

The score during the final round was tied and the clock was on it’s last ten seconds as the ball soared your way. You dove to hit it, landing on your shoulder on the hard floor and hitting it up high enough for Haley to spike the ball down. The crowd went wild as the ball bounced off from the opposite end of the court almost simultaneously with the screeching of the referee’s whistle, signifying the end of the game and your team’s victory.

You laid on the floor in pain, you thought you must’ve pulled your tender muscles in your back and shoulder. It hurt to move it. You felt one of your teammates grab your hand to yank you up into a giant full team group hug. You yelped slightly in pain as you felt arms press against your back and hands firmly patting your bruised shoulders. You were whisked away into the locker room to change into the pajamas you brought with you. 

“(Y/n), are you alright? That was a pretty hard fall.” Haley’s soft voice asked you. You felt your heart sing in your chest. 

“Yeah Hales, I’m fine. I just pulled a few muscles.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed together, “are you sure? As your team captain and your friend, I’m worried about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You felt warm knowing that she cared about you. “I’m sure, worrywart.”

She rolled her eyes playfully and breathed out a soft laugh. “Sorry for asking, grump.” Her laugh sounded like music to your ears. 

Your phone vibrated in your pajama pocket, alerting you of your family waiting for you in the car and for you to hurry up. You sighed, “sorry Hales, I gotta go. Dad’s getting impatient.” 

She gave you a small smile. “Oh, well, tell your family I said hi! Good work on the court today, I wouldn’t ask for a different setter.”

You felt your cheeks warm up and you watched with wide eyes as she left the locker room. Your phone vibrated again, your dad was really starting to get impatient. 

You walked out of the school as fast as you could to find your dad’s car waiting for you up front. Jumping in and softly closing the passenger side door, you slumped against the window. “(Y/n),” Tommy’s tired voice slurred. “That. Was. Pog…”

You glanced back to see him and Tubbo snoring away in their seats. Your match was more exciting than usual, so that must’ve really tired them out. You chuckled, turning back around to lean against the window. You took care not to put any weight on your shoulder or back. 

“(Y/n), you were amazing out there, but why did you dive for that ball? That fall looked like it hurt.”

You hummed tiredly, “thanks Dad. I just did what I thought would win us the game. We’re going to finals!” You quietly sang. 

“Did you hurt your shoulder?”

“I actually don’t know, but I think I might’ve pulled a few muscles. Nothing too bad.”

“...I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for you tomorrow morning during your first and second blocks. I want you to get your back, shoulder, and head looked at. You looked miserable the entire match.”

You sighed, too tired to argue, “mmk.”

He chuckled before the car fell into a comfortable silence. The gentle bouncing of the car and the subtle hum of the engine was lulling you to sleep. Your eyelids were drooping by the time you pulled into your driveway. 

You drug yourself out of the car and into the house, leaving Philza with the sleeping boys. You walked straight to your room and plopped down on your bed, passing out instantly for the second time that day.

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Say it with Flour | KNJ

~summary: This had always been a bad idea. You, notorious for kitchen disasters, attending a cooking class. Maybe it could be what you needed to fix your terrible cooking skills - or maybe you could meet someone who makes it so much worse! ~pairing: namjoon x reader ~word count: 3.2k ~fluff, humour, strangers to lovers, cooking class au ~rating: g ~warnings: knives? (they’re just for cooking), jin being a shameless wingman

~a/n: hello! this is proof that I am still writing, and my first full joon fic, look at that! I wrote this for the square ‘cooking class’ over at @bangtanwritingbingo​ and hopefully I will have more entries to come for that event over the next couple of months. for anyone wondering where I have been for ages, I am still around I promise, but for a while I invested most of my writing efforts into some series I’m writing, one for jk and one for namjoon, so I have been posting less for good reason! now tho, I am nearing the end of a hellish bunch of uni work and so all being well I will be able to offer you lots more fics soon!!

This had always been a bad idea.

You had only agreed to accompany your friend Liya to this cooking class on the assumption it would be a good laugh. It was true that she wanted to take it seriously, but she didn’t care if you didn’t feel the same so long as you came with her.

Why she wanted you for moral support, you couldn’t fathom. You remembered pleading with her…

“Can’t you just go and bring back the wonderful food for me to eat afterwards?”

“Huh? No!” she had replied indignantly, “if you want some good food, you’ll have to come too.”

She had found your weakness. You cursed internally as you fumed, knowing she had got you.

“You know mine won’t be any good. I’m awful in the kitchen!”

“What better time to learn, then?”

Since she had asked you, you had warmed up to the idea, seeing how excited she was about it. This whole thing came from her wanting to take her hobby of cooking more seriously, but she had always been held back by nerves of going somewhere totally new.

You wanted her to be happy, so you allowed her to drag you here after work.

Now, though, doubt was really starting to set in again.

Inside a local culinary school, you found your way to the room where the class would take place. Already, you were intimidated. It was a bit too much like being back in school… except there were knives.

Standing with your friend, you waited as a few others gathered at the entrance. Still, the two of you stuck together, unsure how to start a conversation with any of the other attendees.

Looking around, you caught the eye of a tall man who stood nearest the door. He shot you a dimpled smile, but despite his friendly face, you hurriedly turned back to Liya after returning a weak smile. Socialising was a lot more difficult than you had expected.

Before long, the classroom door opened and the teacher stuck his head around the door.

“Hi guys, I’m sure you’re mostly here, so feel free to come in and grab a bench! I’m Kim Seokjin, I’ll be in charge today. You can call me Jin, though.”

You were startled to see him throw a wink at your group, grinning as he disappeared inside again.

Making to go in, you looked around to find your friend frozen.

“Hey, Liya, it’s okay. Let’s go, yeah?” you urged, presuming some nerves had hit her.

She turned wide eyes towards you.

“Oh my gosh…” she whispered, “did you see him?”

For a moment, you stared in disbelief. Then your head was thrown back as you scoffed in laughter.

“Hey!” she whacked your arm.

“Sorry,” you chuckled, still grinning like a maniac, “of course you have a crush already. Jeez, you really do need to get out more. Be grateful I brought you here.”

“Wait, let’s get a good spot!” she gushed, ignoring you entirely, “near the front.”

Barking another laugh, you let her pull you as she dashed inside, squeezing in front of a few people through the door in her hurry to get near to the handsome teacher.

At the front of the room, Jin was bustling around a front counter with his back to the class. As such, he missed Liya practically tripping over to the work station closest to him. However…

Looking around, you both paused.

Tentatively, Liya set her bag down and turned to you with a hesitant expression.

This was the only free bench at the front, the others already taken.

“Don’t worry, you stay here and enjoy the view,” you assured her, smirking as she turned bright red at your allusion. “I’ll find one further back. You’ll be fine.”

Nodding nervously, as if to convince herself, she agreed.

“Thanks,” she chirped as you wound away to the back of the room.

This was how you found yourself tipping out a bunch of ingredients you barely knew the name of, sceptically eyeing the equipment on the counter. Why were there so many different knives? And what the hell was that twisty thing for?

Finding the back of Liya’s head up front, you knew it was too late. You couldn’t ask her any questions, you would just have to hope for the best.

You were an absolute menace in the kitchen, your food turning into a nightmare on a regular basis. The only thing you would say you had solidly mastered was perhaps toast, and microwave meals. When you only had to press a few buttons, there was little that could go wrong.

But faced with all this professional-looking stuff, you knew you were out of your element.

One of the students was even talking with the teacher right now! They were clearly much more enthusiastic than you.

Their conversation seemed to come to an end, and Jin clapped his hands to call attention. As the other man turned around, you saw it was the guy with the dimples from earlier. You were surprised, though, when he walked all the way through the classroom, taking the empty station next to yours.

You supposed all the front spots had been taken, or he would certainly be up there.

Exchanging a smile as he passed you, you turned your attention to Jin, who was already beginning. He talked a bit about the dish, assuring that he would go over each step and cover the basics as you went along.

His idea of ‘basic’ was sure to be very different to yours, you thought.

Either way, he set you about washing and cutting your ingredients first, and you found your bench shared a sink with the one next to you, where dimple man was. Some light chatter rose as Jin left his station to drift around the class, giving out pointers as work began.

You watched him come over to Liya, who couldn’t have been more delighted. Her bright smile dazzled you from all the way over here, and she laughed along with something Jin was saying.

Sighing, you grabbed a handful of vegetables and turned to your own sink.

“Oh, sorry,” the man smiled as he shook water from his own ingredients, freeing up the sink for you.

“Thanks,” you muttered, holding your things under the running water.

Only, the next moment, you reeled back.

“Ah! I must have left it on hot!” he hurriedly apologised, “I still don’t know how these taps work.”

With a small frown, he leaned over to fiddle with the top of the tap. The basin was admittedly a bit confusing, with a lever and some random tubing like a hose. You had no idea what that could be used for.

He succeeded in making it run cold again, though, so you resumed your cleaning.

“I’m Namjoon, by the way,” he smiled across at you, “it’s good to meet you. Apart from the nearly burning your hands thing, of course.”

“It’s okay,” you laughed, and introduced yourself too.

Setting the vegetables down, you selected a knife at random and stared. It was only a pepper and some tomatoes, but Jin had shown an unnecessarily complicated way of chopping them, and you weren’t really sure how to start.

“Stuck?” Namjoon asked.

Not quite wanting to admit your level of incompetence, you replied with a sheepish smile. He beamed just as brightly in response.

“Look,” he said. And proceeded to cut up the pepper in a way you weren’t sure resembled Jin’s at all.

But he looked so proud of it, you couldn’t help but copy with an indulgent smile. Maybe it was a chef thing, they all had their own style of chopping?

“So,” you began, “when did your, um… interest in cooking start?”

At first, Namjoon’s eyes widened a fraction. Then he burst out laughing, his face screwing up adorably as he tried to hide it behind his hand.

“Sorry,” he gasped, once he had calmed down, “it’s just, I’m not really a cook. Like, at all. I’m terrible, but I’m friends with Jin, and he made me. Said it would do me good to learn how to cook.”

You stayed silent a bit too long, as his smile faded and he began to look uncomfortable.

“No way,” you gaped, “I’m the same! My friend wanted to come, but I was starting to think it was a bad idea.”

The way Namjoon’s face lit up had your heart racing a little too hard for someone you had just met.

“That’s such a relief! Now I don’t have to embarrass myself alone!”

“Hey!” you laughed loudly, “who says I’m going to embarrass myself! That’s what I’m trying to avoid.”

“Maybe you ought to pay a little less attention to Namjoon, then,” a voice cut in.

Turning, you found Jin standing at the end of your bench, looking sceptically at the mess you had made of chopping your pepper. With a huff, he looked past you to Namjoon and shook his head.

“I see you’re already making friends, well done. Just try not to lead them astray.”

“Yes, chef,” Namjoon mock saluted.

Jin rolled his eyes.

Much to your relief, Jin began to demonstrate the correct way to cut everything up using your ingredients, forcing the unfortunate Namjoon to follow along. He was making quite a mess of it nonetheless, but either he didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Eventually, Jin moved on. With your ingredients all ready, you were free to swap stories with your new friend about your worst kitchen disasters. You didn’t notice Liya turning to raise an eyebrow at you, what with how loud you were laughing.

“How did you even manage that?!” you were wheezing.

“It was clearly a weak peeler!” Namjoon tried to defend himself, but gave in when it only made you laugh louder.

“That’s impressive, to be honest,” you told him, “I usually give up on peeling and just scrub off the skin. Or buy them pre-cut.”

“Keep your voice down!” he joked, “if Jin hears you say that, he’ll have you stuck in these classes for a month.”

With a chuckle, you glanced to the front of the room, just in case Jin had heard. Instead, you saw him clasping his hands, addressing the whole room again.

“And that should get you a consistent dough, it’s simple enough. Off you go!”

Shoot, you had totally missed what he had said.

With wide eyes, you turned back to Namjoon, who wore the exact same expression.

“Any chance you heard the instructions?” you tried, already knowing the answer.

“Nope. Well, there’s only one thing for it.”

You raised an eyebrow in question. Namjoon shrugged.

“Improvise.”

“Not to rain on your parade, but when in those food horror stories did you get the idea that we could be trusted to improvise in the kitchen.”

“Believe me, I didn’t,” he grinned, turning back to his food nonetheless. “But we’re making dumplings, right? And he said something about dough, so let’s just… make that.”

Namjoon was insane. Staring dumfounded, you also looked at your ingredients.

“Yeah, sure,” you nodded sarcastically, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

At the front of the class, Jin was already introducing the next step for the rest of the class, who apparently had all created perfect dough. It was a different story with you and Namjoon in the back.

Hopeless as you both were, you had abandoned your individual attempts in order to try and make at least one decent batch together. At the very least it meant the disaster would be limited to one… theoretically.

Biting hard on your lip to hold in your laughter, you prodded at the substance in your bowl that resembled concrete more than dumpling dough.

“Shame we weren’t supposed to be making rock cakes,” Namjoon whispered, nearly succeeding in making you laugh out loud. The classroom was still unforgivingly quiet, all attention on Jin. Except yours, of course; his words sailed right over your head as you stared at the monstrosity you had made.

“We can’t use this,” you hissed.

“You’re right,” he sighed, “let’s go again. I’m sure I know what we did wrong.”

He peered closer towards the mixing bowl. Shooting him an unconvinced look, you tried to remain unphased by how close you suddenly found your faces.

“Wait,” you muttered, “we used up all the flour.”

His eyes flicked up towards you. That certainly didn’t help your heart’s situation. The grin he sent your way, gorgeous eyes creasing at the corners, absolutely stunned you.

“Don’t worry, I’ve still got some,” he offered, “first we should hide the evidence, though.”

Clearly they had never expected you to have quite so much food waste in this cooking class. The small bin at the end of the station was already full with vegetable cutoffs, so you had to try to subtly force the disastrous dumpling dough into it.

You were facing ahead, making every effort to look like you were paying attention to the class and not like you hadn’t even managed the previous step yet. This effect was suitably ruined with a sudden ripping sound and cloud of white bursting into the air.

Apparently even opening the packet of flour had been a challenge too far for Namjoon.

The entire class turned around to face you both, frozen as the scattered flour drifted down from the air around you. Your cheeks heated up as Jin’s sharp gaze fell on you.

For a moment, it was totally silent.

Then Namjoon snorted.

Unable to contain yourself, you dissolved instantly into fits of giggles, Namjoon’s loud laughter joining you despite his attempts to muffle it. Doubled over and wheezing with hilarity, you could just make out Liya through your teary eyes, staring at you with clear incredulity.

Well, it was her fault for bringing you here in the first place.

You continued to laugh into your hand as Jin instructed the class to ignore you and move on to the next step. His wearily amused tone made you think he was well used to this kind of embarrassment from Namjoon.

Still sniggering as the sound of clinking utensils and stoves turning on rose once again in the kitchen, you turned to Namjoon, wiping at your eyes.

He was clutching the countertop as he shook with mirth, face splattered with flour as was the steel surface. The sight only elicited another round of laughter, until Namjoon seemed to hurriedly shut up.

Chuckles dying down, you turned to find Jin once again behind you, hands on his hips as he gave Namjoon a withering glare.

Biting your tongue, you waited to see what he had to say. At first he didn’t speak, sadly taking in the state of your corner of the kitchen, eyes lingering on the botched dough that was still half hanging out of the food bin where you had abandoned your attempts to conceal it.

“Takeaway for you tonight then, I presume?” he joked drily.

“We honestly tried, Jin,” Namjoon pleaded, “you’ll let me have some of yours, right?”

Jin rolled his eyes.

“Just clean this up. Then maybe I can give you two a simplified version to make.”

With that, he was off to help the people who still had hope.

As you took in the state of your station after the flour explosion, your laugh was more sarcastic.

“Might want to wipe your face a little first,” you told Namjoon with a sympathetic smile.

Blinking at you, he brought a hand to his cheek. Unfortunately, that also had flour on, and he only got more on his face.

“Hey, let me,” you laughed, dusting off your own hands on a tea towel and approaching him.

He endured the cleaning, though you did try to be as gentle as possible while you brushed off his face. There were still a couple of splotches of flour when you stepped away, but it was much better than before. You felt much too flustered to brave stepping so close into his personal space again in any case.

Together you set about wiping down the counter and floor where they had fallen victim to the incident.

“I’m sorry, I got some on you as well,” Namjoon said as you swept off the last spot from the counter.

Hearing him addressing you, you turned, only to find him very close to you. His hand was outstretched, but twitched away as you faced him unexpectedly. If you weren’t mistaken, a slight flush crept over his cheeks.

“I was going for your hair,” he laughed breathily, much more quiet this time. “I can get it for you, if you don’t mind.”

Speechless, you nodded.

Gulping, you watched him raise his hand and thread it into your hair. He was being as careful as you had been earlier, his touch light as he teased your strands to rid them of the flour.

Strangely, you found your breath had been stolen from you. Namjoon wasn’t looking straight at you, face cutely concentrated on fixing your hair, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.

When he was satisfied, he pulled back fractionally. Your eyes met.

“Thanks,” you breathed.

He nodded in response, breath drifting over your face. This proximity was robbing you of sense – you could have sworn his eyes had just dipped to your lips.

“Gosh, things are really heating up.”

Startled, you stepped hurriedly away from Namjoon, coming to your senses to find Jin standing, amused, between you.

“Sorry?” Namjoon frowned.

“I came to tell you two to get cooking, but it seems you’ve got things steaming just fine,” he grinned shamelessly, “but the chemistry is supposed to be taking place inside the pan.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened, glaring at his friend. You fared little better, heat rising in your cheeks that certainly could have rivalled the ovens at the back of the room.

Ignoring the awkwardness he had created, Jin barged between you and Namjoon and grabbed the few ingredients that were still salvageable at your station, throwing them into a pan.

“This always happens,” Namjoon lowered his voice to speak into your ear as you stood back to watch Jin work, “he tells me to learn how to cook, but then he gets too impatient and makes food for me himself.”

You chuckled.

“What’s he making?”

“Probably just some snacks or something. We made quite a mess of the rest.”

You smiled, but a sudden idea stifled your laughter with nerves. Before you could back out, however, you blurted it out.

“How about we go and get dinner after this then?”

You almost didn’t dare to look around at Namjoon, but his silence had you too nervous. Looking around at him, you began to wish you hadn’t been so forward. Luckily, he got over his shock and put you out of your misery.

A grin spread over his face.

“Absolutely,” he agreed, “it will be much better if neither of us have been anywhere near the kitchen.”

Maybe this had all been a bad idea. It was true you had only agreed to Liya on the assumption it would be a good laugh, and thanks to Namjoon, it had been.

In the end, you had managed to get some good food out of tonight… even if that was entirely unrelated to the cooking class itself.

Thank you for reading! If you want more, my masterlist is here💜

Taglist: @aianloveseven​ @preciouschimine​ @un2-verse​ @rockwithwoo​ @taegularities​ 

[dadralt]

what a year friends, woo! but we’ve made it to the end. this was a better year than the last one i’d say, with me taking classes and feeling like i’ve finally found my place in the world. the last month has been more difficult but we won’t talk about that, i believe in positivity and i think 2022 will bring a lot of that. hopefully a job! and a new apartment for sure. i’m excited, for one, and i can’t wait to continue sharing it with you all.

because yes it’s you, my dear friend, who made this year so wonderful.

i want to start with a general thank you. for following me, and liking my posts, and reblogging my gifsets even when they’re ugly, and sending me asks. this blog would be dead if you didn’t keep engaging with my content. so if you’re reading this, and you’ve done even just one of the things i mentioned, know that i’m grateful and thankful ❤️

i wish to thank some very talented and wonderful mutuals, whether you write amazing fic or draw gorgeous art or create incredible gifs, i appreciate seeing your creations on my dash a whole lot 😍😍 @mersephesie @lordbelacqua @zoya-the-dragon @dazedandinked @natethegirl @jjmaybanks @hobbart-art @gwenspendragons @quellcrist @littlestsnicket @burningblake

then there’s the people i got to talk with a bit. who have brightened my day, one way or another. and hopefully we’ll talk some more next year :D i sure as hell would love to! @ivashkovadrian (daphnée darling, you are sunshine on a rainy day) @brinaglevissig (jacquelyn, you absolute angel, love hearing your thoughts on anything always, you are also most adorable) @beautifulwhensarcastic (my babe, love you always and forever) @margaritalaux-antille (kit!!! you are awesome) @untaintedtea (sam you talented sweetie) @gwynbleidd (jackie you’re absolutely amazing and so kind) @tristranthorne (camille you always crack me up) @shortof-amarble (fallon you’re the best, i appreciate you so so much) @usergeralt (annie you are most wonderful) @love-and-cubs-and-white-wolves (mandy, love your sass, never stop being you) @lilapittss (michelle i simply adore you) @reputation (leah i know we just followed each other but i love your vibe so much) @reveniemus (kali you are the sweetest and a treasure)

also my yenralt people 🐺💜, i love you for shipping these two alongside me. thanks for making the journey so fun. @rare-species @icameforyou @charlie-cutter @bastardtruths @a-court-of-tears-and-feels @ladyyennefer @cheeseydare and of course my dear ava, @fireflyxrebel-writes who’s been holding up the ship this past week but has been a trooper the whole year truly. you’re awesome babe, you’re killing it. and we’ll get the fambly we deserve.

of course this brings me to my loves ely @heytheredeann and sunny @little-spoon-napoleon i love you two so much. ely you write the most wonderful fic, i’ve told you before, i know but it’s true. sunny you truly are sunshine. i enjoy you both on my dash so much, you’re so adorable and positive and fun and it’s always a pleasure to talk to either of you.

@trissfer shelby my sweetheart, my number one triss stan, phil lover extraordinaire. we don’t talk enough babe but i always enjoy it. you’re so bubbly and nice and funny. you deserve all the femslash in the world. i love you.

@witchertrashbag trashie, i’m so incredibly grateful we’re friends now. i still admire you and your writing. you’re so damn cool babe!!!! i can’t handle it :D but you’re also so damn sweet and nice and you always listen to me. i love you so much. you’ve been there for me and i hope you know you can count on me too, if you ever need anything.

@wanderlust-t chrysa darling, you are the sweetest pea put on this earth. i simply adore you. you’re always so kind to everyone. and so positive always! it’s so refreshing. and your fics of course, don’t get me started on those. like pure poetry, stunning words. i’m such a big fan of your work. i wish you all the best in life, may you find sunshine in everyone around you.

@its-onions A, my love. screaming with you over henry has never been so fun. thank you for always listening to me. thank you for always being there. you’re so sweet and nice and generous and funny and i genuinely adore you so so much. and i will never listen to iris the same way ever again, and i love it, because it will make me think of you. i love you.

@ahh-fxck grammie my pal, my boo. i got your back and i know you got mine. and every day i get to talk to you i’m happy. you always make me remember the important things, you make me think, you make me better. you are so genuinely good and i wish you all the happiness in the world, because you deserve it. you are such a great friend, i really treasure you, i hope you know that. and i love you, so much.

and of course, last but least. my besties, my group chat crew. RJ @vxngerberg and melissa @yennefxr. i simply would not have gotten through this year so well without you two. i’m fucking crazy about you two. you make me laugh, every damn day. you listen when i need it, you’ve always been there for me. i have never met people like you, i don’t think anyone exists quite like you two. maybe it’s destiny that brought us 3 together, who knows. honestly, i don’t care. i’m just so happy i get to talk to you. if i’m feeling down i know you’ll bring me back up. also rj you’re so damn talented, the stuff you make with photoshop, and the progress you make, it’s incredible. melissa bestie, i still have your riris in my inbox so no further comment about you personally lmao. but know that i love you both so much i feel like my heart will explode. i wish we didn’t live so far away cause i feel like we’d go on the best adventures but hey, never say never. thank you for letting me into your lives. thank you for being you. thank you for everything. i love you i love you i love you i love you, clowns worms feet eggs eels aliens villains everything included 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

[mrkcore]

𝐄𝐏 𝟏: 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓 - 𝐥.𝐡𝐜

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lee donghyuck x fem!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: college!au (cs - computer science major haechan, psychology major y/n)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, slight angst

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): suggestive innuendo(s), infidelity, drinking

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

𝐚/𝐧: the first chapter of the and they were roommates! series :D send in an ask or comment here to be added to the taglist! (sorry for the delay, i have been really unproductive so uh, yeah)

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢��𝐮𝐬 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

you’ve been stuck with haechan for about a month. you’ve successfully avoided him for the majority of the time, he’s still a bit flirty, but he’s been pretty quiet too.

except for when he streams. did he mention that he was a streamer? unfortunately no, you had to find out the hard way.

“haechan, can you fucking tone it down?” you storm into his room after enduring half an hour of his screaming on a thursday night. “i have an essay due tomorrow and it’s 30 percent of my mar-”

you see a professional looking mic, webcam, and another monitor with what seems like comments flowing in constantly on the screen.

“oh…” you trail off taking in all the equipment in front of you as haechan looks up at you.

“oh hey, sorry about that, jeno and renjun were being noobs and i needed to teach them a lesson, chat knows. i’ll keep it down, sorry.” he turns back to his game in front of him, completely unbothered.

“yeah.. uh sorry for barging in, thanks.” you say quickly and dash out his room, hearing the other voices from his headset laugh.

your face is hot, and you feel so embarrassed. 

anyways, lesson learned.

a few days later, you were complaining to your friend about haechan on a zoom call–as usual.

this time, however, she needed to spill the tea about her thoughts.

“ma’am, what is this tension,” she jokes. “i can feel it from miles away.”

“hey!” you snap back. “need i remind you that i have a boyfriend? and haechan? ew no, he gets on my nerves too much for that.”

“oh right, your boyfriend.” she rolls her eyes.  “i think you need to visit him, you’re so uptight all the time, i’m gonna get wrinkles if you keep complaining to me about shit.”

“oh right, restrictions have been slightly lifted, i can probably go visit him.” you remember reading about it in the news.

“yep, go.” your friend sips on her iced coffee and you laugh.

the next day, you go through with your plan to go visit your boyfriend.

all prepped and ready and you were going to walk out the door before you hear haechan coming out his room.

“oh, good morning, i’ll be out for a bit, maybe the whole day.” you say to him.

“good morning.” he yawns. “look at you all dolled up and pretty, where you going?” he smirks as you roll your eyes.

“visiting my boyfriend,” you scowl out. “now if you’ll excuse me, i better get going.”

“oh great, hope you enjoy your time with him.” he smiles and you think he’s going to be nice for once. “don’t forget protection.”

you groan. of course he had to ruin it.

“thanks haechan.” you yell behind you as you walk out the door.

it takes around 1 hour to drive to your boyfriend’s university, and an additional 10 minutes to his apartment, and you’re giddy the whole time. 

you’ve missed human interaction. 

and no, lee haechan does not count. 

you’ve missed the warmth and fuzzy feeling of an embrace, of having someone’s arms around you, protecting you from the outside world. 

you couldn’t wait to get cuddles.

hopefully your boyfriend likes this surprise.

gleefully walking into the building, pressing in the password to his apartment complex. completely missing the creaking coming from his room, but as you entered, you hear the voice of another person, who was definitely not your boyfriend.

you stomp right up to the door, and push it open.

there’s two people in the bed, and your eyes glower at your boyfriend.

“what?” the girl screams, scrambling to cover herself.

“babe?” your boyfriend is frozen on the spot as the girl looks at him as if he just said the most bizarre thing ever.

“babe?” she seems angry now. “you said you were single? what the fuck?”

“yeah, i think he lied to you.” you say coldly. “do you have anything to confess, ‘babe’?”

“you’re a douche, what the fuck.” she gets up and gets dressed. “i’m so sorry, he told me he was available, i would literally never agree to sleep with anyone who’s taken.”

“yeah, it’s okay.” you say, kind of relieved, and the two stare are you like you’re an alien. “at least now i know what type of person i was dating.”

and you turn to walk out.

“wait, babe please.” your ex tries to run after you. “y/n, let me explain.”

“no need to, we’re over.” you turn to say. “you need a ride?” you ask the girl.

“yeah sure.” she says. “don’t call me.”  

“babe please, can we talk this out?”

you couldn’t believe it. you drove 1 hour to see him and he has the audacity to pull this shit and expect you to just easily forgive? nope, lesson learned.

pfft, and he said long distance would work. 

“no we can’t, now if you’ll excuse us, we have somewhere else to be.” you grab the girls arm and walk out the door, slamming it in front of your ex’s face before he can catch up.

“do you have any plans for the rest of today?” you ask the girl after entering your car. she shakes her head while you smile. “great, any bar or night club recommendations you have?”

“uhh, bar then nightclub?” she suggests. 

“i like the way you think.” you giggle. “i’m y/n btw.”

“yina.” she smiles back at you as you pull out of the parking lot. 

a few hours later, and way too many drinks in, you’re at a table with yina, spilling your deepest secrets about your relationship with your ex.

“can you believe he made me wash his socks?” you take a sip before continuing. “and with my hands too!”

“what? that’s disgusting!” she listens to you rant in disbelief.

“yeah, he said that his socks were precious and the washing machine was too harsh on the cotton or some crap.” you snicker as you recall the other stupid stuff he told you. “ah the shit i did for love.”

“men are trash,” yina says. “cheers to that.” and you both down the rest of what’s left of your drink.

fast forward another 2 hours, you’re wasted. absolutely wasted. 

yina held you back a little bit, but its no use. you needed this.

“y/n, it’s like 11 pm, you’re drunk, i’m barely sober, i think we should call someone to come and get us.” yina tries to reason with you while you shake your head.

finally after 10 minutes of bickering, you finally agree.

“here’s my phone, you can call anyone.” you rest your head on your folded hands after handing her your unlocked phone. “anyone but haechan.” you start to doze off. “anyone but haechan…”

“hbbhng” you jolt up, feeling the warmth of your own bed. 

how did you get back home?

groaning, you feel your headache. you feel the vomit coming up your throat as you gag.

you almost fall trying to get out of your covers.

“woah there, be careful.” haechan is suddenly barging into your room, holding onto you so you don’t fall on your face, guiding you to your bathroom.

you’re too nauseous to wonder why he’s even helping you or even bother screaming at him like usual.

he pats your back soothingly as you vomit into the toilet.

“there you go, that’s it. i’ve got you.” he reassures you.

“what are you even doing helping me?” you’ve washed up and downed some water, you’re 100% sober now.

“wow,” haechan chuckles, rolling his eyes. “after saving your ass last night, this is the thank you i get?”

“what do you mean you saved me?” you’re genuinely confused by what he means.

“this yina girl called me from your phone, telling me that you’re blacked out drunk in a nightclub at 11:32 PM, on a saturday. asking me to come and get you.” he says, matter-of-factly. “i call a cab, get to the nightclub, haul your ass out the club, drive yina back home, and then us. where during our commute back, you wake up, start crying, and when we get home, you’re bawling about how your boyfriend cheated and you were a dumbass for thinking he would change. remember now?”

you’re in shock.

yina called haechan? you remember clearly that you told her not to, this is so embarrassing. you even cried about your ex to him? oh dear lord you wanted to crawl back into your room into a deep pit and never come out. 

haechan must’ve noticed your distressed expression because his face turns softer.

“hey hey hey, sorry, that was a bit mean. you just got out of a relationship, that was really inappropriate of me and i do not blame you for wanting to relax a bit.” he tries to comfort you once again. you’re in even more shock by his words. “honestly, me driving you back home, and taking care of you was the least i could do. it would have been so mean if i just left you guys there.”

you wanted to burst out into tears. 

this is the nicest thing you’ve heard in about 6 months.

unfortunately, haechan doesn’t know that.

“oh gosh, jheez, i’m not helping aren’t i.” he’s panicked by your emotional state. “uhm, to make it up to you, i’ll watch one of those scary movies with you?”

your tears instantly are sucked back into your eyes in excitement.

“really?” you ask, just making sure.

“yep, ahaha.” he laughs nervously, but happy to see your mood lighten up.

“you free tonight?” bouncing up and down practically.

“yeah…” haechan is a bit scared. “aren’t you going a bit too fast though, princess? you jut got out of a relationship.”

you gasp and slap him in the arm.

“okay okay! that was a joke. yeah i’m free, i have an essay due, but i’ll be done by 6.” haechan says.

“sounds good!” you b-line for the kitchen, your stomach is completely empty. “see you then haechan!”

oh how haechan regrets his offer.

6 o’clock rolls by, and you choose “the shining” to watch with haechan. anticipating the terror it would bring him. 

and you were right.

every jumpscare, even the smallest sounds, haechan would screech in fright. the last straw for him was the knock on your door.

“AHHHH!” he screams, almost knocking the popcorn out of your hands.

“calm down, dude.” you say, standing up to open the door.

to the unfortunate sight of your ex.

“y/n?” he says, softly.

“what are you doing here? how did you find out where i lived?” you were very sure you never gave him your dorm address.

“your friend gave it to me,” the eye bags he has are very evident. “listen, can we talk?”

“no?” haechan suddenly butts into the conversation. “you literally cheated on her, she doesn’t owe you anything.”

“who are you? her rebound?” your ex frowns. 

“her roommate, and if you even bothered to keep up with y/n, you’d know.” haechan returns the frown.

“it’s between me and y/n, you have no business telling us what to do.” your ex is getting more aggressive now.

“that’s funny, i was the one who was called to drive her home while she was out drunk, i was the one who listened to her talk about how she regretted believing you again, i was the one who held her hair back when she was vomiting this morning from her hangover.” haechan again returns the energy. “you tried to contact her, but she blocked your number and you had to get her address from her friend. you never even cared to ask her beforehand, and now you wanna try and show up to seem like you care? bullshit. now if you’ll excuse us now, we have a movie to finish.” he slams the door in his face and haechan surprises you for the millionth time today.

your ex bangs on the door for about 3 minutes before giving up, and you guys sit in silence as the movie still plays.

“hey haechan.” you try and start.

“AHHH!” he screams again, scaring you this time.

“JHEEZ BRO I WAS TRYING TO START A CONVO, CHILL OUT.” you scream back.

“okay, i’m fine, yeah sorry, continue.” haechan pants out.

“thanks for that.” you say, genuinely. “not even joking, you didn’t have to do that.”

“well i did, because that dude was a douche. literally having the guts to come over here and try and ask for forgiveness after he cheats. unbelievable.”

“yeah.” you fiddle with your fingers anxiously.

“i like this side of you,” haechan breaks the awkwardness. “you’re usually uptight, little-miss-perfect, and cranky, so i like this raw side of you.”

“mhm, i realized that now. sorry for being such a bitch.” you admit.

“no, i honestly deserve it. but i hope we can be friends now, it would be great to have real conversations with someone, you know?” he says.

“seriously?” you hit him in the chest as he chuckles.

“i’m joking! i swear. but seriously, friends?” he asks.

“yeah, friends.” 

and that’s where it started.

© mrkcore. 2021.

[raewritez]

Enough | Sokka

based on this request: You want requests? I have an idea/request if you don't mind and are still accepting them, if not I’m sorry. Maybe “friends to lovers/teammates to lovers” where Reader joins the team from Ba Sing Se and while they’re preparing for the invasion, or beyond, Sokka and Reader fall in love, or start to fall in love? I hope that makes sense. Thanks! Your writing is all wonderful! <3

word count: 3.6k

The last thing you'd expected was for the Avatar to break into your house.

You'd been upstairs in your room when you'd heard a ruckus from down below, drawing you to your feet with nervousness and light footsteps. Who was it, burglars? You made your way down the stairs, body pressed against the wall. You heard muffled whispering.

"We can't just break into random houses, Sokka!"

"Well, what else are we supposed to do?! Do you have any better ideas?"

Silence.

"That's what I thought, Aang. Just trust the process."

You peered over the corner, catching sight of the intruders. A boy, a bit shorter than you, stood awkwardly in the corner of your living room. He was dressed in yellow and orange robes, his head decorated with a blue arrow. Huh. Beside him, pulling the curtain back cautiously to scan outside, was a boy seemingly about your age. He was tall, tan skin and dark hair, dressed in a sleeveless blue tunic. You didn't peg these guys as particular threats, so you stepped down.

"Uh, hello?"

They spun around with a yelp, assuming defensive positions. The taller boy held something in his hand - a boomerang? He narrowed his eyes at you.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded.

"Um, this is my house? Who are you?"

He lowered his arm, glancing around sheepishly. "Oh, uh, sorry. We needed to hide."

You raised an eyebrow. "Hide? Hide from who?"

The younger boy spoke up. "The Dai Li."

You furrowed your brows. "The Dai Li?" You questioned, confused. "Why would you need to hide from them? Did you, like, break the law?"

The older boy crossed his arms. "What? No!"

"Then why are you hiding?"

"Because they're after us!"

"Why would they be after you if you didn't break the law?"

"Because!" He was flailing his arms now, and you almost chuckled with amusement. "They - they're bad guys!"

You looked at him flatly. "That sounds like something a criminal would say."

He groaned. "Ugh, ok, ok. Once we know they're gone, we'll leave."

"Are you sure? I was gonna invite you for some tea and cookies," you teased. He glances back, as if seeing if you were serious, before turning back grumpily.

The younger boy scratches his head awkwardly. "Um, anyway, thanks for not kicking us out. I'm Aang."

You chuckle. "Yeah...no problem. I'm Y/n." You aren't quite sure why you're having a conversation with the guys who just broke into your house, but they seem nice enough. The older one's a little grouchy, but for some reason you feel safe.

Aang smiles brightly. "Nice to meet you. This is Sokka," he says, nudging his shoulder.

Sokka glances back at you. "Hey." You offer him a wave.

"So...why are you hiding in my house?"

Aang glances at Sokka, and it seems like a silent argument passes between them. Sokka shakes his head, Aang gives him an imploring look, and Sokka glares. Then he throws his hands up, mumbles a "Fine", and Aang turns back to you with a grin.

"Well, you see, I'm the Avatar," Your eyes grow wide. "And we're trying to get some important information to the Earth King. But the Dai Li don't want us to, so they're kinda chasing us."

"You're the Avatar?" You breathe. He nods cheerfully. "Wait - so, why are the Dai Li chasing you? Shouldn't they be helping?"

"Yeah, they should," Sokka says. "But they decided to, you know, not."

You're confused. The Dai Li are the highest level of protection for the people of Ba Sing Se. Why wouldn't they help the Avatar? You look around the room, spotting the closet near the door. An idea pops into your head.

"I can help." They both turn to you, looking skeptical. "I mean I can help you get out. Without being noticed."

They look at each other, hold their gaze, then turn to you and nod.

///

"I look ridiculous."

You stifle a laugh, taking in Sokka's appearance. "I think you look great. And it'll help you get by unnoticed, so that's what matters."

He's dressed in your father's trench coat, a heavy, brown beast of a thing that's so long it pools at his ankles. He's also sporting a dashing top-hat; the brim so wide it effectively shelters his face. He glares.

Aang comes bouncing in, dressed in a hooded cape that provides coverage for his tattoo. He stops short when he sees Sokka, doubling over in laughter. "Oh, you look great, Sokka."

Sokka groans, slumping over. "Let's just get out of here."

You lead them out the front door, scanning the road for any sign of threats. You step out, the boys following in tow, and walk as confidently as you can past the agents lining the street. Eventually, you successfully make it out of the middle ring. Sokka immediately sheds his disguise.

"Well, here you go," you say, looking around. Although only one ring above you, the Upper Ring is much nicer than you're used to. "Good luck with the Earth King."

Aang's eyes grow wide. "Wait! You should...you should come with us!"

You tilt your head. "Come with you where?"

"Back to our place! You could meet our friends!" He nudges Sokka, who appears disinterested. "Right, Sokka?"

Sokka's eyes snap to yours. "Oh, uh, sure. I guess."

You're about to politely decline, but Aang is staring at you so hopefully that you can't turn him down. You smile softly. "Sure, Aang."

"Awesome! Let's go."

You're led through the cobblestone pathways, eyes trailing after ornate carriages and towering buildings. Soon, you reach their house. The home of the Avatar. Sokka walks up and turns the knob, jumping back in surprise. In front of him stands a girl, not much younger than you, with her hands on her hips and her eyes bright with anger.

"Where have you been?!" She demands, dragging him inside by his collar. "We've been worried sick! I mean, you didn't even leave a note, didn't say anything-"

"We're sorry, Katara," Aang intervenes, hands raised in peaceful greeting. "We got caught up."

It's then that her eyes fall on you, gaze softening into uncertainty. She looks at Sokka expectantly.

"Oh!" He exclaims, stepping back and gesturing towards you. "This is Y/n. She helped us get away from the Dai Li."

The girl, Katara as she'd been called, offered you a slight smile of gratitude. "Thank you for helping my idiot brother."

You chuckled, grinning at the look of betrayal Sokka gave the girl. "It was no problem."

She nodded, extending her arm. "Do you want to come in?"

You glanced towards Aang, who was smiling excitedly. "Oh, yeah, sure."

You stepped inside, feeling a bit awkward. You didn't really understand why Aang wanted you to come so badly, but it was a kind gesture nonetheless. You scanned the interior; emerald walls adorned with gold plating that was probably more expensive than your whole apartment. You fidgeted your fingers, standing by while Katara and Sokka bickered about responsibility. A slam startled you out of your thoughts.

"Who's this?" A girl stepped out of the - hole? Yeah, hole, she'd just kicked a hole in the wall. Katara paused her lecture.

"Toph, this is Y/n. She helped Sokka and Aang with the Dai Li."

"Cool." She yawned, walking past you and plopping on the couch.

"We need to get to the Earth King," Sokka said, assuming a demeanor of focus and determination. "If the Dai Li aren't going to help us get to him, we'll have to do it ourselves." He briefly explained his plan, something about breaking into the fancy party that was happening later that night. They came up with roles, with guidelines for what each person should do, working together like a well-oiled machine. You felt out of place, you didn't know what your purpose was here. Aang turned to you, smiling softly.

"Y/n, you in?"

You stared. You couldn't comprehend the reason this boy had so much faith in you, the reason these kids were so willing to let you in on their scheme after just meeting you less than an hour ago. You didn't understand why you trusted them, either. You smiled.

"I'm in."

///

That was your first mistake.

When you'd agreed to break into an Earth Kingdom party with the Avatar, you didn't think you'd end up having to flee your home. You sat upon Appa's back, knees pulled to your chest as Ba Sing Se grew smaller. Sokka was steering, and the rest had their heads tucked into their hands. Except for Aang, who was lying unconscious next to Katara.

You'd remained in the city with Katara as the rest of the group separated, happy to spend some time with your newfound friend. It was then that things got messy; you found out the Fire Nation had infiltrated the government, the local tea-boy was actually a banished prince, and you found yourself in the crystal catacombs as a battle went on around you. You'd been there with Zuko and Katara, and you weren't sure exactly what'd gone down between them but it was obviously something serious, and you'd been there as he joined his sister - Azula. She was pretty scary.

You fought the best you could, your unpracticed earth-bending not doing much damage against the Dai Li agents, before Aang was struck by Azula's lightning. Now, you sat atop his sky-bison, mind racing and body numb from the shock of it all. You were in way over your head.

The five of you met up with Sokka and Katara's dad after dropping off the Earth King, because, you know, he was just casually there, too, boarding a Fire Nation ship as a means of disguise. Sokka introduced you to his father, Hakoda, who welcomed you with a warm smile and a firm handshake.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/n. Sokka's told me a lot about you. You two must really get along well," he said when Sokka was out of ear reach, voice laced with mirth. You flushed when you registered what he was implying; the mischief gleaming in his eyes. You frantically tried to put a sentence together.

"Oh, we're not - he doesn't...I mean we do, but not like-" He cut you off with a chuckle and a friendly pat to your shoulder.

"I'm just teasing. Come on, let's join the others."

You sat with your friends and the Water Tribesmen aboard the steely deck, huddling with Toph and Sokka for warmth. Katara went downstairs to heal Aang, who had yet to wake. Your meals mainly consisted of rice as it was too risky to stop and buy more supplies. You were still dressed in your Earth Kingdom clothes; green-tinted pants and a tunic, feet clad in worn-down boots. Not ideal for posing as a Fire Nation soldier.

You were still in shock, you supposed, at how quickly things changed and how fiercely your life was ripped from you. I mean, just a few days ago you were a normal kid living in the middle ring of Ba Sing Se, where nothing remotely exciting ever happened. Then, the Avatar and his friend had broken into your house and now everything was different. You weren't upset, it was just a lot to process. You were worried for Aang and a bit overwhelmed at the reality that seemed to be your new friends' normal. So when everyone else returned to their rooms for sleep, you made your way to the overlook.

The moon beamed down over the sea - ivory light caressing the waves and kissing the surface. You breathed deeply, inhaling the cool night air that smelled of salt-water and a freedom you'd never experienced. You sat there, slightly chilly from the cold, when a warm presence took place by your side.

You glanced up, seeing Sokka's skin glowing under the starlight. Woah, had he always been this pretty? It was probably just the moon...that and your sleep deprivation. Yeah, that was it.

"What're you doing up?" He questioned, eyes cast out to the horizon. His hair was loose from its usual ponytail - wolf-tail, as he'd passionately pointed out to you days earlier - the dark locks flowing freely about his face. You tore your eyes away, following his stare.

"Just couldn't sleep," you glanced over. "You?"

He sighed, leaning against the metal. "Me neither. Just worried."

You turned to face him, face softening into concern. "About what?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "About Aang. About the Earth Kingdom...just...everything."

You moved closer, resting your forearms against the edge of the ship. He pressed his shoulder against yours.

"I get it. I am, too. Everything that's happening is just...crazy. There's no way I could've even imagined it."

Sokka tilted his head towards you, blue eyes glimmering with compassion and softness. "Yeah...how are you doing? I haven't really asked, I mean, this must be kinda shocking for you."

You snorted, nodding your head. "Well, yeah. But it's ok. I'm not the one who has it worst right now."

"Sure, but you can still talk about it. You can talk to me...if you want."

You smiled up at him, his face shadowed by the abyss of the night. "Thanks."

He offered you a grin before staring up at the sky. "You know, that's my first girlfriend," he said, pointing at the moon.

"The moon?" He nodded. "That's...rough."

///

It was finally here. The day of Black Sun.

You'd be lying if you said you felt totally prepared, but with some rigorous earth bending lessons from Toph and sparring with Sokka, you felt more confident in your abilities.

A finger poked your cheek. "Hey, are you listening?"

You glanced at Sokka's teasing grin, scratching the back of your neck sheepishly. "Uh...yes?"

"Really," he said, moving to stand in front of you. "What did I say?"

"Something about...food?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "It's ok, I'll tell you later." He looked behind him, taking in the sight of the preparing fighters and looming submarines. He took your hand in his. "Are you ready for this?"

You sigh, squeezing his fingers between your own. "Ready as I'll ever be."

He smiles down at you, and the look in his eyes is pure adoration. He reaches to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "You know, I'm glad I broke into your house."

You snort, swatting his hand away. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks a lot, nerd."

He chuckles. "Hey, I know you're glad, too. Otherwise, you never would've met me and would've been miserable and bored your whole life."

You laugh, but it's probably true. You and Sokka had grown much closer over the past weeks, days spent in playful conversation and evening strolls, in play-wrestling and heads rested on shoulders. You were the one he came to when his mind was troubled, when his energy was too spent to conjure any jokes. Yeah, you were glad, too.

You were called into the submarines - Sokka's invention, something you were unfathomably proud of - and off you went. Into the Fire Nation. Your arrival went mostly smoothly, disregarding the few punctures in the submarine walls, and you ran out of the carrier with the earth at your fingertips. Aang had flown off to fight the Fire Lord, and it was up to the rest of you to deal with everyone else. Your heart pumped loudly, blood rushing in your ears and adrenaline flowing in your veins. You raised your arms, summoning the ground upwards to knock out a few soldiers.

"Y/n!"

You turned around just in time to see Katara swoop down on Appa, Sokka and Hakoda climbing up with her. "Come on!" she yelled. "We're going to take out the soldier's battlements."

You nodded, running towards the bison and pulling yourself atop the saddle with help from Sokka. Appa lifts off, reaching between the battlements.

"Katara and I will take the one on the right," Hakoda said, his voice one of a true commander. "Sokka and Y/n, the left. Let's go."

You climb the battlement, hoisting yourself inside through the window before scanning the room. Pointed outwards is a sort of cannon, aimed perfectly towards the group of fire benders that were advancing towards your friends. You step forward, trying to figure out the mechanics while Sokka climbs in. "Oh-ho," he says, taking note of the projection of the cannon. "This thing is just begging to be fired."

You nodded, toying with the controls. Sokka stepped behind you. "Here, I'll show you."

He placed his palm over your hand, guiding it to where it needed to be. From his pocket he pulled a match - where did that come from, anyway? - and nudged it between your fingers. "Light it up, Sunshine."

You place the tip to the ignition, Sokka aiming the cannon. He pulls you back against him, arms wound tightly around your waist, and you cover your ears. The canon booms, sending out a flurry of smoke. You rush forward, fearful of the damage you might have just inflicted, breathing out when you see that it only landed between the soldiers and your friends. It didn't hit them, something you were a bit grateful for, but it allowed the fighters to evade the onslaught. Sokka chuckled in your ear.

"Not bad, not bad."

"You did all the work."

"That's not true! You were vital."

You shake your head, fighting off a grin. "Ok, we should probably get rid of this thing now."

"Agreed."

You climb back out the window, jumping onto the ground with a thud. Breathing deeply, you concentrated your mind on the earth that lay below the battlement, and with a flick of your wrist, it crumbled. From the cliffside it fell, effectively ridding you of one other thing to worry about.

Sokka let out a low whistle. "Impressive."

You turned to him, out of breath. He stepped closer, brows knitted in slight concern as he lifted your chin with his knuckles. "Hey, you ok?"

You nodded, swallowing and trying to rewatch your breath. "Yeah, still a little new to this."

His thumb stroked your cheek before he moved his arm, placing it over your shoulders. "Come on, just stay with me."

You did, gladly.

///

So...things didn't exactly go as planned.

It turned out that the Fire Lord knew all along about the invasion, and Aang never had the chance to fight him. You'd come face-to-face with Azula again, something that made your blood boil. You'd had to leave - leaving the adults behind while the kids climbed aboard Appa's saddle. You were all exhausted, slumped over and falling to your knees when you finally reached the Western Air Temple.

You tried to mull your sadness; that guilty feeling that it was you who should've been left behind instead. You knew everyone was hurting - some in ways you couldn't really fathom. Aang felt like he had failed - again - and he went to bed that night with a half-hearted side hug and tired eyes. Toph felt weak, something she hated more than anything in the world. And Sokka and Katara...they'd lost their dad again.

So when you saw Sokka on the mountainside, head held in hands, you felt that he was more important. You plopped down next to him, his eyes snapping up and softening when they laid on you. No words were spoken; they didn't need to be. Instead, he sighed, pressing his cheek against your shoulder. You ran your fingers through his hair, soothing him with your touch. You only halted when he laced your fingers with his own, pulling your hand to his lap and tracing patterns across your skin.

"It's not your fault, Sokka."

He nodded against you, but you heard his sniff. You straightened up, his head begrudgingly lifting from its place against you before you cupped his face with your palm. "It's not," you implored, desperate for him to stop feeling so down on himself. "None of us could've predicted that they knew. And with Azula...she knew what she was doing. None of this is because of you."

He glanced away, blue eyes brimming with the tears he'd fought so hard to keep at bay. He dipped his head in silent acceptance, nuzzling against the warmth of your palm. You smiled sadly.

"It's not over, Sokka. There's still hope, now more than ever. And I know we'll figure it out."

He raised his gaze, and it seemed like his soul was carried in his stare. Slowly, enough so that you thought you imagined it, his eyes drifted down to your lips. He leaned in slowly, bringing his calloused hand to brush back your hair. You were frozen, as if one wrong move would shatter you from this dream. His palm was warm against your cheek, and his nose bumped your own. Your eyes met his, close enough together that it was a bit funny to look at, and he offered you a silent question. You answered with your lips against his.

He breathed against you, fingers carding through your hair. His lips were warm and oh, so soft, and they moved against yours with ease. You wound your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. He was warm, and he was familiar, and he was safe. You pulled apart when your lungs ached for air, peeling your eyes open with effort. He was looking at you, and you were looking at him, and suddenly a grin broke out across his face. He laughed breathily, nudging his head into the crook of your neck. You laughed with him, holding him tight. You sat there together for who knows how long, melted in each other's embrace under the light of the moon. He pressed soft kisses against your neck and whispered thanks into your ears. You responded with a peck to his tanned cheeks. You were right, he knew. It wasn't over. There was time left, and there was hope. Wrapped in your arms, he was sure of that.

[interact-if]

Day 8 of the interviews! Introducing the lovely Silvia 💙

Silvia, author of Echoes

Latino Heritage Month Featured Author

What do you remember?

You wake up in a strange house, your mind a haze of confusion. You need  answers, and to find them, you must explore. But you don’t have much time, and there is more than one mystery waiting for you.

Can you find the answers you need? Can you uncover the house’s secrets, and your own?

Echoes Demo | Read more [here]

Tags: mystery, horror

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: So, tell us a little bit about the projects you’re working on!

My main project at the moment is Echoes, and I would describe it mainly as a mystery with a dash of horror. The main character wakes up in an unknown house with no memory of anything—how they got there, who they are. It’s up to the player to explore the house and find answers, though the answers they find might end up being different depending on what they do.The premise itself is quite simple and that’s on purpose—Echoes is kind of my way of dipping my toes into this medium, figuring out the mechanics and seeing how much I can do with it.

There are a few things I’m trying to achieve, though, leaning into an eerie sort of atmosphere. It’s (hopefully) got this kind of oppressive, overwhelming feeling that comes with not knowing, that comes when little things are just off enough that they’re unsettling but, at the same time, you question your perception of them. 

And it’s also a story about choosing what you want to know, and what you do with that knowledge. You might not be able to learn everything about everything in one go, or you might choose to refuse certain knowledge. You might also get to the end and decide not knowing would have been the better choice (or you might not). I think if I were to point to two main sources of inspiration for it that will hopefully give people an idea of the vibe I’m going for, then Mark Z. Danielewski’s novel House of Leaves and the video game The Stanley Parable are the big ones.

I also have a secondary project that is in the very early, brainstorming/planning stage right now, just a preliminary idea. It doesn’t have a title yet, but it’s a fantasy/romance story and far more driven by character interactions; the basic premise can be summarized as “soulmates but deconstructed”, because that’s a trope that I rarely see done the way I like.

Q2: What excites you most about using interactive fiction? What are some of the biggest challenges?

God, I love the variation. As a reader/player, I love going back to a game or story and seeing how different choices affect the outcome of things, and I love being able to do that as a writer as well. I like messing with the reader, too—I think that will become evident in Echoes—and interactive fiction has this quality where you have the expectations of a regular novel (plus the expectations of the genre) but there is absolutely nothing constraining you to them, you can do whatever you want. So that’s extremely exciting. I also really enjoy learning about the coding aspect of it, and honestly Echoes came to life as a coding experiment first, a story second.

In terms of challenges, I’m a very analytical thinker, and I think in details first. So, for me, a lot of that comes in that I usually think “oh, that would be a cool mechanic to implement” or “I wonder how I could add this specific interaction” and then I have to follow that train of thought back to how that fits into a story. Echoes is a little bit of that; the initial concept went through a few iterations until I settled on what it is right now (and it’s still evolving).

Insecurity is also a hurdle, as I think is the case for most people with any creative project. I think there are a few conventions in the IF scene in particular that people (both authors and readers) have internalized as rules, as the kind of thing you should do with your story because it’s what the community at large expects. To be candid for a moment, there is a part of me that desperately wants to play into that.

I think we all crave recognition in some form, and what easier way to get it? So it’s a constant push and pull of… will people hate this thing, will people simply ignore it, should I be doing something else? Do I want to be doing something else? Do I want to be doing this? But we move forward.

Q3: What has been something in your project you’ve had to do a weird amount of research for?

Libraries and filing systems. I won’t say why because it’s spoilers at the moment, but… yeah.

Q4: Which of your characters is most like you? How?

Echoes is interesting to me in this sense because it’s definitely a solitary experience for the player and the main character. The player character goes through the journey alone, and they are very much a set character rather than someone the reader can customize to their heart’s content—though the extent to which that is true only becomes clear later on.

I do have a couple of characters in my other project that definitely have more than a few traits I’ve lifted from myself—you won’t know them yet (for a while, probably), but there is a character whose name is Vila, a perfectionistic mage that I deeply relate to.

Q5: Does your heritage influence your characters as you create them? (How? Why or why not?)

I think, for me, it mostly influences the themes I like to write about. It’s not always intentional, but there are certain things that are very much recurring in my writing and for my characters: permanence and transience, belonging, the experience of leaving people and places behind.

Characters who deal with that sort of thing from all sorts of angles. I’m an immigrant; I’ve had to relocate several times, with all the uprooting that comes with that, and I’ve seen the experience happen over and over again in people around me. 

While I have never written explicitly about that experience, the consciousness of it permeates nearly everything I write. Echoes touches on that from a different angle, in an almost metaphorical way (though that wasn’t really the intent of it). The character I mentioned before, Vila, has a lot of that in them as well.

Another thing is that I am always, always thinking about language. I’m very intentional about it, because I deal with language and code-switching and the reality of being a non-native speaker of my main language, daily. I’ve honestly grown to think of my being a non-native speaker of English as a positive, a sort of added value when it comes to my writing, and I hope to convey that feeling to others too.

Q6: What is something you love to see in interactive fiction?

Mechanically? Playing around with the interface and how the story is presented to the reader, definitely. I think text-based interactive fiction is in a very privileged position in terms of how immersed the reader/player can become in the narrative—both in terms of character identification and in terms of not being constrained by the format in the way a physical/traditional book would be.

So I truly adore anything that integrates gameplay elements into the story and serves to heighten that immersion. I’m fascinated by the idea of having the reader directly experience (at least some of) what the character experiences; from little things like fake choices to convey the inevitability of an outcome, to glitching text, to anything that involves you as the player in a bigger capacity than just a reader. I just think it’s fun.

Mechanics aside, it’s wonderful to see how much interactive fiction can feel like a way to experience stories that just wouldn’t get told at all in more massive media. People, authors have the chance to incorporate their own experiences in the stories they’re telling and share that with others.

Q7: Any advice to give?

I do always feel a little weird giving advice, but let’s push through that feeling. If you’re writing, or thinking about writing, not just IF but for anything that has a dedicated community—I think taking a moment to self-reflect and figure out what you’re doing for yourself and what (if anything) you’re doing because you feel it’s expected of you can only be beneficial.

I do have something, though, specifically for writers who are non-native speakers of English: you don’t have to write like a native speaker. You really, really don’t. It’s so easy to feel insecure about it, I know that, but please believe me when I say we have a kind of perspective that adds to, not detracts from, our use of the language. Native speakers wouldn’t be able to do what we do, and that’s something to be proud of.

[red1culous]

Oh part 1

Part 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7

Standing in front of that imposing building you felt your resolve falter slightly. It looked as though nothing had changed in years. Even the grove of trees that lined the driveway, tall and graceful, seemed to be frozen in time.

One foot in front of the other, you coax yourself. 

You suck in a laboured breath and walk into the large courtyard stopping once again as you take in your surroundings. You had hoped to be able to come and go without notice but the gravel covering the courtyard was doing a great job in announcing your arrival. 

This is new, you think to yourself slightly amused at your naivety thinking things would have stood still just because you left.

You hadn’t been back in over a decade after that little incident and if anyone had told you you would be standing where you were right now, you would have laughed in their faces before smacking them across it. 

You walk through a smaller sylvan courtyard of blooming orange trees. In its centre you see a fish pond. Smiling you look into it and search for the red and gold koi you had put there when you built the pond as a birthday present for Tony. It swims up to the surface as if it recognises you and if it weren’t for the boxes you were lugging about you might have even bent down to poke at its mouth.

For a split second you consider turning around and walking, no, running away. Screw the freshly baked muffins that were precariously balanced on you. You could just head back to the shop and sell them off at half price. You didn’t need the huge commission that the Avengers had agreed to pay for them. No you definitely didn’t need it…

…you also definitely did not need your business partner chewing off your ear about passing off said commission. 

Think of all the rich people eating your food? you can hear her clawing voice bounce about in your head. 

In truth you knew that the Avengers could easily afford a better baker. The best pastry chefs this side of the globe would happily saw off their left foot to be able to cater for them. But Pepper rings your mobile phone, claiming she meant to actually dial the shop, to place an order…a significantly large one…one she knew you would not be able to resist.

“Shit…” you mumble under your breath seeing the cause of your stress marching towards you a huge smile on her face.

“Is that how you greet an old friend?” Pepper says holding onto your upper arms and leaning in to place air kisses on your cheeks.

“No of course not…it’s just…umm…” you stutter as your heart thumps so hard it rattles its ribcage.

“I know…it’s a little weird being back” she says hands still holding you in place as if she knew you were about to bolt right out of there.

You shrug chuckling a little. “It’s stupid isn’t it?” you adopt a wide smile which had always been effective when dealing with difficult customers.

“Don’t give me that look” she swipes at your chin, “and it’s not stupid either. Just so you know, we’re all on your side.” She adds giving you a sympathetic look and you calm slightly at her words. 

“Thanks Pep.”

“Ok you head in. I’ll meet you inside in a bit, you don’t mind do you? Tony ordered a grand piano and it’s just arrived…” she trails off.

“Sure, I know my way around” you say smiling as she squeezes your arms before letting you go. Of course you knew your way around. After all, this had been your home too for over 5 years. 

5 years of bliss with her. 

You mentally chide yourself. Nope, not gonna go back there. 

As you climb the white marbled steps that led to the main door of the mansion you steal a glance at the silent looming windows glinting in the early morning light. You hesitate a little seeing a shadow pass quickly across one of them. 

Shit. 

Shaking your head, yet again, you finally reach the large oak doors. The bright and zesty scent of your lemon muffins waft into the air and as you are about to ring the doorbell the solid doors open revealing a tanned and muscled man in a shirt way too small for his body.

“STEVEN!” you shout whisper as his face splits into a wide grin.

“Y/N! Wh-what are you doing here?” he almost engulfs you in a hug stopping at the very last moment realising your arms were occupied.

“I-I…umm, muffins?” you return his grin looking down at your packages.

His eyes widen a little before taking some of the boxes from you. He balances 3 with ease in one hand as he pulls you inside. “No I mean I knew we had ordered from you…,” he says walking with you towards the kitchen, “…but I thought you said you were going to send a runner or something.”

“Well I was but our regular guy called in sick” you say gently placing the boxes onto the kitchen island.

“Well isn’t that unfortunate” he eyes you winking when you catch his gaze.

You roll your eyes at him. “No Steve, it’s the very opposite of what you mean.”

“Oh come on Y/N,” he shuffles up beside you to bump your shoulder, “it’s been so long.”

“It has...but hey! I get to see you again!” you bump his shoulder back and he pretends like it hurts him. “Ok so these need to be consumed within 3 days…”

“Woah woah woah now…” he cuts you off, “…you’re talking like you’re about to leave.”

He gives you a sad pouting face. His crisply parted hair makes him look like a choirboy albeit a very well built one. You almost feel sorry for him. 

“Steve you know I don’t belong here” you say fingering the hem of your shirt.

Your answer seems to baffle him. He straightens up and stares at you for a moment narrowing his eyes slightly. “I’m skipping my morning run just to hang out with you, so you can at least spend some time with me.”

“Steve…” you protest before he cuts you off again.

He raises a hand in your face. “Not hearing any of it” he says grabbing yours and leading you out of the kitchen, “…we’re going to take a walk and you’re going to meet some of your family.” 

You knew there was no use arguing with him. The death grip he had on you meant that you couldn’t even try to make a dash for it. “Steve if she…” you add and he cuts you off. Third one in a row. This was getting ridiculous.

“Shh!” and that was final. He leads you into the giant library where that vapid painting by Albert Ryder still hung on the wall. You hated that massive eye sore and always wandered what Tony liked about it. You’d always pegged him for the colourful extravagant type and this painting was just so out of character.

“Sam! Look who’s here?” Steve’s voice bellows out interrupting your thoughts. Your eyes trail up the curving mahogany spiral stairs that Steve is looking at and onto another floor of bookcases that were bathed in sunlight pouring in through a round skylight on the ceiling. 

“OMG Y/N?!” Sam almost shrieks as he bounds down the steps at a dangerous pace to collect you in a massive bear hug. “What are you doing here?!” he adds still crushing you in his arms.

“I came with the cupcakes…” you giggle as he picks you up and twirls you around. “Th-They brought me as their plus one.”

He puts you down to really look at you as if committing you to memory. A large smile sits on his face. “I see the sass is still there?”

“It never really left, big guy” you raise an eyebrow smirking as he hugs you one more time. 

“Pleaseee tell me you’re here for the party?” he groans wrapping an arm around your shoulders looking at you hopefully. “Parties here have been so sad since you’ve been gone.”

You hum about to answer as out of nowhere two slender arms wrap around you. It knocks the wind out of you and you instinctively hug back letting the smell of cinnamon and spice invade your senses. “Wanda!” you yelp.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming” she squeals smacking you across the arm.

You giggle at her pout. “I didn’t know I was coming, malyshka.”

She grins at your use of the word. “Ok let’s go” she says to a chorus of groans. 

“Excuse me! You are not taking her any where!” Sam blurts out grabbing your free hand.

“Sorry guys but I found her first” Steve adds standing in front of you and placing an authoritative hand on your shoulder his fingernails biting into the flesh there. 

“Guys…” you cough nervously, “how about we take a walk…together” you say quietly and sigh in relief as everyone starts smiling and pestering you with questions again. 

I guess nothing’s really changed after all.

---

Tagging: @thewidowintheweb   @natasharomanoffismywife  @imnotasuperhero  @cybeleceto  @silverwing2522  @thelastavenger-3000  @peggycarter-steverogers  @rooskaya-yelena  @blackwidowromonoff  @lesbian-x-blackwidow  @nowthisisliving27   @izalesbean  @aaron-despair  @marvelfansince08love  @rileigh519   @wannabe-fic-reader  @hcartbyheart  @marvel-randomness  @thewitchandtheassassin  @username23345  @xixxiixx  @rebeliz777  @summergeezburr  @frostedfavesmain  @higherfurther-romanova​ @sapphicluxanna​

[mypoisonedvine]

Getting In Tune | Chris Evans x reader fluff

summary: taking house calls as a piano tuner doesn’t usually mean meeting hot guys… mostly just old ladies who offer you lemonade, which is great and all, but did not prepare you for an appointment to tune chris evans’ full grand.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: swearing, dirty jokes about pianos, allusions to nsfw things?? vaguely?, mostly just fluff and flirting and awkwardness

Checking that the address on your worksheet matched the one on the door in front of you, you reviewed the nature of the appointment as your boss had written out for you: 

Customer: Christopher Evans

Appointment type: Warranty tuning and check-up

Arrival time: 10 a.m. 

You checked your watch and saw that it was 9:58, but hopefully that wouldn’t bother him too much.  Leaning forward, you knocked on the door and waited.  You could hear a dog barking inside, running up to the other side of the door as someone unlocked the bolt and cracked it open, poking his head out while he held the dog back with his leg.

He seemed a little surprised to see you standing there, made even more apparent by the fact that he was obviously wearing pajamas— specifically, a baggy tank top and gingham flannel pants.  A few tattoos were visible on his arms and collarbones, though you tried not to stare at them or anything.

“Did you not know you had an appointment today?” you asked him.  When he didn’t answer, you tried to give a bit more of a prompting.  “I’m here from Boston Steinway…?”

“Right, right,” he agreed, “uh, let me put the dog out, and… put on a shirt…”

“Good idea,” you suggested, “I’ll be here!” 

He smiled at you one more time before shutting the door again, his footsteps shuffling away as you waited for his return.  Thankfully it was a nice day out so you weren’t too cold in your work uniform (yes, you felt like a total dork having to wear a polo with a nametag on it, but such is the life of a piano tuner).  When you heard the dog run into the backyard, and the sound of Chris coming back to open the door, you took a moment to straighten yourself in hopes of looking like you’d been waiting patiently.

“Come in please,” he offered as he opened the door one more time, wearing a navy sweater and jeans now (and a NASA ball cap, for whatever reason) and stepping aside to invite you in.

“I hope I didn’t scare you too much,” you smiled as you stepped past him, letting him shut the door behind you, “a lot of people forget when I’m supposed to show up, trust me.”  You shuddered as you remembered those times you caught people in a lot worse than pajamas.

“No, I knew somebody was coming today, I just… wasn’t expecting…” he trailed off.

“A girl?” you finished for him with a smirk.

“I… yeah, I guess I wasn’t expecting a girl,” he laughed, looking a little embarrassed.

"Well, piano tuning is a real boy's club," you joked.  

"Is it?" he asked sincerely.

"Um, no, not particularly."

"Oh."

After an awkward moment passed while you cringed internally at your failed joke, he finally guided you across the house to where the piano was; you set your toolbag down beside it, stepping back to admire the instrument.  “It’s gorgeous,” you told him.

“Oh, thanks,” he smiled a little.  “Yeah, she’s a beaut.”

“How long have you been playing?” you asked.  “Or are you one of those people who keeps it mostly for decoration.”

“Decoration?” he repeated incredulously.  “Do people do that?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “more often than not I end up doing cosmetic repairs instead of internal ones because families are basically using this as the most expensive object possible to put framed family photos on.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed, “I mean, I’m sure I’m not using this thing the way it deserves, cause I’m still not very good at it but… yeah, at least I play it a few times a week.”

“Good, it deserves that,” you agreed.  “Mind if I…?”

“Oh, go ahead,” he prompted, stepping back and motioning for you to touch the piano.  You didn’t sit down, just leaning over to do a quick scale up and back down.  "Anyways, I think it's mostly fine but those higher notes are getting kinda squeaky…" he mumbled.

"Right,” you noted, messing around with the keys near the top to check what he’d said, “well, they do that, especially out here with these cold winters making the strings tighten up.  Should be fixable."

“Great,” he smiled.

“Alright, pretty girl, let’s take a look at your guts,” you grinned, groaning a bit as you lifted the heavy lid to see the strings inside.  "It's in great shape,” you observed aloud, “this can't be more than a few years old."

"Yeah, I got it pretty recently actually.  It's never been tuned before."

"Oh, this is its first time?" you smirked, leaning in to whisper to the strings: "don't worry, I'll be gentle."

He blushed a little as he laughed, making you pretty sure your joke hadn't gone too far.

“You, uh, don’t have to be around for this part,” you informed him.  “I mean, unless you want to, but it’ll just be me messing around in here for a few hours.

“No, I’ll give you some space,” he decided, “just let me know if you need anything.  Do you want, like, water or something?”

“I’m fine, but thanks,” you dismissed, “just continue as if I wasn’t here.”

“Oh, you don’t wanna see that,” he disagreed, looking like he regretted saying it as soon as he finished his sentence.  You felt your face warm and hoped he just meant that he’d be eating cheetos out of the bag in his underwear and not anything more… mature.  

As he awkwardly shuffled away, you opened your toolbox and got to work.  Your first task was to get a pitch reader so you could figure out how well-tuned each string was— you set that on the soundboard and got to work testing keys and reading the little digital display of your device.  Once that told you how much work each key needed, it was easy to just put your tuning hammer on one pin at a time, loosening or tightening until the pitch was just right.  You couldn’t just start at one side and tune all the way up to the other, oh no, there was a very specific ideal tuning order that you’d memorized by now: first the middle strings of the octaves from C3 to C5, then the one of each of the unison strings in the double bass section, then the middle strings from C5 to C8, then the lower single bass strings, then every left string of all the unisons from C3 to C8, then the rest of the double bass section, and finally all the right strings from C3 to C8.

Easy peasy, right?

It actually sort of would be, if you hadn’t gotten stuck on the unison bass string of E flat 3, your tuning hammer suddenly unable to turn even when you tried to brace yourself against the piano for some leverage.

"Um, Mr. Evans?" you called out.

"Yup!" he answered, swinging out from the entryway instantly— he must have been waiting just outside, which made you feel a little like you were being spied on.  

"Would you maybe come over here and use your manly-man strength on this?"

"My what now?" he laughed, walking towards you.

"You know," you explained by flexing your biceps and making a sort of serious face; your charades version of what a muscular man looked like, apparently.

"Oh, I see," he nodded, "my—" and he repeated the charade, except it made your face warm and your eyes all but bulge out of your head.  That was him jokingly flexing?!  What did he look like when he was actually trying to show his muscles?

You tore yourself from that train of thought as he leaned over the edge of the piano, gripping the tuning hammer you'd left on the pin there.

"This one?" he asked.

"Yeah, just give it a little nudge counter-clockwise, please."

He did it like it was no trouble at all.

"You could've at least pretended it was difficult," you rolled your eyes.

"No, you loosened it up for me," he winked.  WINKED.  Was he trying to kill you or something?  "Chris is fine," he said abruptly.

Chris is fine indeed, your brain supplied instantly.  "I'm sorry?" you choked out aloud instead.

"You can call me Chris, I mean," he explained.  "You called me Mr. Evans before."

"Oh, right," you nodded.  "Chris.  Thanks for your help with that, Chris."

"Sure thing," he smiled.

Just as the conversation began to lull, you could hear the dog whining and scratching at the back door, and you felt so guilty that he had been left outside.  “You can let the dog back in, you know,” you suggested, “I don’t mind.”

“I shouldn’t,” he shook his head, “he’ll jump all over you and stuff…”

“No, really, it’s fine, I love dogs,” you assured him.

“Alright, just prepare yourself,” he chuckled a little as he slipped over to the back door to let the dog in.  Running past his owner instantly and straight to you, you knelt down to let it lick your face as you laughed.

“Hi puppy!” you greeted.  “Oh, thank you for the kisses, it’s nice to meet you!”  He calmed down a bit when you scratched behind his ears, wiggling and putting his paws up on your knees.  “What’s his name?” you asked, turning your attention to Chris who had his arms crossed and a prideful smile on his face.

“Dodger,” he informed you with a nod.

“Aw, hi Dodger,” you cooed at the pup, “I’d sit here and pet you all day, but your dad’s not paying me to play with you— apparently.”

Chris laughed a bit as you stood up, and Dodger actually took it pretty well, dashing to curl up on the nearest couch as you got back to work on the piano.  

“I’m just about halfway done,” you informed him as you started to move on to the next string, occasionally plucking the string to test that the pitch was right.

“I’ve never heard a piano plucked before,” he observed, leaning in to watch you work.

“Yeah, probably better to just stick to hitting the keys,” you smirked.

“Psh, anybody can do that,” he scoffed, “you could invent a whole new genre of music!”

"I'll leave the musical experimentation to you," you decided, "and I'll stay on this side of the action board."

"See, I didn't even know that was a part of the piano," he admitted.

"And that's why you're on that side."

You two chatted while you worked— he asked some questions about you, you asked some questions about him, classic small talk sort of stuff.  He managed to keep it interesting, though, and keep you laughing throughout the whole conversation.  It was significantly more fun than you usually had during house calls like this, and instead of distracting you it actually seemed to help you keep your focus.  It was easier to talk to him when you could keep your eyes on the strings anyways: looking right at him was sort of overwhelming.

With the last string adjusted, you slipped the tuning hammer into your back pocket and dusted off your hands as you stepped back to admire your work.

"That's it?" he asked as he stood up from the couch, noticing the signs of completion.

"It is if it sounds good!" you smiled.  "Go ahead, take it for a spin," you suggested.  "Play something and tell me if it sounds how you want."

"Okay," he nodded, slipping around the bench and sliding onto it.  He took a breath before he placed his hands on the keys, but then suddenly stopped and set them back on his lap with a sigh as he turned to you.  "Um, it's a little weird with you watching me."

"Oh, are you not used to performance?"

"Not outside of my family and friends and stuff, no."

"I don't really have to be here for this part, as long as you're happy with it then that's fine," you shrugged, "but you know, I wanna be able to fix any issues while I'm still here—"

"No, it’s not a big deal," he shook his head quickly, "I should get over myself.  I guess it's just scary cause you've probably heard people a lot better than me play…"

"Don't worry about that," you laughed, "just play something, really, I won't judge."

He spun back to face the keys, placing his hands on them— for a second you wondered if he struggled to hit just one key at a time with those thick fingers, but you pushed that thought away quickly.

As he started to play, you found yourself focusing on the music more than the sound of the keys like you should've been.  He was good, actually, although you could hear the hesitance in the way he played.  He didn't rush as much as most people did, though; he was savoring the piece, one note at a time, and you let your eyes fall shut as he continued to play.

You broke from your trance when he suddenly stopped, repeating the phrase he'd just finished and stopping on the same note.

"Does this one sound kinda… off to you?" he asked.

"Um," you paused, "play it again?"

He poked the key with one finger a few times, and you frowned.  "I can't really tell." You stepped forward and leaned over his shoulder, caging his body in accidentally as your arms wrapped around his shoulders to fiddle with the keys in front of him.  You rested your knee on the bench beside his legs, not even realizing that it was a massive invasion of his personal space until you were already in it.

He moved his hands out of the way so you could repeat the phrase, and although you didn't hear anything wrong, you felt the key sticking.

"Oh," you mumbled to yourself, "it's the key, not the string."

"Can you fix it?" he asked looking up at you.

"Yeah, I—" you stopped in the middle of your word as you looked back at him because his face was really close, so close that his bright blue eyes were burning right through you; so close that you completely lost your train of thought.  "I can fix anything," you finished softly.

"Great," he whispered back, eyes seeming to glance down to your lips quickly before moving back up to meet your gaze.

You cleared your throat as you stepped back, giving him space again as you nervously crossed your arms.  "It's probably just something stuck under there or whatever, but I can order a replacement key if not."

"Right," he agreed with a nod, sliding to the side of the bench to give you room to fiddle with it.  You grabbed your smaller toolkit and sat beside him, starting with your flashlight to see if there was anything hiding underneath there.

Moving to peer behind the action frame, you realized it was a problem with the hammer hitting the string— or, more specifically, with the mechanism that kept the hammer balanced.  All you had to do was reach in with a long screwdriver and shift some parts around, and it seemed to be back in working order.

“Play it again?” you requested, and he slid back to the middle and started the piece over.  He grinned when he reached the part he’d stopped at before, flying through the phrase without stopping.

“Hey!  You fixed it!” he beamed.

“I’m a genius,” you shrugged, smirking a little.  He stopped playing and you found yourself a little disappointed by that, unexpectedly.  “Any other musical ailments I can magically cure for you today?”

“Unless you can make me a better sight reader, that’ll be all,” he smiled, standing up from the bench.

“Ah, if I could do that, I’d be using that power on myself.”

He shrugged; "Fair enough."

"Well, I'll leave you to it then," you announced as you put the last of your tools away and picked up your bag.  "Hope I didn't disrupt your day too much."

"You did, actually— in a good way," he grinned.  "I definitely learned a lot more than I was going to just watching TV and drinking beer."

You followed him back to the front door, which he opened for you.  "You can always give us a call if you need anything.  Um, anything piano-related, that is.  Tell the dog I said goodbye, okay?"

Chris smiled a little, softer than his normal expression.  "I'll be sure he gets the message."

As you got back in your car, you took a minute to just catch your breath for the first time since you'd gotten here.  Trying to be funny and cute and charming when all you wanna do is stutter and gawk and melt is exhausting!  As enjoyable as it was, in a certain sense, you were relieved at the idea of returning to your routine— which typically did not include super hot dudes chatting you up at work.

//

“This must be a mistake,” you shook your head as you showed the work order form to your boss, “I was at this address two weeks ago, the piano’s in perfect condition.”

“Well, he has an unlimited warranty, so either something happened since you were there last, or you fucked something up when you were there last, or he’s just determined to get his money’s worth out of us,” she explained without looking up from her computer.

You sighed and left, heading back to the same address and hoping you weren’t about to get chewed out for somehow ruining Chris’ like-new piano.

Knocking on the door, you found yourself chewing your lip as you waited for him to answer the door.  You were a little surprised when he answered in a button-up and slacks— entirely opposite to pajamas, although you sort of missed that get-up if you were being honest.

“Hey,” he greeted with a grin, stepping back to motion for you to come inside.

“Hi,” you responded awkwardly as you stepped past him.  “Is... everything alright with the piano?  I didn’t damage it, did I?”

He cleared his throat as he shut the door behind you, the size of the hallway forcing the two of you to stand slightly closer together than you would’ve personally preferred; it was hard to focus with him so close, sometimes.  “No, no, it’s not that,” he answered, “the piano’s fine, I just…” he stammered a little, starting over.  “Uh, there was something I wanted to ask you about last time, and I called the Steinway store but I couldn’t figure out how to call you specifically, so I just had to make a new tuning appointment.”

You furrowed your brow with confusion, not sure why someone else on the phone couldn’t answer whatever question he had, but decided to let him go through with his thought.  “What did you wanna ask me?”

“Uh, I just wanted to ask you… out,” he finished plainly.

You paused as you processed that.  “Out?”

“Like, I was wondering if you’d wanna… go out, with me.”

You hoped your face didn’t give away all of your shock, but at the same time, you figured it probably did.

He winced as you continued to stare at him in silence.  “I’m kind of out on a limb here,” he reminded you.

“Right, I’m sorry,” you shook your head, “um, I guess I’m just sort of surprised because you’re, like… hot, and stuff.”

“And stuff?”

“Yeah, like… nice…” you explained.

“Hot and nice?” he laughed.  “Slow down, you’ll give me an ego.”

You laughed, too, and less nervously than you expected.  Feeling the rare urge to be spontaneous, you scratched your neck as you prepared to propose an idea.  “Listen, so, this might be crazy but... I have another appointment today, at the Symphony Hall— it’s a final tune-up on the pianos and harps before this massive concerto thing and they always let me stay to watch the performance afterwards.  If you came with me, I could get you in for free.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, you probably have better things to do today—”

“I don’t,” he refuted.

“And if you just wanted to, like, get lunch some time then that would be great, I just thought I might as well invite you to hear the chamber orchestra from the best seat in the house,” you shrugged.

“The best seat?” he questioned incredulously.  “And where is that?”

“The rafters,” you laughed.

And that was how you and Chris ended up sitting on the steel catwalk suspended on the ceiling of the Boston Symphony Hall, dangling your feet over the edge as the sounds of the concerto echoed out from the stage, over the silent audience and, finally, up to you two.

The music was incredible, if a little quiet from where you were listening, and so soothing that you felt compelled to close your eyes and focus on the sound.  You were partial to the piano, as always, but the violins and cellos in harmony made your chest warm unexpectedly.  Or maybe that was from the feeling of Chris’ gaze on you, as you opened your eyes to find him looking at your face rather than the performance below.  

“What are you looking at me for?” you asked him with a nervous laugh.

“For fun,” he shrugged.

“Doesn’t seem very exciting,” you scoffed, looking back to the stage.

“Oh, it’s exciting,” he mumbled his reply as he returned his gaze to the performance as well.  

Your cheeks burned when you heard that, in spite of the fact that it was actually a bit drafty in the auditorium.  Even though your nerves were buzzing with anxiety, a rush of bravery struck you and suddenly you were leaning your head onto his shoulder.  Just the warmth of him through his shirt— hell, even the smell of his cologne— somehow managed to relax you and energize you simultaneously.  His hand gingerly slipping around your waist was even better.

After this many years of tuning pianos, it felt like you were getting yourself in tune for the first time.

[iamdeku]

Positions: Prohero!Deku x Reader

I’ve been working on this little drabble for a while, haha. I just wanted to write something really cute and domestic. I hope you guys like this!

Warnings: nudity (non-sexual), mentions of kids/pregnancy

Dating a pro-hero could be taxing, to say the least. That was what everyone had told you when you and Izuku had first gotten together. They had warned you of the unpredictable hours, the nightmares, the trauma. They had said he would be physically unavailable at best, emotionally unavailable at worst. You had ignored all of that, though, and every day you were glad you did.

Dating Izuku had never been anything but a joy, a privilege even. He was one of the kindest souls you had ever met. His work only seemed to strengthen that side of him, accenting his willingness to help others, always with a smile on his face. He never made you feel second best to anything or anyone. In fact, you often felt like he did more for you than you did for him, which was what brought you here.

You’re pulling out all the stops tonight, spinning around your kitchen in your pretty pink over the knee socks that always made you glide across the floor, one of Izuku’s baby blue hoodies tossed over your head and falling far enough to be a dress, negating any need for pants. You had chicken katsu going on the stove, and you were making some tea to go with it. In the other room, you had made the bed with freshly washed sheets, still a little warm from the dryer, and an array of bath salts and bubble baths set up for selection.

Your entire body tenses when you hear the jangle of the keys in the lock, rising up onto your tiptoes in your excitement. You slip at least twice as you dash for the door and the man on his way through it, and you should have bit the dust once except for the arms wrapping around you now.

“Baby, you’re slipping all over the place. You know you can’t run in these.” His laughter hits your ear warm and sweet, body close from the way he’s holding you up. “What’s got you in such a hurry? We have all night.”

You pull back to look at him, smile spreading across your face. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

You hold his face between your hands, used to how fragile they looked compared to his broad strength. You brush your thumb across his cheekbone, where a bruise is painted, red at the center but blossoming out to a deep purple, nearly black. You lean forward and press a gentle kiss to it.

“You work too hard.” You sigh, letting your eyes close and lashes flutter over his stained skin. “Do you want dinner or a bath first?”

“Whatever you want.” The answer is immediate, instinctive.

You had seen this coming. You had prepared for it, in fact.

“Nope. Tonight is about you. That’s what I want, and I’m not letting you argue with me. C’mon, we should get you changed out of your costume.”

He lets you drag him back to the bedroom, hands laced together with his. Slowly, you peel him out of his hero costume, the movements routine and your hands gentle as you unveil new bruises. Most of the blood and gunk on him seems to be from other people, hopefully the villains, but you don’t ask. He’ll tell you if he wants to, and he does when he sees the way you pause on a patch of his uniform stuck to his skin from dried blood.

“It was a good night,” he reassures you. “We got them, and everybody is okay.”

“Good.” You nod. “You hungry?”

He smiles down at you. You’ve gently pushed him back onto the bed now that you’ve gotten the top half of his suit off, your navy blue sheets contrasting the green of his hair as he lays back to stretch while you finish undressing him.

“Yeah. It smells good. Chicken katsu?” He leans forward, resting his cheek in his palm.

“Yeah.” You pull his boots off his feet, then shuck of the rest of the costume.

You stand up, knees flushed from the coldness of the hardwood floor, already reaching for his favorite pair of sweats and an old, soft All Might shirt. You let him dress himself as you take his costume to the laundry room, although the damage done to it is likely beyond you. Straight to support team, then.

When you turn to leave the room, his body is stretched across the doorframe, filling it up. You take a moment to let yourself be breathless at the sight of him. It’s not that you forget how beautiful he is, but more that nothing could possibly prepare you for the sight of him, especially not just casually out of nowhere like this. 

“Dinner?” He asks.

“Thought you might want that before a bath.” 

That was a lie. You knew he would want dinner before a bath when you heard his stomach growl about 5 minutes after he walked in the door. Not that he would admit to that, silly boy.

You move to walk past him into the kitchen, but he catches you around the waist, nose skimming across the skin of your neck as he leans forward. He looks you up and down, bright green eyes soaking you up.

“You look so pretty,” he mumbles.

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, leaning into his touch. He brushes his lips against your jaw, just beneath your ear.

“My pretty girl.” He pulls you flush against him, pushing a strand of your hair back. “Gonna drive me crazy.”

“I know what you’re doing,” you breathe, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“Oh? What am I doing?”

He plays innocent, but you see the look in his eyes.

“You’re trying to distract me from taking care of you. Not going to happen, pretty boy.”

You slip out of his embrace, throwing a teasing glance his way over your shoulder as you head towards the kitchen, swaying your hips perhaps a little more than was strictly necessary.

“Maybe I just think you look really good in my clothes,” he suggests, following you. “Hard to resist.”

You hum mindlessly, a grin playing on your lips as you reach up into the cabinets to pull out an All Might themed bowl for him and a more traditional choice for yourself. You put rice in both of the bowls, doubling the portions for him, and serve the chicken.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” Izuku grows more serious from where he sits at your kitchen table, his chair scuffed and comfortable with age, face lit up and golden in the warmth of your kitchen.

“Well, somebody has to feed my big strong hero, and it better not be any other girl,” you respond lightheartedly.

“Wouldn’t want any other girl. Not when I have the best one in the world right here.”

You can’t help but blush as you start in on the food. Deku eats like a starving man, and he has for as long as you’ve known him, except when he’s upset. It gives you almost no time to admire him as you try to keep up, but you still try to get as much of him as you can, always afraid that he’s too good to be true. Worried of the moment he’ll disappear on you.

“I can feel you watching.” He says when he’s finished.

You just roll your eyes, still eating despite your best efforts. He’s called you out on it a million times before. You stopped being embarrassed a long time ago.

You two sit in silence until you finish, but it’s comfortable, the sort of silence that settles down when one of you is tired and the other is pleasantly content, or when maybe you’re both a little bit of each. He speaks up when you take the dishes to place them in the sink.

“You know, you would make a good Mom.” His eyes are glazed over in thought, obviously somewhere else.

“You think so?” You asked quietly, frozen at the kitchen sink.

“Yeah. We would have pretty babies too,” he muses.

“Yeah?” You turn around, leaning your back against the sink.

“Uh huh. Can see it now.” A distant smile pulls the corners of his mouth up. “Our little babies calling you Mommy.”

You cross the kitchen table, settling down into his lap. Your arms loop effortlessly over his broad shoulders, so used to the motion.

“Tell me about it,” you say.

“Wanna buy you a house,” he says, burying his face in the crook of your neck in the way he always does when he’s tired down to his bones. “And a ring. A ring as pretty as you are. I want to have so many babies with you. Have all these kids running around the house, and I want them to all look just as pretty as their Mommy.”

“That sounds perfect.” You run your fingers through his soft curls, body intertwined so closely with his you feel his lashes against your shoulder when he blinks sharply.

“Did you say something about a bath earlier, or did I imagine that?” He asks, voice confused with his exhaustion.

You giggle. “I did actually mention a bath.”

“That sounds nice.” 

He stands, picking you up even now, as tired as he is.

“Izuku!” You squeal. “Put me down!”

“Nope, sorry princess. We’re gonna go take a bath.”

He’s all business as he carries you to the bathroom, plopping you down on the edge of the tub. You beat him to the faucet though, determined to keep your hold on the night and keep taking care of him.

“What bath salts do you want?”

He sits down on the floor beside you, back leaning against the tub and cheek pressed to your thigh as he sighs deeply, eyes fluttering shut.

“Whatever you use. Wanna smell like you. You smell good.”

You follow his instructions, setting the bath up with all of your favorites as he peppers the outside of your thigh with kisses. Your hands never shake, the movements practiced from all the years you’ve spent making baths for yourself and later, yourself and Izuku. When you’re finished, you both slide into the bathtub.

You take your time, washing his hair gently. You’re just as careful with the washcloth, paying attention to every part of his body, making sure not to miss a speck of blood or a smudge of dirt. You’re dedicated to your work and unconcerned with your own cleanliness, though you do briefly wash up so you don’t get the sheets dirty.

You wrap him and yourself up in towels when you get out, the darkened water swirling down your drain.

“Somebody was messy today.”

“Sorry.” Izuku blushes, knowing you’ll have to clean the tub later.

“Don’t be. I’m proud of you. You work so hard to keep people safe.”

He smiles at you, and you can see in his eyes he’s woozy from tiredness. You pull him forward into you, holding him in your arms even as you drag him back into bed with you. He manages to crawl into his sweats before crawling under the covers, and you don’t bother to do anything but pop his sweater back on.

He rolls into you, already half asleep but still wrapping you up in his arms. “I meant all of that earlier, you know?”

“Hmm?” you ask, confused.

“I really do want to have a family with you. A home.” He presses a tired kiss to your temple.

“I know. I want that too, ‘Zuku,” you mumble, his tiredness contagious.

“I love you.” He wraps you up tighter if that’s at all possible. “To the moon. And to Saturn. And Pluto.”

You giggle a little, eyelids falling closed. “Love you too. To the moon and to Saturn and to Pluto.”

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.2

Getting back to your little one story cottage, you can only manage to rush in and run about in a mad dash as you try to accomplish getting ready for work and getting something to eat. Running through choices in your head as you change and freshen up, nothing sounds good. There's not much time since your shift starts at nine and to make it to the store you need to leave by eight twenty. You got home at eight fifteen, and while Nate, your manager, has never seemed to give a fuck what you did at work you're still in your probationary period and would like to keep the easiest job you've ever had.

It's a really simple gig, seeing as the store you work at is actually a front for some illegal activity. The variety of crime you aren't sure of, but you are aware there's no way you guys do no business and yet they can afford to pay thirty dollars an hour. Thankfully just keeping your mouth shut and being nice to little Jo, the owner's daughter, is enough to keep you in the cushiest job in the world. The store's front is a regular old book store, all the books are real, the registers work, you're able to sell books and you've run to the bank to do the weekly deposits twice for Book & Nook. The front is very legitimate or it would be if the amount of customers ever equaled the sales made.

Again you don't ask questions, because for thirty dollars an hour you get to goof off for a couple hours a day, plus you get a bonus when you watch little Jo at the shop. She's a real sweet eleven year old, she's got tourettes and took a shine to you the first time she saw you tic. While you both might not suffer the same disorder she finds the common ground nice, like it's not just her. It's not even hard to watch her or enjoy her company, she'll come bouncing in with her excited chittering and hands clapping spilling all the latest gossip that comes with being in middle school. And boy is there a lot of gossip.

It's really nice seeing that Jo has friends at school and is even considered a “popular” kid. You remember how tough school was because no one understood you and teachers never cared enough about your personality to bring up the fact that it was clear to most faculty members that you had Autism. You excelled academically so what did it matter if you got picked on for oversharing information or for finishing assignments the minute they were handed to you. As bittersweet as the parallels are you're so glad Jo doesn't have to go through that. Never would have thought a southern school could be so accepting, much less a middle school at that.

Tearing through the kitchen you honestly can't find anything that you want to eat right now. And even after a long night of hiking/dissociating you don't think you're that peckish at all. Figuring it's best to at least take something to quell any future nausea you grab a Pedialyte Pop from the freezer. As fast as you entered your home you left, and not before ensuring twice that the door was locked and secured. While living on the outskirts of town saves you from many potential robberies, and worse salesmen, there's still the chance of some lunatic with an ax hiding out in a closet to murder you. Better safe now than sorry later.

Pulling into park behind the shop right at nine is a blessing. You run into the shop to clock in blurting out a quick 'Morning' to Nate, who was carrying a particularly large box, as you passed by him. In a flash you were back at your car retrieving your newly prized deer skull. Lungs burning a bit from the all out sprint you just did you took a little extra time to close the trunk and lock your car up to catch your breath, and avoid any light headiness you might get from the empty stomach workout. Eager to share the wonders of death with your best work friends, and by that you mean Nate your manager...and only other coworker, you rush back into the building.

The shop was quiet as usual as you made your way through the door though you were in the back room where only employees could roam you had the slightest suspicion that the front of shop was just the same. It's there you find Nate, now lugging a medium sized box around to a side table. He did this a lot you suspect some type of smuggling but hey plausible deniability and all those legal matters. The taller dark haired man sees you and just as he's about to wave you over, notices your prize with a raised brow.

“The fuck d'you bring in the store?” he doesn't seem amused by whatever it is he thinks you're up to. “Deer skull.” Lifting it up in one hand and pointing at it, “Found this guy on my hike last night...or rather this morning actually.”

“YN, we talked about this, you said you'd get some sleep last night. No adventures remember.” he's only two years older than you and yet he acts as if he's ten years. He must be an old soul, or enjoys the role of care giver...or you're making him go gray prematurely, anything's possible.

“Eh, I remember saying I'd 'try' and get sleep.” for someone who's body is running on fumes your cheekiness is astronomical, “operative word being 'try', remember.”

It's a long silence as Nate decides if he wants to deal with your bullshit at this moment. After a minute or so he concedes leaning back on the table behind him. “Let's hear it.” and you perk up immediately.

“Cool, so I was walking along the tree line and spotted him, tried to find more but seems there's only one piece. Judging by the size of his antlers I'd say he was nearly fully grown. Now my plan is to do whatever treatments taxidermists do to bones and,” you continue to word vomit at the tired twenty-six year old in front of you, about the joys and wonders of taxidermy and the likely hood of ever finding a skull so nicely preserved.

“I can do that in here right?” even though it's been phrased as a question, you aren't asking permission, you're just being polite and letting Nate know the storage room will house your creepy deer skull antics for today...maybe the week you need to find a taxidermist book to figure out what you need to do.

Nate gives up and leaves with his box of new books to let you have full run of the back to do your weird vulture culture shit. He figures he's just too old to understand the new obsessions with the macabre. He hopes his cousin won't take to shit like this, the kid's weird enough as it is, no need to put another target on her back. Nate sets off to take down the Harry Potter sets in favor of this new comic series little Jo wanted.

Already taking his silence as the go ahead you place your found skull on the table and rush off into the store front to find a book on taxidermy and hopefully more specifically about bones. The set up and organization of the store reminds you a lot of the scene in Brendan Fraser's The Mummy 1997 where Evie is on the ladder and somehow causes all the book shelves to fall like dominoes. So unsafe, yet all book stores and libraries seem to have this set up. With the tall shelves it makes it difficult to accurately get a read on the spines. You don't even know what section taxidermy actually falls under, education maybe?

“Nate, where do you think a book on taxidermy would be?” you called out as you passed by him.

“...hobby?” that didn't sound right but you'd give it a shot anyway.

This should be fun, the hobby section was so disorganized and it took up nearly half the store too, Book & Nook had everything from fishing, to crochet, cooking, the art of film making, hell even had a cryptid hunting book a book that you may have to look into a bit later. You closed your eyes and let your intuition guide you, when you looked up you saw a thin black...vine, no whisp? It undulates in less than rhythmic movements nearly like a snake but it has no head, and not unlike a tentacle but without suckers. It's another hallucination so you were keen to ignore it until it stretched past your head, giving you an added auditory hallucination where you swore you could hear wind rushing past your ears, it swirled around you until it flew to the shelf and tapped on a book. Cautiously you walked over to it, it's never good to play into these delusions. Once you got close enough the black shape was gone but on the shelf was a creme colored paper back titled “Manual of Taxidermy: Complete Guide of Preserving Birds and Mammals.”

Walking to Nate with the book in your hands you asked him to read it and make sure you weren't having an episode and making everything up right now. You'd have to try harder to go to sleep tonight if that were the case.

“Oh you found your book huh?” he said looking down at the title.

Well this is getting weird fast, but you nod nonetheless. Might as well thank the weird hallucination gift right. Leaving him to do whatever it is he plans on doing the rest of the day, you go to the back. And just as the book instructs you set to cleaning the skull by setting it in some water and changing it as many times as the water runs murky. The book is quiet helpful to a beginner like yourself but it does seem a bit outdated from the bits of information you know from taxidermists blogs and vulture culture posts on the internet. Reading it in between water changes is a great way to pass the time though, not like you guys get any real customers anyways.

The bell rings as the front door opens and closes alerting you to someone's arrival on your third water change. Needing a little bit of mental stimulation you walk out into the front where Big Jo and Little Jo are talking to Nate. Little Jo sees you and skitters away from her father to rush you, she stops about a foot away and holds her arms wide open. She's a hugger but upon meeting you had never even thought people could be touch adverse so keeping in mind that you might not want to be touched she's learned to invite you into hugs and it's your choice to allow it or not. Placing a hand on your bicep you give a squeeze, checking your tolerance you find the thought bearable. Placing your arms outstretched at your sides Jo rushes your torso for her hug.

After she nearly body slammed you into the wall, and  let her death grip go she was off on a tangent about so many things. Her excited rapid blinking tic, one she developed after meeting you, triggering your own.

“Ok so you remember how last week I told you that Jessie Kinsleton said that Micheal Saleisa told Gigi B, not Gigi S. that Meghan,” you had no clue the lives of eleven year olds had gotten so complex, from the gossip you heard from Jo it seemed that the school's sixth graders were plotting for a war with an ice cream parlor up the street. No clue why, maybe just to fuck the system, kids are weird, preteens are weirder...and angry.

But you nod to Jo listening to her every word, and trying to calm your eyelids so you could actually open your eyes. After being told the sequence of events that would happen in the Tween Armageddon, something to do with Marco Salvator ordering three dozen donuts and a flock of geese, your eyes finally gained their ability to see back. Black whisps, much like the one from earlier, wandered all around your vision, it looked like a  dark smoke had settled eye level within the shop and was snaking through the isles.

Catching the movement of your eyes Jo looked around the shop too. Seeing nothing she turned back to you concerned, “Hey it's okay, nothin's there.”

Hearing the drop in volume of the normally chatty tween, Big Jo and Nate pause their conversation to turn their attention to you and follow you're gaze.

“Kid, you ain't sleepin' again?” Big Jo can already gauge by the bags under your eyes but he's a polite man so he feels the need to ask rather than state his assumptions.

“Day 6.” You answer simply, ever since you've started at Book & Nook the whole Cowell family became acutely aware of many of your disorders. By their record your longest time spent awake was ten days, you however adamantly say that you were an hour's mark away from ten full days so the longest you've been up is nine days in a row. And those are just the cases they know of since you've moved to Kepler.

Big Jo shook his head as a stern father would, which he is, “I have half the mind to send you home to rest.”

“That won't work.” you really don't mean to sound so coarse but it's so irritating having to go over this at least once a week.

“What about those gummy things Dia got you?”

“Long term that kind of stuff has no effect, sure it'll make me drowsie for an hour or two but even if it made me sleep one night I can't use it all the time. And before you ask the same questions again, caffeine has no real effect on me so limiting my intake will do nothing and weed doesn't do a thing for me either.” you state plainly, monotone as you present facts that everyone in the room already knows.

Looking at the stern face of Big Jo's and the exasperated face of Nate you continue, “I know it must be frustrating for you to not be able to help, but I'm content living like this. I like my late night adventures and when I do sleep it's really pleasant.”you threw in a smile for added comfort.

“Kid tha's not the point, there's somethin' wrong with you, medically I mean.” he's pinching the bridge of his nose, probably counting to ten to calm himself from raising his voice.

“Tons of people suffer from insomnia and there isn't anything a doctor could do for me except look for underlying conditions.” Big Jo's about to retort when you continue with, “Plus my dad and uncle both have insomnia as well so my case is due to the genetic lottery I lost.” You say with a hint of finality of your situation, you had to come to terms with this condition all the way back in high school. Having a decade to get used to your strange condition and the limitations it places on you from time to time. Whereas the Cowell family's only had two months to process this information, and you understand it'll take awhile before they stop being concerned. Same thing happened with you parents and friends back then too.

For now you're only met with more head shakes as if they were saying 'what are we going to do with you'. Leaving your medical issues aside Nate and Big Jo continue to talk shop, when the set up Nate just put on display catches Jo's eye.

Like lightening the tween was away from your side and by the new display shelf it looked like it held graphic novels. That's a first since you've been here, you walk over to join Jo knowing the second you do she'll start on about what's got her so excited. Most people might say you over indulge the child and coddle her but you actually just think it's really important to take interest in what makes kids happy. It helps them find their voices and also shows them that it's normal to get excited and like things.

“We got the TAZ graphic novels in?!” you hate rhetorical questions but smile and nod at her anyway.

“Have you read them? No, well you've listen to the podcast...what omg! Ok so there's these three brothers and their,” Jo begins regaling you with tales from the podcast known as The Adventure Zone and how fun they've made dungeons and dragons seem with their amazing story telling and funny characters.

You aren't sure if a show where the main group of heroes being called Tres Horny Bois is exactly age appropriate but when you look to Big Jo he kind of just shrugs it off. Turning you attention back to Jo who's now monologing about mongooses you just smile at the weird family you've found yourself in.

Let it be said that a tween with a slightly unhealthy fixation on something can find anyway to drag it back to that fixation. The day flew by with Jo explain the inner workings of dungeons and dragons, fifth edition, to you, her father, and her cousin after you mentioned why she didn't play. Apparently she'd love to but wanted a story fitting for her friend's to adventure. So being the good older cousin, father, and weird family friend you all were you came up with a story plot for her to use with her campaign.

The Jos had a lot of fun bonding over this little workshop and you guys even had food delivered so you and Nate could stay later. What was meant to just be a quick workshop turned into a mini family game night after you made several nearly impossible puzzles that wouldn't be used in Jo's campaign due to no one at the current table understanding how to solve it even after you showed them several times.

Overall it was fun and you think you might actually be tired enough to go to sleep tonight. You tried to stay and help clean up but Big Jo put his foot down and told you to go get some rest, he'd seen the way you occasionally look around the room as if something was moving behind them all. You may have started off as a cashier two months ago for him but his daughter has opened up a lot since meeting you and discovering that tics aren't so uncommon and there are people who wouldn't care or make a big deal out of them. Because of that you've earned your keep in his family, he already has you down on the list for Christmas cards.

Knowing you can't fight the six foot four man you roll your eyes and bid everyone good night, little Jo coming in to steal another hug from you and thank you for helping with her game. Checking on your skull you see the water's clear and dump it in the sink of the break room before leaving the skull to dry overnight, it's for sure gonna make Nate scream tomorrow, you can't help but chuckle at that.

Leaving through the back door and into the dusk colored parking lot you notice your trunk is popped open slightly. You definitely heard it shut earlier this morning. You blink before your head jerks to the right, unsettled by possibility of a break in and not risking it you head back inside.

“Hey, I think my car may have been broken into.” you stand awkwardly in the door way unsure of how to proceed.

Big Jo and Nate are out of the door as fast as they can. They find your car unlocked with the trunk popped, you know they weren't trying to brush you off when they asked several times if you did in fact lock your car this morning. After hearing your affirmative response each time, they began to inspect your car checking to make sure all wires are properly secured under the hood, Nate even retrieved the jack out of his own car to take a look under the car, ensuring the brakes hadn't been messed with. They started the car up just fine and it didn't appear tampered with. Even though nothing looked out of place and Nate's car, sitting in the same parking lot, hadn't been touched you appreciated them checking to make sure you were alright.

Knowing you're perceived as a woman by most, even outside of this small town, makes you uneasy when it comes to terms of abductions and violence. You know the chances and hear the stories whether it's from the victim's mouth or a podcaster's telling the story the dead can't. Nate offered to follow you home and make sure you were ok but you declined and said you'd call them both when you got home. Big Jo said to just call his home phone because Nate would be coming over tonight anyway, and if they didn't make it there before you called Dia was already at home and would pass the message along. You'll probably still try and give the shop a call if Dia answers, it wouldn't sit right with you if you wound everyone up just to not and at least try to settle their nerves.

With one final check of you car, the men even going so far as to lift seats up and feel under them, they sent you off. You drove carefully on the road tonight, ready to pull off into the shoulder at the slightest hint that something was wrong. Not even the radio was on something that you really didn't like driving without, but if there was the chance for you to catch a shift in tone of the machine you wanted to. Eventually you did end up making it home in one piece and you had called the Cowell family home, from the safety of your car, and got a spazztic eleven year old asking if you'd made it home alright. It took a little bit of coaxing but Little Jo calmed down and shouted to her parents that you were on the phone and alright.

“Kid,” looks like Big Jo took the phone away from Little Jo, “Everything ok on the drive.” Big Jo could hear the movement and shutting of your car door, he'd have to say he was relieved you waited until you were on the phone before exiting. He knew you lived out past the quiet zone in Old Lydia's house. A fact that did little for the unease he felt when he thought you were being watched.

“Oh, yea drive was fine, too quiet but fine.” you said simply as you began circling the cottage. Nothing seemed out of place on the outside, even looking above eye level where people tended to get sloppy in stalking or home invasion cases, everything seemed fine.

“Hope you don't mind if I keep you for a bit.” You had just unlocked your door and stepped in.

“Nah, kid 's fine.” you give a hum of acknowledgment as you look through the kitchen in cabinets, under cupboards, and even under the table.

“You're a smart kid.” he's taken that fatherly overtone that makes you roll your eyes. You understand the sentiment of parents and parental figures having pride in their child or ward but it's always been so weird to you when they feel the need to bring it up. Especially when they bring it up in situations that are dangerous, like can you not make it sound like someone's about to die.

Finding nothing in the living room, hall closet or bathroom you make sure all the windows are locked and dowels are in place to keep them from opening. And you double check that both the back and front doors are secured. You can hear the hushed whispers on the other end of the line, Dia must have just found out about your car, as you rustle through your kitchen utensil drawers taking out two forks before you make your way to your bedroom.

Once in your room you checked your closet and under your bed. Finding nothing you  went to the window in your room, the one right by your bed, you checked the lock, secured it in place with two dowels, and then covered it throwing a thick blanket over the curtain rod to ensure no one would be viewing you in your sleep or the precautions you were about to do. Turing around and locking your bedroom door you then jam one fork into the closed door crease, right below the locking mechanism, and jammed the other fork perpendicular through the prongs. You attempted to open the door with all your weight but only could get an inch in before the forks would stop more movement.

“Kid you alright over there?” it's rushed, he probably heard the commotion with your make shift lock.

“Yea, just had to add another lock to the door.” you trust the Cowell's but you understand how stupid it'd be to let them know exactly how you were defending yourself. Even if it wasn't them there's no telling if the person who broke into your car was outside and just good at hiding. You could also be too jumpy from your true crime shows but you figure it's better to be safe.

“I think everything's good Big Jo.” taking a final glance around your room eye's landing on the bed, “Think I'm even ready to go to sleep tonight too.” a small half laugh leaves your mouth.

“Alright kid, you call if you need anything got it.” it's an order not a request.

“Got it, good night.” Big Jo might think that'd been rude coming from anyone else but from you he can only roll his eyes at the brevity and the dial tone he's met with. He has his own sweep to do, if they were targeting his employee there was a reason. He hasn't had any problems since coming to Kepler but someone always eventually comes along who can't take a hint.

Even combing through your home with Big Jo on the line you didn't feel safe having your bed by the window anymore and moved it away and in front of the closet door. You'd rearrange your room later but for tonight this would have to do. By some grace of god you were actually able to shut your brain down tonight and rest. Maybe it was the excitement and merriment from hanging out with the Cowells or more likely the situation you find yourself in of perhaps being a target for something insidious.

Whatever the case may be you are off to the land of dreams before you know it. And unbeknownst to you the same eyes from this morning watch your home. They may not have seen what you did in there but they'd be sure to catch you when you come out. They'll wait all night to catch you if they have to.