#like from Thomas prev relationships where he’s like

[pleasechooseausername]

Yves Olade - Belovéd/Unknown/George Inness, Moonrise, 1887/Unknown/Brent Cotton/Sufjan Stevens - John my Beloved/Sylvia Plath - Elm

[rrxnjun]

dancing in my backseat ✲ l. donghyuck

pairing. film student! donghyuck x film student! fem! reader starring. uchinaga aeri genre. college au, acquaintances to lovers. fluff, comedy, suggestive warnings. mentions of alcohol and weed, swearing, sexual innuendos word count. 24k (24.047) a/n. please dont hate me for the fact that this does not have any expected smut in it i tried and it felt too awkward i just COULDN'T. also this fic doesn't fit the image of it i had in my head at all but i actually kind of prefer this version over the prev idea i had anyway <;3

playlist. marvelous - wallows / crash my car - coin / test drive - ariana grande / streets - doja cat / no manners - superm / feather - sabrina carpenter / AEAO - dynamicduo / wet tongue - thomas headon / car crash - eaj / delicious - the boyz / but i like you - boynextdoor

there are only a few things in which men value their social status; one of them being the number of girls in their bed, the next one their rank in league of legends, and lastly, their cars— or— where you would never fuck a guy without a driver's licence.

✲ PART 3 OF THE SIMPLIFY ROMANCE SERIES ✲

If anyone asked you about your relationship with Lee Donghyuck, you’d scoff at them and simply state that the resident gemini was your moral enemy. Was that true? No. No, of course it wasn’t– there was nothing this man has done in his life to get on your bad side, and you truly don’t feel any hatred towards him, but at the end of the day, it’s always easier to say this than to explain the exact feelings you have towards the male without sounding at least a bit overly-dramatic.

See, you don’t hate Lee Donghyuck; you don’t think he’s your enemy either– you just find him absolutely, excruciatingly annoying.

And it’s not his personality, no– although you do admit that the way he carries himself and has such high mind about himself is quite alarming– the way your toes curl and the hair on your body stands up, all alert in sheer ick and disgust, has nothing to do with his ego and everything to do with your experience with the man. 

The first time you find Lee Donghyuck intensely annoying is when you get a text one day (having acquired his phone number from one of the class group chats, since the two of you major in the same program), at 9 in the morning, approximately 15 minutes before you have to leave your apartment to get to your fist class of the day. The man picked the wrong time to bother you, since it was Monday, of all days– the beginning of the week always manages to rile you up just because it exists in the first place– and you could give him the benefit of the doubt and say that it wasn’t his fault at all and you woke up grumpy already, but the events that happened after made you so deeply disturbed and annoyed to your core that there truly wasn’t any other word left in your vocabulary to describe Lee Donghyuck than the adjective already mentioned – annoying.

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – hi im in a crisis lee donghyuck (film theory class) – can u pls throw some toilet paper lee donghyuck (film theory class) – we ran out and my roommate already left for class lee donghyuck (film theory class) – pleaaaaase

Staring at the texts appearing on your phone screen in a hurry, you stop in your tracks and furrow your brows at the contact name in confusion. The truth is, you haven’t spoken to Lee Donghyuck that many times– you just know that he’s friends with your friend Lee Yangyang from high school and you two meet occasionally at the said friend’s gatherings. Plus, you had a discussion or two about the beauty of Quentin Tarantino movies when you met at orientation in freshman year, and that's also when you learned that he’s your neighbor; in fact, the window to his flat's bathroom and his very own bedroom face yours. But that’s about as far as it goes when it comes to your closeness. You’re not familiar enough with him to text each other or to think of each other in a time of need, so to have his first texts to you be about him being out of toilet paper is a thing to really dwell on to fully understand the extent of the bad impression this man had on you.

you – what the fuck

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – just open the window and throw me some lee donghyuck (film theory class) – i am good at catching

you – im in a hurry rn. gotta get to class

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – SO DO I why else do u think id be up this early lee donghyuck (film theory class) – so PLEASE throw me the damn toilet paper so im not late today

Shaking your head in disbelief at the conversation you’re currently having, too confused and tired to deal with it so early in the morning, you walk up to your room and look out of the window. Right opposite of you, not being further than 10 meters, if you’re being absolutely exact, is Lee Donghyuck’s head popping out from the bottom rim of his bathroom window, seemingly still sitting on the toilet. The look in his eyes is desperate as he clasps his hands together and mouths “Please!” at you, his face forming into a truly humiliating scowl that makes you wonder if he's truly done with what he'd been doing on the toilet only a few minutes prior. 

Sighing, you turn on your feet and escape your room– not noticing the absolutely disturbed and mortified face Donghyuck’s pulling behind your back, thinking you abandoned him and took off for class– and you truly can’t believe yourself when you walk into your own bathroom and take the half-used roll of toilet paper off the stand, murmuring a silent “Fucking hell” under your nose as you walk back to your bedroom and open up your window wide. Donghyuck’s eyes light up now, as if he was a kid under a Christmas tree about to receive a gift from Santa.

“If it falls to the street, I’m not getting it!” you yell after the boy, seeing as he eagerly nods and ushers you with a wave of his hands.

“Just throw it and I’ll be sure to catch it!” he nods, waiting for you to start your career in the new twist on baseball– a sport you’d call a toilet roll throw against the street. His eyes seem focused, knowing this is his only opportunity at wiping his ass this morning (why neither of you thought of suggesting to use the shower instead, you don't know to this day– perhaps it was too early in the morning for such complex strategies), when you surprisingly do your best at aiming for his window– thank god you both live on the same floor– and throw the roll across the alleyway, the paper unwinding only slightly before it lands on the floor of Lee Donghyuck’s pearl white bathroom.

“Thank you so much, you are my savior!” he yells, his head disappearing from the window, leaving you alone in your room to watch the commotion. When nothing happens for a while, you only shake your head in disbelief once again, deciding your job here is over and you can finally take off for your dreaded lecture.

“I’ll get going!” you scream into the void, scratching the back of your neck, aimlessly. 

“Mhm! See you later!” 

Nodding to yourself, you sigh, closing the window and doing a double take as you’re about to leave your flat for class, hopefully still on time. In disbelief, feeling the second-hand embarrassment seeping to your bones, you put on your shoes at the entrance and swear to yourself that you’re never gonna answer any of Lee Donghyuck’s texts ever again.

The previous scene already established that you’re no stranger to second hand embarrassment. I’m sure all of you have experienced it before– seeing someone desperately flirt with your friend, knowing that they’re not interested… Watching a drama and being absolutely grossed out with the script, wondering how the actors got convinced to take on the role… Hearing someone say an absurd answer in class… There are many, for sure, and the list could just keep going. You saw it with your own eyes as well, when your friend Choi Beomgyu tried hard to impress a girl at the skate park and managed to fall off his skateboard mid-trick, tearing his jeans in the crotch area in the process. Or when your roommate Aeri got tipsy at the club and who she thought was a very fine gentleman to flirt with was actually her ex boyfriend. The list goes on and on.

What about first hand embarrassment, though? You’re sure you experienced it before as well, but if anyone asked you, you’d tell them you don’t remember any embarrassing stories. If it’s because you just don’t want anyone knowing about the shame in your bones or if you really hated those experiences so much you chose to bury them and extract them out of your memory, you won’t tell. You just won’t let the shame haunt you for any longer than it has to, that’s for sure. 

So when you walk home from the hairdresser one afternoon and you’re met with your roommate Aeri looking at you with lips pressed together, yet the corners tugging upwards in what you assume (and fully know) is her trying to hold back an amused laugh, you admit that your suspicions were indeed correct when you saw yourself in the mirror at the salon and you’re going to have to live through another embarrassing moment. One that will take days and weeks to outlive as well, since your hair doesn’t grow back overnight– and when you look into the mirror again, you’re terrified.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing, it’s just… you look… well, you know, it’s just…” she mumbles, before she finally breaks into a loud laugh, standing behind you and examining the state of your hair in the mirror of your entrance hall with you, hands coming up to play with your strands and hold them up and down, brushing your bangs out of your face and ruffling the top– trying everything possible to find a single good hairdo with the haircut you have going on right now. “Oh babygirl… what did the do to your beautiful hair…” she mourns, the tone of her voice still amused, but now also kind of considerate.

“I told her I only wanted a trim,” you say, voice weak in what you realize is you holding back your tears and suppressing a mental breakdown, “how the fuck am I supposed to show my face to the world tomorrow?” 

Your roommate sighs at you, spinning you around so you no longer can see the disaster on your head, a pout forming on her face as she lightly shoves you deeper into the apartment. “At a second glance, it’s really not that bad, you know–”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” you cut her off, annoyed at her soft eyes.

“I don’t?” she looks at you, shocked irises hardening when she realizes you no longer need her sympathetic words. “Okay, thank god. Man, she fucked you uuup, leave a bad review like, right now. I’d cry myself to sleep if I got a haircut like that–”

“I take it back, I liked your lies better,” you roll your eyes at her, walking over to the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water to calm down your racing heart. The mental breakdown is still right around the corner and you realize you have to do everything in your power to stop it, because you already have a fucked up haircut– you can’t afford to show up to class tomorrow with puffy eyes and stress-induced pimples as well. Gulping down the cold liquid, you decide to hop into the shower (and avoid looking in the mirror at all costs, which is kind of difficult, since there's three of them just on your way to the bathroom). 

Meeting the encouraging eyes of your roommate once you come out of the shower, hair tied up in a towel so you don't have to think about it any longer, Aeri's words reach your ears in the living room. “Come on, I’m sure we can manage to do something with this tomorrow morning,” she smiles, “at least you have a pretty face. You can pull off everything!”

And the truth is, even though Aeri is nice, she’s not always right. You’re met with the fact the next morning as you watch your reflection in the mirror before you both leave for your shared Film theory class, standing next to each other defeated; one breathtakingly beautiful and one looking like the main character from Chicken little. You'd be fine with it if it was only you who was aware of your disastrous image, you would be able to deal with the shame and insecurity silently– but that's not what happens as you’re only reminded by the fact that other people, sadly, do perceive you, against your biggest wishes, throughout the whole day.

You’re reminded by the fact that your haircut is fucked up when Ji Changmin, the guy you share an Animation class with, sees you in the corridor and does the yikes face at you and his friend Sunwoo hides his face from you as they turn the corner. You’re reminded by the fact again when you see Jisu, the ever-so-sweet girl that majors in Finance, the girl that’s friends with everyone in this school, look at you with a considerate look, patting your shoulder when she passes you by before you enter your Film theory classroom. 

And most importantly, you’re reminded by the fact when you finally sit down– at the very back of the classroom, which is both valid and understandable, considering your current state– and you’re met with a thud of a backpack to your left, a figure sitting down on the usually vacant spot. Clenching your jaw and looking up to see its owner, mentally preparing yourself for the teasing that’s about to come, you meet eyes with a tall, sleek man, shirt tucked into his black jeans and a sigh of relief escaping his throat as he sits down on the uncomfortable chair. Lee Donghyuck waves at you in greeting when he notices you there, running his hand through his neatly styled hair.

“Hi there,” he breathes out, “can’t believe I made it on time. My alarm didn’t go off and my roommate couldn’t be arsed to wake me, even though our morning lectures start at the same time, so I had to run and my usual seat is taken already… hope you don’t mind me sitting here– woah.”

And here it is again– the feeling of absolute humiliation as the man scans you up and down, eyes bearing into yours with an unreadable look on his face. Is this how he felt when he texted you to throw toilet paper through his bathroom window? Or was he immune to the shame? 

“Did you get a new haircut?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you in question.

“Shut the fuck up,” you sigh, already annoyed with his antics– because frankly, you know what will come next. 

“That’s an interesting answer to a yes or no question,” he muses, chuckling to himself, “I’ll take it as a yes, though, but it seems like you’re not satisfied with the new look…”

“Woah. You should work with the FBI or something,” you mumble, averting your gaze from him and looking straight in front of you, praying for the class to start fast so you don’t have to interact with your neighbor any longer and listen to him make fun of you for your new look.

“Why? It doesn’t look bad at all,” he says, the tone of his voice fakely considerate, making you want to punch him in the gut, “It’s interesting. I like it. It shows off your eyes and your forehead more, since your bangs are way shorter now,” he says, putting emphasis on the fact that your bangs truly are half their original length– which wasn't your original plan at all– only riling you up more.

“Only thing left to add is that I have a massive forehead, isn’t it?” you ironically smile at him, and the male takes your word for it as his eyes focus on the exposed part of your skin, furrowed eyebrows and all, as he examines your features.

“Not massive, but it’s a little… like, I wouldn’t say–”

“Just don’t say anything, okay?” you sigh, cutting him off and folding your arms at your chest in a poor attempt at defending yourself.

“Geez, why are you so snappy? I was complimenting you, y'know,” he says, and if you were more stupid, you’d even believe him– the tone of his voice still sounds genuine, but that’s just the way your neighbor likes to deceive people, and you know that; you’ve seen it happen multiple times before. “It adds character.”

The comment makes you roll your eyes, all words taken off your tongue– you simply think there’s no use defending your atrocious haircut now (not that you tried defending it before, even you aren't that oblivious). Your gaze is focused anywhere but at your seatmate, counting down the minutes until the class starts and you're taken out of your misery for at least an hour and a half. Your Film theory professor is almost never late and now is the only day you’re content and happy about the fact, because it means you won’t have to listen to Lee Donghyuck for more than approximately 2 more minutes until the small, hunched over frame of your professor strides through the door. 

Still, you feel his burning gaze to the side of your face, and despite your best intentions, you snap your head towards him and bite at the annoying gemini.

“Take a picture, it will last longer,” you spit, scoffing at the male.

“Can I really?” he asks, and before you have a chance to disagree, his phone is shoved into your point of view and the shutter comes off, making you lounge after the man in a poor attempt at taking his phone away and deleting the first picture of your new hair ever taken. (Well, except for the one you took crying last night, with a peace sign and your tongue darted to the side against your mirror. You don’t need any more traces of your current haircut than that one.)

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – hi neigbor whatchu doin lee donghyuck (film theory class) – u have a car right

Squinting at the next text conversation with Lee Donghyuck, the first one since he asked you for toilet paper 3 weeks ago, you feel nothing more than pure confusion at the strange questions the man asks you in the middle of the night. It’s Friday evening and your roommate went out with a guy named Eric she met four weeks ago in the gym, and even though you were slightly concerned when she texted you to say she was staying over at his house for the first time, you only showed her support as you went to lay down with no other plans for your evening. Falling asleep to your midnight playlist playing in the background (thanking God for the smart feature that makes the music shut off after 30 minutes), it's completely understandable and predictable that the noise of an incoming text annoys you when you hear it only a few minutes after 2 in the morning. The fact that it’s your neighbor texting you, out of all people, only makes the fury in you bigger as you click your tongue and shoot him a quick text back.

you – what do u want

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – neighbor!!!!! lee donghyuck (film theory class) – you do have a car 

Staring at the text that just appeared on your screen, you sigh and decide to spill the truth, preparing for whatever request that’s about to come after you admit to the fact that you do, indeed, have a perfectly functioning vehicle parked behind the building.

you – yes 

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – perfect lee donghyuck (film theory class) – do u hav sm time on ur hands

you – im sleeping

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – veryfunny youre replying rn tho lee donghyuck (film theory class) – come on itsa simple request

Breaking your back just to decipher the words through the amount of typos Lee Donghyuck’s making, your annoyance only grows bigger. Has he always been a bad texter? You don’t remember him struggling as much when he was sitting on the toilet three weeks ago– his texts were absolutely clear and with 0 mistakes back then. Maybe he was in a more desperate situation back then, after all…

you – what do u want hyuck its late

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – can u drive me home

And here it goes– in the back of your mind, you somehow knew it was coming. There were only a few reasons why someone would ask if you owned a car, and judging by the fact that it was now 2 in the morning on a Friday night, your neighbor wasn’t trying to sell you a new vehicle just in case you didn't have one yourself. Getting a drive home would be the only logical request from someone asking if you owned a car– it would only be more logical if the person asking you was your friend, and not an acquaintance at best.

Staring at the screen of your phone, counting down from 10 to not snap at the ridiculous request, you watch as the device lights up with an incoming call. You don’t even have to look at the caller ID to know who’s calling, and despite your best assumptions, you pick up with no more thought given, waiting for the person on the other side of the line to speak first.

“Y/N,” he says, voice breathless. 

“Lee Donghyuck.”

“Can you please drive me home?” he asks, tone of voice lazy and tired, something about the dragging of his words hinting you that there’s more to the request than you’re grasping right now.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, right off the bat, to clear out any confusion. 

There’s a short silence on the other side of the line, one that hints that you’re completely right in your assumptions, but you still want to hear it from the guilty man himself. “Maybe a little,” he admits, snickering, “I was over at Yangyang’s and then he kicked me out and I… my legs hurt too much to walk home.”

Sighing loudly at the man’s antics, you shake your head in disbelief and clear your throat. “I don’t see how that’s my problem?”

“Oh, come oonnn,” he drags out, “it’s not that far.”

“Yeah, so I don’t see how you can’t walk back, then?” you mutter, rolling your eyes at the demanding tone in your neighbor’s voice. If it was anyone else, maybe, just maybe, you’d be on your way already. You never decline your friend’s requests for favors, since you know they’d do the same if you asked, but you don’t really see how Lee Donghyuck, a man you’re not even close to in the first place, could repay the favor. What on Earth was he thinking in the first place when he called you? Were you his last option? Is he out of his mind?

“Because my legs hurt, if you were paying attention, you’d know that I told you before–”

“I don’t really care,” you mutter, “this is not my problem, I’m ending the call now, goodbye!”

“Y/N!”

The tone of his voice is desperate. Laced in agony, even. Still, you don’t care as you cut off the line and close your laptop that's been your source of music during the late night, settling deeper into your sheets. This is not your circus, not your monkeys, and frankly, you don’t really care what happens to Lee Donghyuck on his way home from Yangyang’s house, no matter how drunk or high he is right now. The man has done nothing but annoy you in your short, 23 year old life, and you’re not going to change out of your pajamas just to drive a few miles to get your dumb neighbor back home.

You’re not going to lose your beauty sleep for this. No, not at all.

Still, your eyes only close when you see the light in Lee Donghyuck’s room go on and the shadow of his slouched figure safely hits his bedsheets, another smaller frame coming to close his door and shut the blinds off, turning the light back off. 

The next Monday, you find yourself sitting in your Film theory class alongside your roommate Aeri that’s currently snoozing in the middle of the lecture. You can’t really blame her, since she only got home from her romantic retreat (read as: hanging out at Eric Sohn’s house the whole weekend and having sex possibly on every surface of his little flat downtown) on Sunday evening, and you can only imagine that she didn’t have much sleep during her stay there. 

And the class was boring, to add another reason for your roommate's nap. It’s not like you weren’t interested in the theory behind every movie, like the topic itself wasn’t interesting– you quite enjoyed wondering about all the special details in each movie that complete the story and make the atmosphere pop just in the right way– but the professor currently standing at the very bottom of the auditorium is old enough to be there when the Lumiére brothers showed the first ever movie to the public back in the 19th century, and his age only matches with the monotonous style of his teaching. Which means that his voice is mellow, but close enough to a lullaby, and with the amount of issues you have when paying attention in general, the lack of focus caused by this only feeds your distraction during the lectures, resulting in you not really being the top of the class in this specific subject.

So when you hear the professor mutter something under his nose about a project in pairs you’ll have to submit until the end of the semester, you feel your heart drop down to your stomach, all alert. Suddenly, you’re 100% present, brain racking about all the possible solutions and ways you could go around this just so you could pass the subject this year. 

Because frankly speaking, at the moment, you’re failing the class. And if you don’t manage to get a good grade on this final project, you’re going to have to retake the class next year– and trust me, another year listening to the monotonous lectures won’t make you pass easier, since you can only imagine the boredom will only grow once you’re in this class the second year in a row and you'd already heard all of the lectures once before.

“What was that?” Aeri mumbles under her nose when she notices you staring at the front of the classroom with wide eyes, an expression close to one you'd wear after seeing a ghost (with the age of your professor, you might as well have). She often tells you you look like a deer in the headlights when you get shocked or stressed-out, and you can’t say that comment doesn’t make you insecure. Still, you can’t quite control it when you sigh and turn to your roommate with a distressed look on your face.

“We have a final assignment to do,” you mumble, “in pairs.”

“Amazing, we’re doing it together, then,” she yawns, stretching a little before slumping over the desk again, ready for round two of her nap. 

“Fuck no,” you quickly dart, looking at her with furrowed brows.

“What do you mean, no?” 

Sighing, watching as she opens her eyes and looks at you with an offended expression on her face, you shake your head in disapproval and lower your voice, careful to explain yourself. “Look, girl, I love you, you know that,” you assure, “but we are both failing this fucking class. And I can’t afford to do badly just because the both of us suck, because I am not retaking this atrocious class ever again, so I suggest that the both of us find someone with good grades to leech from and get this over with.”

Aeri squints at you, seemingly lost in thought– more so contemplating your master plan– before she leans back in her chair and cautiously looks around the room. “You have a point there.”

“See? It’s nothing personal,” you chuckle, seeing as your roommate nods to herself.

“Okay, I’ll flutter my eyelashes at Shotaro,” she turns to you, eyes bright with the newly made plan, “we’re both Japanese, so he’s not legally allowed to turn me down.”

Rolling your eyes at her comment, you only nod in approval to her idea. Shotaro was one of the best in this class, so you can imagine that working with him would satisfy your professor enough to let Aeri pass the class this year. The only thing left to do was find the culprit to your own plan– you needed to team up with someone good enough to at least make you get a D on your final. And since half of the class was just as good as you in this particular subject, there weren’t many candidates left.

Eyes scanning the crowd (thank god you chose to sit in the back again), your gaze lands on a particular man sitting a few rows under you, a little bit to your right. Helplessly searching through the flood of your classmates currently occupying the auditorium, you sigh to yourself in realization, already dreading what’s about to come when the class is dismissed and you hurriedly walk over to the only person that can help you now, before he escapes the university grounds and you’re going to have to shamefully text him or ring his doorbell this afternoon.

“Donghyuck! Wait!” you yell after him, legs taking you closer to the man in question, now standing still in the middle of the moving crowd, watching you in curiosity.

“What’s up, neighbor?” he asks with a lazy smile, the tug at his lips only making your blood boil and your insides tighten into a bundle of nerves. Everything about him was ticking you off, the slouch in his shoulders making you want to stand behind him and fix his bad posture and slap the back of his head so you no longer have to look at him standing like a hermit crab, the glint in his eyes making you want to curl your fingers into a fist and slam your hand against a wall. The seemingly strong emotions of annoyance run through your veins whenever you interact with Lee Donghyuck, it seems, but the senile voice of your professor keeps repeating itself somewhere in the back of your head throughout the whole interaction, and so you choose to take a deep breath in and out before you smile at the man and prepare your best speech– you can't afford to be picky with this any longer.

“Who are you doing the project with?” you ask innocently at first, trying to get some info out of him.

He offers you a suspicious look, but replies nonetheless. “I’m not sure yet,” he sighs, “I was thinking of chasing down Haknyeon, but you stopped me in my tracks…” he shakes his head at you, teasing. 

“Hmm, I see,” you mumble, more for the effect than for anything else, “well, what if we do it together?”

There aren’t many instances in which you could catch Lee Donghyuck completely silent. Now is one of them, though, as he watches you with wide, surprised eyes, furrowed brows and his plump lips slightly agape, breathing in a few times before he shakes his head as if to reset the system, snickering to himself. “Us two?”

“Yeah, why not?” you peep, shrugging.

“Look, respectfully,” Donghyuck starts, and you brace yourself for the impact, “your grades in this class aren’t as good as mine, and even though I’d love to do it with you, I don’t wanna be the one doing all the work and–”

“I’ll help!” you snap, maybe too urgently for your own liking. “I promise. I’ll do everything in my power, I just really need your help with this,” you plea, looking at him with what you pray are your best puppy eyes, seeing as the man in front of you chuckles at the expression and averts his gaze from you for a heartbeat, signaling that you were most likely unsuccessful at the attempt.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he shrugs, shaking his head at you, even going as far as taking one step away from you, “see, if you hadn't declined my call on Friday, maybe I’d take this offer as a way to repay the favor, but you know…”

“I threw you toilet paper before, Donghyuck, you can’t be shitting me right now–” you feel your blood boil at the note, the ever so familiar annoyance seeping back into your bones.

“That was nothing–”

“You seemed pretty desperate back then.”

“That was the past, sweetheart,” he chuckles, taking another step away from you, somehow overthrowing your annoyance with pure, embarrassing desperation as you chase after him and stop him with a swift motion of your hand, catching him by his wrist. He stares at you with a shiteating grin on his face, one he always uses to get a reaction from you, and somehow, you know this is all a game for him, a stupid tug of war, but you can’t help it– you are in a desperate situation. So if you need to say please to the man and humiliate yourself in front of him just to pass this class, then so be it.

“Please, Hyuck? Just this once, I swear I’ll make it up to you. Literally, say anything, I’m gonna do it, I just really need to pass this class,” you mumble, a pout forming at your lips as you clasp your hands together– much like he did back when you two communicated through the window of his bathroom– and you swear you can see the gears in his brain turning when he calculates his next move and tells you his answer.

“Anything?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, hoping that Lee Donghyuck still has some dignity in him and wouldn’t ask for anything that would make you uncomfortable. He’s annoying, sure, but he’s not a dick, after all.

“Okay, then,” he nods, tone of voice airy, underlined with laughter, “be my personal driver for the entirety of the project, then. I’ll do it if you drive me places,” he grins, and that’s when your composure falls.

“Absolutely not.”

“Well then, say goodbye to the grade!”

Putting your arm around the passenger’s seat headrest, twisting your whole body as you look back and reverse the car into the parking spot in front of the mall, you see the figure next to you still in its place, eyes alert and staring at you. “If you’re so terrified of me driving, why did you want me to do this in the first place?” you sigh, finally turning back to the front and turning the engine off once you're standing straight between the lines, satisfied with your job.

“That’s- that’s not it,” he clears his throat and gulps nervously, shaking his head. “Anyways, let’s go,” Donghyuck says, slapping his thighs like parents do when it’s time to leave a family gathering, grinning at you widely as he waits for you to get out of the vehicle.

“What do you mean, let’s go? I drove you here, I can go now,” you glare, not satisfied with the way your Wednesday afternoon was going. You only agreed to the deal on Monday, and Donghyuck already made you drive him home after class twice and also asked you to drive him to the school this morning. Having him constantly leeching around you and making you drive him places wasn’t exactly fun, since he always asked weird questions and made fun of your bored face at every red light, so you really, desperately, needed him to be gone already so you could head home and scream into your pillow to unwind the nerves. 

“Well, how am I supposed to get back when I’m done shopping?” he innocently asks, pouting at you. “My hands are gonna be full with bags and you’re gonna have to come pick me up, because that’s the deal, and I can’t afford to wait with my hands full until you get back here, so you might as well stay and come with me, so it’s convenient.”

“Nothing about this is convenient for me,” you mumble, but comply with his orders nonetheless. “Why don’t you get a car? Or take a bus back?”

“Buses smell and I don’t have a license,” he mutters, “besides, I have you now to be my personal taxi driver, so I don't need a car,” he shrugs, walking alongside you to the mall. 

His confession startles you, makes you halt in your step as the boy looks at you with defeated eyes, already knowing what’s next. This scenario has happened to him multiple times before– he’s best friends with Huang Renjun and Liu Yangyang, he’s in for a teasing at every single action of his that goes just slightly wrong– but to hear it from you will surely feel more humbling to the man. Closing his eyes as if to not see the grin overtaking your features, he sighs. “What?”

“You don’t have a license?” you tease, snickering. “For real?”

“No.”

“Why? You failed the test?” you ask again, catching up to the male and falling in with his quick pace, enjoying the fact that you now have the upper hand on him for once.

“Never really tried getting it in the first place,” he mumbles, shrugging. 

“Why?”

“I dunno,” he shamefully ducks his head, “it seems scary,” he adds, making you snort out at his confession.

“Fucking hell dude,” you laugh out now, swatting his shoulder in a teasing manner, “that’s so embarrassing, it’s not even really that difficult in the first place–”

“I don’t know what’s more embarrassing,” he cuts you off, tone of voice laced with frustration as he realizes you are a bit too amused at him admitting to one of his fears, “is it me not having a license or you driving me around because you're failing a class… Hm?” he asks, locking eyes with you, lips pressed shut into a straight line, and suddenly, your composures exchange. He won. Again.

“Anyways, let’s get going!” he smiles, dismissing the previous discussion as he tugs you by your hand into one of the stores right in the middle of the mall.

You should’ve already predicted that shopping with Lee Donghyuck would be exhausting. Not only did he demand to know your opinion on every single thing he tried on, he also wanted you to pick up something for him to try– as if driving him here wasn’t too much work for you as it was. All you wanted to do was walk back to your car and get away from him as soon as possible, but with the way he teasingly poked your sides every time you weren’t paying attention and turned to your phone to entertain yourself with some mindless scrolling on social media, you weren’t able to escape even mentally, no matter how hard you tried. 

“Why don’t you try something on?” 

“I’m not in the mood,” you glare, walking out of the last store in the whole entire mall, the sky behind the glass doors already dark from how late it’s gotten. You’re pretty sure it’s gonna close soon, but checking the time on your phone, you’re relieved to learn that you still have enough time to get boba from the stand at the entrance of the mall. You deserve a little treat after involuntarily hanging out with Lee Donghyuck the whole day, after all. Call it your girl dinner, or something.

“Taro milk tea with coconut jelly, please,” you smile at the tired barista behind the counter, noticing the way Donghyuck stands next to you and looks at the menu. You expect him to order a drink for himself as well, and surely, he doesn’t disappoint as he smiles at the girl, the tone of his voice sweet and considerate– so far away from the way he speaks to you on a daily basis– as he asks for his own drink.

“Will you pay together or separately?” she asks.

“Separate–”

“Together,” your companion cuts you off, grinning at you when you glare at the man, sighing at his antics.

“Come on, I already drive you everywhere, do you think gas is cheap? Now you want me to pay for your boba as well?” you whine, reaching for your wallet as you frown at the male, his confused eyes bearing into yours when he slightly nudges you from his way, offering the girl behind the counter his card instead. The action shuts you up, making the gears in your brain turn faster as you watch him in the action, and it doesn't fully register yet, but you're left feeling a bit taken aback and sheepish when the cashier hands him the receipt.

“I was gonna buy it for you as a thank you for the nice day, but now you’re making me look like I felt pressured to,” he sighs, shaking his head at your little tantrum. His actions still don’t register in your brain, though, his words resonating all the way through your ears to your Wernicke’s area and right back, hanging everywhere in the air of the mall, shock making your body still. Then, it hits you.

“Ah,” you gasp, feeling the tips of your ears burning with shame at the fact that you managed to ruin his nice gesture, your eyes scanning the space in a poor attempt to not look at him or the cashier still watching your exchange.

“Get your drink and let’s go,” he nudges you instead, rolling his eyes for good measure as he walks out of the mall, nearing your car in the parking lot.

“Look at this, look! Isn’t it funny?” Donghyuck hovers over you with his phone in his hand, giggling to himself as he tries to make you look at the screen. You don’t really know why he’s trying to get a laugh out of you, honestly, but he’s currently doing everything but that as you’re sat in his living room, legs plopped up onto the sofa and crossed in front of you, waiting patiently– but also kind of boiling on the inside out of frustration– for him to pay attention to you.

“Hyuck, I didn’t come here to watch Tiktoks with you,” you say, eyes sharp, tone of your voice cutting like razors– efficiently making him look up from his screen and meet your gaze with an amused grin, “I’m not really sure if you forgot, but I came to discuss the project,” you mutter, sighing.

“Jeez,” you see him roll his eyes, the energy around him still not shifting as he maintains his casual and unfocused composure, but you know that on the inside, he's enjoying the view– your angry face seems to be his most favorite thing to stare at recently, “didn’t know you lack a sense of humor.”

“What?” you look at him, confused, quite frankly, before you shake your head in disbelief at the comment. “You know what, just put the phone away for 5 seconds and finally talk to me about the project, smart boy, or else I’m not wasting my time here any longer and I’m leaving.”

“You’re acting as if you’re the one putting in work,” he mumbles, snickering.

“I will be putting in work when you tell me what to do!”

At your sentence, Donghyuck finally puts his phone back at the coffee table and shifts a little in his seat, facing you and scratching the back of his head, seemingly lost in thought. You let him, convinced that if you speak up and cut off his train of thought, the poor boy wouldn’t be able to get back to it again, waiting for him to be done with his brain weaving so you can pick up on them and ride them out, seeming at least decently smart (or not completely stupid). When he finally speaks up, he licks his lips and shrugs.

“We just gotta pick a theme and do our best portraying it with no words in a 3 minute clip, right?” he asks you in reassurance, as if you were the most reliable source of information when it comes to this class and its assignments.

“Yeah,” still, you agree.

“Well, then we just gotta pick a theme and the rest will be easy,” he nods to himself, reaching back for his phone, which you swiftly take from his hold and hide behind your body. 

“Hey–”

“We’re not done talking about this! I’m not letting you use your phone, because you’re just gonna scroll on Tiktok instead of thinking about this,” you squint at him, twisting and turning in your seat as his hands try to sneak around your sitting figure and take the device out of your grasp. 

He seems determined as his arm lands on your elbow, a victorious grin smoothly swiped off his face when you sit on his phone and flash him a wide grin. “I’ll give it back when we have the theme down!”

“That’s an invasion of my privacy,” Donghyuck mumbles, and you roll your eyes at him, pointing a finger to his shoulder.

“That’s not what an invasion of privacy means, but whatever floats your boat…” you mumble, watching him sit back in his seat, defeated as his shoulders slouch and his gaze is glued to the wall in front of him. You’re not sure what’s so interesting about the white paint, but at least there’s not the noise of his phone filling your ears right now– you’re more than okay with silence, since you don't get to hear it often when Donghyuck is present. You would like it better if he spoke up and talked to you about the assignment, but if you had to choose between him being annoying and him being quiet, you think everyone knows which one of the two you’d prefer.

“So?” you test the waters after a while, seeing if your project partner decides to finally comply with your request and discuss the important matters.

“So? Do you got any ideas?” he teases, watching you with challenging eyes.

Clearing your throat, caught off guard at the request– you assumed he’d tell you exactly what to do and you just have to do it and follow his lead, essentially not putting in much effort and still being sure of passing the class– but it seems like Lee Donghyuck won’t let you off that easily. You should've expected it. Being difficult is his favorite hobby, after all.

“Well, you’re the smart one here, so…” you shrug, trying the method that always works on men– and that is praising them.

“So you’re saying you’re stupid?”

“If it works in my favor during this conversation, then sure,” you nod, smiling at him in irony. Hyuck gives you a defeated sigh, shaking his head at you before he clicks his tongue at you and finally gives in.

“Okay, so, I was thinking we should pick a theme that fits the current social struggles, but after hearing this, I don't think feminism is our best choice,” he mutters.

“Like you’d know anything about feminism–”

“What do you have me for?” Donghyuck sharply glares at you, clicking his tongue at you in pure offense. “I am a fan of Little women, I'll have you know, of course I’m a feminist.”

“Well, you must be a fake fan, since everything about this deal is just me majorly girlbossing,” you point out, trying really hard to prove your point.

“Are you even being serious right now–”

“Anyways,” you cut him off, “what were you thinking?”

The man sighs and shakes his head at you in disbelief, but still speaks up again nonetheless. “I was thinking, well, maybe we could pick something that would really play into the old man’s feelings, you know, so we get him all sentimental and moved to tears…” he starts off, tone of voice now completely serious, making him sound kind of smart– startling you in the process, “that leaves us with a few possible options. We could do something with the 18 hundreds, or… fishing? I heard he’s into fishing. Or we could do something more abstract and shoot something about youth, since he’s very old and this could get him nostalgic. Or!” he suddenly perks up in his seat, eyes wide and a disturbing grin sitting at his lips, “we could include nudity! He’s a man, after all… wanna shoot porn? We don’t need words for porn.”

In absolute disbelief, you stare at the man with eyes wide open, blinking a few times and taking a few seconds to yourself to process the monologue you just listened to. You knew he was absolutely insufferable, but you didn’t know he was this much of a dumb freak. 

Taking your silence for disgust, Donghyuck just nods to himself and purses his lips.

“Youth it is, then… I mean, nudity would be difficult to present in front of the class for sure–” he admits, pouting.

“Yeah, like that’s the only problem with that idea…”

Afternoon classes aren’t your favorite ones of the week and although you absolutely despise waking up early and having to commute to university while you’re still half-asleep and absolutely irritated, there’s nothing that infuriates you more than knowing you could be done with the day already, sitting at home and watching your favorite TV show, only if it wasn’t for the responsibility of having to stay at campus and sit through another hour and a half lecture on a Thursday afternoon, way too late for your brain to be working in those hours.

This is one of the only classes you don’t share with your roommate Aeri– which makes the lecture that more excruciating, since you don’t have anyone with you that you could gossip with about your classmates or friends from back home when it gets too boring and you can't bear sitting in silence and forcing yourself to focus anymore– but there is one person from your circle that you do share this class with, and yes, you already guessed it; it’s Lee Donghyuck.

You don’t know when you’ve gotten so close to the point where he sits in the vacant seat right next to you almost immediately, followed by his friend Ju Haknyeon who you’ve never even spoken to before, but he still does so nonetheless, every Thursday, just so he could annoy you with his only half-funny remarks to every other sentence that comes out of your Animation class professor’s mouth. 

“What are you doing this weekend?” you hear Haknyeon ask the devil sitting on your left, and trust me, you don’t really like listening to other people’s conversations (that’s a lie, you live for gossip. You just wish you knew the least amount of information about Lee Donghyuck as possible, because sometimes you learn fun facts you wish never joined your brain), but you can’t really help it this time, can you? Haknyeon doesn’t know what whispering is, and you’re convinced Donghyuck would love everyone to hear him talk and give him attention anyway. 

“Not really sure,” Donghyuck replies, “Renjun bailed on me, said he’s going to the shelter with his girlfriend again, so I was thinking, right? You know, I’d looove to go on a road trip, and it’s crazy, you know, because–”

The words coming out of his mouth instantly make you alert, snapping your head around to make eye contact with the man that’s already staring at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, knowing you’re listening to them talk. “Lee Donghyuck, I am not going on a road trip with you–”

“See, Y/N here is my personal driver for the semester, so she can’t really say no–” Donghyuck continues, enjoying the way your face distorts into a pained scowl, your hand coming up into your hair to tug at the roots in frustration.

“If you make me do this, I’m going to open your door while we’re going 120km/h on a crowded highway and throw you out so you die under the wheels of someone else and I don't face the consequences,” you propose, shaking your head in disbelief, your voice shushed due to you still not wanting to be heard by the whole classroom, but still loud enough for both of the boys to chuckle.

“Come on, I bet you’d have fun. I have the best playlists for road trips, you know,” Hyuck teases, poking you with the tip of his pen, to which you click your tongue and move a bit further away from the male. 

“The last time I drove you somewhere that was more than a 10 minute drive, you had Céline Dion on loop, so I don’t know just how believable this claim is.”

“That’s disrespectful to the legend Céline Dion is, dear Y/N, and I’d take it back before her ghost comes to haunt you at night.”

“Is she even dead in the first place?” you squint at him, at disbelief of his words.

“She’s not,” Haknyeon chimes in from the side, shaking his head at the both of you before he chuckles, “you two argue like a married couple.”

“I would rather die than to marry him–”

“See, Hak, Y/N just hasn’t realized she’s in love with me yet,” Hyuck adds, clicking his tongue at his seatmate, “but she’s gonna realize it somewhere during our 5 hour long road trip, I’m sure. Just wait, it’s gonna happen soon.”

The class gets dismissed somewhere in the middle of the argument, and as you’re gathering your things to go, you hear the two of them talk among themselves, not really including you in their conversation anymore (which you’re glad for, frankly). 

“Are you going home after class?” Haknyeon asks.

“No,” Donghyuck shakes his head in disapproval, and there it is– the shit-eating grin appears on his face when he initiates eye contact with you and snickers, “Y/N and I are actually getting fried chicken at this place downtown, since I got coupons– well, Renjun got coupons for free chicken from his uncle last week, but he doesn’t like chicken that much, so I stole them from him–”

“Huh?” you scowl at him, wondering if you heard right. “I’m not getting chicken with you.”

“Of course you are,” Hyuck announces, “the coupons expire tomorrow, so we gotta do it today. I know you’re not busy, come on.”

“I’d rather choke than to spend any more time with you than I already have today, Donghyuck. Go with Haknyeon,” you say, pointing to the clueless senior staring at the both of you in wonder.

“Yeah, go with me, man,” he shakes his head, “I like chicken.”

“Unfortunately, this offer only applies to people that have a working car that could drive me there, so in case you wanna get your shiny BMW fixed in the next 24 hours, I can save the coupons for you,” Hyuck chimes, smiling innocently at his friend.

“What are you even talking about?” you mutter, tone of voice pained.

“Look, do you wanna get out of the road trip on Saturday, or not?” he stares at you, his gaze flaming as you sigh more for him to hear than to get out your frustration– you learned long ago that it does nothing to calm you down, worse, it makes you even more infuriated.

“Woah, Donghyuck!” you exclaim, fake excitement written all over your features. “Chicken actually sounds so good right now!”

That’s how you appear in one of the fried chicken places downtown, your car parked in their tiny parking lot, with Donghyuck excitedly skipping towards the restaurant with the bunch of coupons in his hands. You don’t really know why he insists on spending time with you– he could get a bus here or drive with one of his other friends that own a car, and you’re certain you are not the only one on his list– so the whole interaction makes you slightly confused. Still, you enjoy the free meal– like any other broke college student would– and when Donghyuck eats, his mouth is usually shut, so you don’t find that many negatives in this whole thing, after all.

“What are you thinking of doing for the project, by the way?” you ask, wiping your greasy fingers on one of the napkins Hyuck had offered to you just a few seconds prior after noticing your dismay at the state of your hands. You don’t like it when you get dirty with food, but you’d rather not eat at all than to eat fried chicken with a fork, so you guess this is the price you have to pay.

“You keep talking about the project,” he shakes his head, chuckling, “don’t worry about it. I have it covered.”

“What do you mean, you have it covered? This is supposed to be teamwork. Just because I drive you around, it doesn’t mean I won’t put my hand in– you’ll complain too much if I don’t,” you mutter after you swallow, rolling your eyes at him. He keeps saying the same thing each time you ask him– you’re suspecting that he has zero idea at all, and he’s just bluffing to make you feel more comfortable. Hell, you might even fail while working with Donghyuck and your whole plan is going to be ruined, for all you know.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, grinning, “we got the theme, so half the work is already done. We’ll just have to take one day to shoot some scenes on a field or something, and then I can edit it and put some sad music over it, and we’re sold. Trust me, I am a straight A student, I know what I'm doing.”

“You are not a straight A student, Lee Donghyuck,” you glare at him, not believing a single word that's just came out of his mouth.

“Okay well,” he shrugs, taking a sip of his coca-cola that he got for free with the order, “maybe I’m not. But you can count on me with this, hon.”

Sighing to yourself, you shake your head at him. “Don’t ever call me that ever again.”

“Hyuck,” you call for the male, nestling a little in your seat and scratching the back of your neck in frustration.

“Hm?”

“You said we were going to work on the project today, am I correct?” you ask, watching as the male walks up to you from the kitchen area of the room, a bowl full of popcorn in his hand as he plops on the sofa next to you (on the only area that allows you to lay down comfortably and still face the TV, also known as the spot you’ve already laid on, making the two of you almost uncomfortably close in the small space), a bottle of coke situated under his right shoulder.

“Correct,” he nods, reaching for the TV remote he spent approximately 15 minutes searching for in between the cushions of the sofa when you arrived, screaming at his poor roommate for losing it again as the shorter boy just grimaced at you and escaped the flat to hang out with someone you heard him call RJ! y/n.

Humming to yourself, you nod. “Okay, then… why the living fuck are we watching Hunger games right now?” you ask, tone of voice laced in frustration.

Donghyuck doesn’t reply to you for a while as he fumbles with the TV remote (and frankly, you don’t really know why he’s so focused, it doesn’t take much to just press play), but when he looks back at you and sees your gaze impatiently glued to his forehead, he shrugs. “We gotta find some inspiration first, you know,” he innocently states, “Hunger games is a movie about youth if I’ve ever seen one.”

“We’ve both already seen Hunger games, Hyuck,” you whine, but take a hand-full of popcorn out of the bowl that’s currently sitting in his lap. 

“How do you know that I have seen it already?”

“You just said so, you dumb fuck,” you mutter as you roll your eyes, watching the opening credits start. You can do nothing else than settle deeper into the sofa and watch the painfully long movie with your annoying neighbor now, and you despise the fact.

Well, you could do something else. There are many things, to be exact– you could either protest so much that Donghyuck finally gives in and turns the movie off, focusing his efforts into actually working on your project. If that doesn’t work, you can fight him for the remote, but you can’t really know if that wouldn’t make him pettily give you the silent treatment, which is exactly the opposite of what you’d like to be doing right now. Or you could just give up– seeing that you’re not gonna get much work done today– and stand up and go home. It’s not like you live that far away anyways… 

But still, you stay and watch the movie with him. You’ve seen it at least three times already, having watched it recently with Aeri when the movie had its second wave of fame on Tiktok, so you’re pretty sure that if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to recite the script alongside the actors, word-for-word, 100% correct and exact, right on time. You stay and watch Hunger games with Lee Donghyuck– why exactly, you still don’t know– and you find yourself enjoying the experience. It’s not as boring when you hear your neighbor annoyingly comment on each and every little thing that happens in the movie, his nasal voice cracking jokes and jumping into the conversations as if he was a part of the cinematic universe. Somewhere along the way, you join in with him, laughing and giggling when your roleplay gets too silly, and before you know it, the movie is about to end and you’re finally going to be free to work on the project with him.

Donghyuck gets unusually quiet towards the last part of the movie. You turn your head to him, ready to crack jokes at the tears you’re expecting to see in his eyes because of the emotional outro– Katnis and Peeta’s berry scene got you the first and the second time you watched the movie, the third time not so much, since Aeri kept pausing the movie for pee breaks, ruining the full effect– only to witness the man’s head falling to your shoulder the exact second you try to lock your gaze with him; your neighbor having passed out somewhere in the middle of the movie. You foolishly jump just the slightest bit at the contact, opening your mouth to say something to him that could wake him up, your instincts telling you to move away from the already uncomfortable closeness of your bodies and give yourself more space.

But as your lips part and you’re about to protest, you notice his own lips apart in a small pout, his cheeks appearing softer now that one of them is smashed against your shoulder, his long eyelashes fanning over the bones of his cheeks. The blue hue of the TV paints his cheeks rosier in the dim light, making you notice the moles on his face for the first time– leading you to count them and mentally create constellations between them as your gaze focuses from all the different places of his face to another. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shut your mouth and awkwardly make yourself look away from your annoying neighbor, cracking the knuckles of your hands that have been resting in your lap; but when the credits of the movie roll and you have nowhere else to focus your gaze on, you find yourself scanning the man up and down again, orbs catching every detail of his suddenly so pure being.

He is wearing gray sweatpants, the fabric hanging low on his waist, a plain black tee adorning his upper figure. He doesn’t often look this casual when he comes to class, opting to wear jeans or pants more formal, so you foolishly admire the cozy fit he has going on, not quite used to seeing Donghyuck looking this homey. His clasped hands resting in his lap catch your attention next, the soft skin adorning his slender fingers looking way too inviting right now as you subconsciously want to glaze your fingertips against the surface of his palm, just to see if your suspicions are right and his skin is just as gentle as it seems to be to the eye, and you almost do it– for scientific reasons, of course– before you catch yourself and almost mentally slap yourself for being so foolish.

What the hell is going on with you right now? You should wake him up now– the movie is already over, there’s no use in you staying over any longer if he’s asleep and won’t work on the project with you anymore– but you find yourself freezing each time your eyes focus on the creature sleeping against your shoulder, so soft and comfortable it makes your insides squeeze in warmth. It’s a strange sensation, and even a stranger one to feel for a person that annoys you the most in this world, and you can't bring yourself to do anything else than to overthink the simple fact. 

He can sleep for a few more minutes. You don’t mind. He must be tired, you think– he deserves 10 more minutes, maybe even 15– you won’t disturb him. The silence is strangely comforting, after all.

He can sleep for a few more minutes, you think– but the exact moment those thoughts roam around your head again, the front door to Donghyuck’s apartment opens and his roommate stands still in the doorframe of his living room, gazing at you with suspicion in his gaze. You quickly jump away from your project partner when eye contact with Huang Renjun is made, feeling the tips of your ears heating up in shame as you scatter to your feet and scramble for your things. You feel like you were just caught red-handed, doing something you shouldn’t have been doing, and you can’t bear the thought any longer. You need to get out.

A dissatisfied noise leaves Hyuck’s mouth as he wakes up to the impact of your movement, squinted eyes watching you as Renjun just laughs at your antics, shaking his head as if to tell you that he knows something you don’t. You don’t wanna hear it.

“Where are you going?” Donghyuck asks, voice laced with sleep. 

“Home,” you snap, running your hand through your hair as you move through the door frame that separates the living room from their entrance hall. “We can’t work on the project if you’re asleep, so I might as well just go and not waste my time here any longer!” you offer him, making sure to save your face by putting just enough pretended frustration into the comment as you put on your shoes and don't look back at him– however inviting the mental image of him seems in your brain– before you shut the door after yourself and leave.

dongfuck – drive me to mcdonalds

you – well hello to you too you – no.

dongfuck – >:( dongfuck – please

you – its 2am dude

dongfuck – your point..?

Sighing, scrambling for your things as quietly as possible to not wake up your sleep deprived flatmate, you get dressed in comfortable sweatpants, throwing a hoodie on to shield yourself from the chilly air. The walk down the stairs doesn’t take you more than a few minutes before you’re standing in the parking lot of your apartment complex, already seeing Donghyuck’s figure leaning on the side of your car, almost looking like he owns it– he does act like it lately, to be fair. 

“I knew you’d come,” he snickers as you roll your eyes at him, pressing the button on your car key to unlock the doors, watching as the man swiftly opens the driver’s side for you and then jogs towards the passenger’s side to get in, an excited stride in his step.

“I’m only here because I haven’t eaten dinner and chicken nuggets sound absolutely amazing right now,” you mutter, “don’t get too ahead of yourself. None of this is for you,” you grin, fastening your seatbelt and adjusting the rearview mirror just the slightest before turning on the engine and driving off the parking lot.

Donghyuck only shakes his head at you, a bright grin playing with his features. “Of course,” he hums, “wouldn’t want me to think that you actually want to hang out for once.”

“Of course,” you nod, “because that would be a lie. My goal is chicken nuggets, nothing else. And if I manage to get them out of you for free, that’s even better.”

“Who said I’m paying?”

“The gas station clerk did when I last went to get gas, actually! He told me I’m using twice as much gas lately because I’m driving a certain dumbass around, and I’m paying for all of the gas myself, can you believe it?” you shake your head, teasing him as you turn right on the main road, already seeing the McDonald’s in the distance. 

“That’s a strange way to talk to a customer,” Donghyuck squints his eyes at you, watching as you slow down when getting into the food chain’s parking lot, ready to drive up to the drive-through window and order your late night snacks.

“At least he’s looking out for me,” you shrug, teasing the male. “I better order a hefty meal, since you’re paying and all…” you mumble, looking over the poster to your left, tapping your chin, trying to look lost in thought. 

Hearing the man next to you scoff– already satisfied with how frustrated you’ve managed to make him– you pretend to look over the most expensive parts of the menu. “I’m starting to regret my decision,” Donghyuck adds, but the tone in his voice is light.

After a few more minutes of picking out your menu, you both order your meals and wait for them at the window. It doesn’t take long, since you’re the only ones in the whole place, and before you know it, Donghyuck is pressing his card into your palm, nudging you to pay for both of your meals. The gesture should be expected– you pretty much plastered him into doing this with how much you teased and complained– but it still shocks you when he does it with no other annoyed comments, watching as you offer it to the cashier and smile at him in thanks, taking the bags of food and driving off into the very back of the whole parking lot, turning the engine off and settling into the dark.

You tug your feet up to your seat, sitting crossed-legged in the small space as you face your companion, watching as he offers you the bag of food and digs into his own fries as well, scanning you from the corner of his eye. Now is the time you finally get to admire his attire for the first time the whole night– you never knew you had a thing for guys in sweatpants and oversized jackets, but the way your breathing almost catches in your throat at the sight of Donghyuck dressed so cozily again should be enough of a warning for you to the future. Forcefully taking your eyes off the male next to you, because you’d rather not think about the way you find yourself eyeing him lately, you eat your chicken nuggets– the ones you’ve dreamed of the whole night– and listen to the sound of your neighbor chewing on his burger. 

Feeling his eyes on you, you glare at him. “What are you staring at?”

“No take a picture, it will last longer this time?” 

“I learned my lesson from the last time,” you laugh, reminded of one of the first interactions you had with the male. “I hope you deleted the pictures, by the way.”

“No, I stare at them every night before I go to sleep,” he says, “so I’ll dream of you,” he sing-songs, laughing at the way your face distorts in discomfort at his words.

“Ah, so annoying,” you roll your eyes at him, but can’t battle the way your heart jumps a little at the sound of a laugh escaping his throat. Your eyes automatically trace his movements, noticing the way the far standing lamp post illuminates his face in just the right way, casting orange shadows over his features, making his eyes glimmer when they catch yours. Clearing your throat after being caught staring at him, you avert your gaze and finish the last of your fries, noticing the male done with his meal as well. 

“Now what?” he asks.

“We go home, what else?” you laugh, shaking your head at his question.

“But I don’t wanna go home yet,” he whines, and you already know what’s coming– pursuing, weird ideas, absurd arguments just to make you stay longer. And you’re immune to them on most days, but it’s too late in the night, so you have to cut yourself some slack. So what if you don’t want to come back yet either? It’s not a crime to want to spend some time with Lee Donghyuck.

“What a shame,” still, you tease, waiting for him to come up with a bright idea that you could use as an excuse to stay out longer.

“Oh come on,” Donghyuck mutters, “you always ruin the fun. Teach me how to drive, what do you say?”

Shocked at his preposition, you turn to him again, wide eyes and mouth agape. “What? Absolutely not.”

“Why? The parking lot’s empty. I can’t possibly be that bad that I crash your car into nothing. Come on!” he pleads, going even as far as pouting at you– not really knowing that the expression has you shamefully stare at his lips for a split second, insides heating up– and realistically, you should have warning signs blinking at you from everywhere in your brain, an alarm going off to tell you that this is not a good idea at all, but you’re too stunned to come up with another plan for the rest of your evening, and, well, you may be getting a little weak for the annoying gemini. He's right, though– what could possibly go wrong? 

So you only sigh in response, opening the door and getting out of your seat, watching as Donghyuck excitedly mirrors your motions and jogs to the driver’s seat, ready to possibly ruin your evening and your car at the same time. When you’re back safe inside of the car, you quickly fasten your seatbelt, a sign of your sense of self preservation still working well, watching Donghyuck move your seat further back so he can comfortably reach the pedals. His focused face is in your full view as he adjusts all the mirrors possible, and only then is when you notice him chewing on the inside of his cheek– in either nerves or concentration, you can’t really tell right now– and the sight makes you halt him in his motions before he manages to start the engine.

“Have you ever done this before?” you ask, watching as he turns to you with wide eyes, shaking his head in disagreement.

“No,” he peeps, laughing to himself, “Yangyang declined me the last time I asked.”

“Yeah, because he has a working brain,” you whisper under your breath, still in disbelief of what you allowed to happen, “so… can you reach the pedals?”

“I can.”

“And you see the whole back window in this mirror, right?” you ask, pointing to the rearview mirror, watching as Donghyuck nods.

“Positive.”

“Great. So… start the engine now, I guess?” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you see him nod and reach for the keys, turning them. The car instantly comes alive right in front of him all while Hyuck seems  absolutely clueless, looking at you with big, adorable eyes, and you take it as your cue to instruct him on his next moves.

“Now press the clutch– the far left pedal– and move the gear stick into the first gear,” you say, watching as the boy slowly does as you say, reaching for the device and moving it to the desired place. “Good. Now, keep pressing the clutch and slowly start pressing the accelerator– the far right pedal– while also slowly letting go of the clutch until you get to the point where the car starts moving on itself. That’s when you don’t let go of the clutch, but keep it at that same exact spot, and put a bit more acceleration until the wheels spin like, once or twice. Only then can you keep your leg off the clutch.” 

“You’re kinda hot when you tell me what to do,” Hyuck mumbles, but the flirting doesn’t quite come through when his face is focused at the road and his composure seems shaken, too stressed out to actually mean the words coming out of his mouth.

“Shut up and do what I said,” you snarl, seeing as the man nods and tries moving with the car. It takes him some time, but it seems that he is a natural– the car moves without the engine dying, and suddenly, you find yourself cheering him on. “Good! Good! You’re moving!”

“Oh. My. God.” 

“Don’t panic!”

“I’m not panicking!” Hyuck hums, nodding to himself as he turns the wheel and makes a circle around the parking lot, grinning to himself with confidence. The car moves painfully slowly, and you, despite your best interest, find yourself enjoying the view– although you should probably be more worried about your own safety than you currently are. That's when you decide to challenge the male further.

“Okay, then we can shift into the second gear, it’s gonna go a little smoother,” you muse, seeing as the male nods.

His eyes stay focused on the road, though, so you take it as your cue to instruct him again. “Press on the clutch then, and move the gear stick straight down.”

“Mhm,” he hums, and presses on the clutch, but the struggle comes next as his hand flies all over the car, not quite used to the placement of the gear stick yet. Stressed, eyes glued to the road in front of him to not run into any possible obstacles in your way, he refuses to look away for even a second, and the whole sight makes your heart race in anxious agony as you reach for his hand and grip it, guiding him towards the stick and placing his palm on top of the device.

Your hold on his hand doesn’t loosen up as you guide his movements further and do it for him, just to make sure the stick really gets to its designated place and doesn't get stuck in neutral, which would make the engine die with the next press of the accelerator. His skin is soft under your touch, just like you imagined it to be, and you find yourself growing hotter the more your skin is in contact with his, the touch so innocent yet still sending you to overdrive.

“Now let go of the clutch,” you order, eyes glued to the side of Donghyuck’s head as he nods, listening to everything you say. The car now goes more smoothly and you watch him take another lap around the parking lot before you realize your hand is still gripping his on the gear stick, the information making you jump slightly in your place, clearing your throat in the awkward, tense atmosphere you managed to create for yourself.

“Okay,” you announce, “the trial is over, it’s time to press the brake– the middle pedal, if you haven't figured that out so far– and get out of my place,” you say, hoping the tone of your voice sounds as light as usual. 

The car comes to a strong halt, since Hyuck doesn’t really know how fast the brakes react yet, and if you weren’t buckled in, it’s certain that you’d go flying in your seat and smash your head against the dashboard. Breathing out when the car stills, you finally feel yourself relax, having been alert this whole time, as you squeeze Donghyuck’s hand for the last time, amidst selfishly, before you let go of it and turn towards the door, opening it and thanking the chilly air of the night for slapping you to your face. You really needed that wake up call.

Do you really need to drive a fucking manual? 

hyuck – can you drive me to yangyangs at 8

Staring at the text message on your phone, sighing to yourself at the weird discomfort in your stomach when it appears and registers in your brain, the sound catches attention of your roommate Aeri currently getting ready on the floor of your room, pressed almost uncomfortably close to the mirror. She should really wear the glasses she was prescribed.

“Donghyuck again?” she asks, staring at you through the mirror, a mischievous grin sitting on her face as she asks the crucial question.

“How’d you know?” you roll your eyes in irony, walking over to your closet and picking out your tonight’s outfit.

“Well,” she shrugs, “one, he’s like, the only person that ever texts you except for me, and two, you had that disgustingly doe eyed look on your face.”

“I so did not–”

“You so did,” she notes, putting another coat of mascara onto her long eyelashes.

“You know what? I regret telling you about this,” you mourn, scrambling for your things around your room and putting them into your bag, practically already ready to leave the apartment alongside your roommate slash best friend. When you came home last week after the McDonald’s run at 4 in the morning, you decided that sleep really wasn’t worth it anymore– as if you could fall asleep after the hotness in your whole body despite your window being wide open– and so you took a cold shower and decided to stay up in the living room, watching Netflix (more like having the show in the background as you tried hard to not have a mental breakdown at the newly found information about yourself). Aeri found you like that at 6 in the morning when she woke up to get a glass of water, and even though she was sleepy and groggy– which was probably why you decided to spill the beans so quickly– she interrogated you about the weird look on your face and it’s been a running joke between her and herself for the whole week.

“It’s really not my fault that you find our neighbor hot,” she notes, shrugging to herself.

“When did I say that? When did I say that!” 

“Well, you said you came home all flushed and that you imagined making out with him when you dropped him off back home, so that’s basically the same thing.” 

“I did not say I wanted to make out with him!” you defend yourself. You didn’t say it. You thought about it, that’s for sure, but your roommate really doesn’t have to know that. Unless she can read your thoughts, of course.

“Yeah, whatever. You and I both know it’s true.” 

Sighing, deciding that you’re ending the conversation with your roommate as long as the topic is your annoying neighbor, you turn to your phone and finally reply to his text message.

you – can’t

He replies almost instantly, as if he was waiting at his phone for the last 15 minutes, and the predictableness of his message almost makes you chuckle.

hyuck – why

you – cuz im going you – and i wanna drink you – so i cant drive

hyuck – ok that changes things then hyuck – my original mission was to get you to go there with me but this has to do i suppose hyuck – see you there ;)

Yes, you admit that you reread the messages a little too many times for your own liking. Trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind his words, you swear your brain is running a thousand miles an hour, and realistically, this is the part where you reach for your girl best friend and ask her what exactly is happening in the chat with you and the guy you’re talking to, but after the endless teasing you’ve already heard from her side, you decide against it and just turn off your screen and put the phone into your bag with the rest of your necessities.

“If you mention something about this tonight in front of Donghyuck, I’m locking you out of the apartment.”

“Ay ay, captain!”

The journey to Liu Yangyang’s house isn’t long. He’s the only one that still lives with his parents, but you can’t really blame him– the house is huge, and they are hardly ever home, because they are always on business trips in Taiwan. Half the time, it’s like the guy owns the place, and he also acts like it too, since half of the parties you’re invited to in a year are taking place at his house. 

When you get there, it seems that everyone was already there– at least the usual group, you suppose. You don’t know who else is invited, but when you arrive to Yangyang’s basement– the part of the house where he usually hosts the more chill, laid-back parties, with low music in the background, laughter resonating through the place and alcohol being passed around between people drinking straight out of the bottles– your eyes instantly zero on Donghyuck, dressed in a light bomber jacket and skin tight jeans, you decide that burning your throat with alcohol is the best thing you can do instead of audibly moaning at the sight.

Taking one of the opened bottles of Bacardi off the little camping table situated near the corner of the big room, you take a swig, not really caring about the people who have drank out of it before you– because the pandemic has taught you nothing, it seems– when you finally walk over to the group and say your greetings. Deciding that avoiding the object of your desire for the whole evening is the best plan how to survive without doing something you’re going to regret, you engage in conversation with pretty much everyone else, completely unaware of the way your neighbors eyes are burning a hole through the side of your skull, kind of offended that you haven’t come up to him first, since as far as he’s concerned, out of all the people present in the room, you spend the most time with him in the first place (with the exception of Aeri, of course, but you two live together, so it doesn't really count). In his opinion, you didn’t need to be talking to Na Jaemin right now– you’re not even friends with the man.

But still– drinking beer out of a bottle Lee Jeno passes you somewhere in the middle of the night before he disappears with his best friend to dance with them under the cigarette haze (pretty embarrassingly, you may add) – the only thing resonating through your brain is that you got this, you’re not gonna give him a single glance, you’re not gonna think about how attractive he looks in all black.

You guess that everything about the way this evening has been going is the prime example of every single college kid’s usual Friday. Sitting in a basement of Liu Yangyang’s house, your vision cloudy with a bit of alcohol and also the sweet, piney smoke of the joint that’s been passed around the room only a few minutes prior, music lowly plays in the background, adding a relaxed, yet exciting and bubbling atmosphere to it all– it’s the epitome of the experience you imagine before you go to college when you’re 15 and gazing longingly outside of your window, wondering if life when you’re older will be better and more fun.

And while you don’t necessarily think life is better now– you do have a shitton of assignments to do and stress eating up your insides– you do think it’s kind of fun. Everything is more bearable when you have a group of friends by your side, and while you wouldn’t call every single person in this room right now your closest friend– a friend for life, even– you’d say everything is better than being stuck in your house on a Friday evening, mourning the break up of One Direction one more time as you watch This is us again with spoonfuls of ice cream shoveled into your mouth, figure cuddled up under the blanket with your roommate by your side.

The fun only lasts until a round of Truth or dare takes place, though. You must admit that it’s the fundamental part of the whole hang out, and yes, it’s the thing you always see in the movies. It adds a bit of spice to it all and it’s twice as fun to play when you’re a little intoxicated, but still– you’d like to think you’re too old for the game now, even though your friends believe otherwise and never fail to bring it up again.

This time, it’s Jaemin who brings it up. You shoot daggers to his skull, annoyed eyes and all, but you don’t think he notices as he continues to excitingly sway his arms in the air when he repeats the submission over and over again, finally heard by his roommate Jeno that’s just come back from the weird dancing session with his best friend that he’s very obviously pining over, and grins at his roommate in agreement, starting the game. 

“Not again,” you whine audibly, because frankly, if you wanted to survive the evening with no embarrassment and no weird thoughts about one of the party guests, you don’t think a game of Truth or dare is your best move. Your disgust makes your own roommate– that’s suddenly glued to your side, too tipsy to even walk (you heard her exclaim that her legs are too heavy to be used)– giggle, already familiar with your thoughts on the game. And frankly, that makes you even more terrified– because when Aeri is drunk, she talks even more than she does when she’s sober, and well, there’s no promising that all of the information you’ve ever shared with her will stay truly confidential when she’s under the influence.

“Don’t start again,” she says, shaking her head, “you always say you hate it, but you always end up playing it anyway.”

She’s right. It’s not like anyone is pressuring you, but you kind of feel like the situation calls for you to join in– because what else are you supposed to do, watch them? There’s no fun in watching if you’re not involved, and you’d feel like an intruder if you just watched them do all sorts of dares while not being in on the game. 

“Yeah, because you’d all whine if I didn’t,” you say instead, taking a sip of your drink, letting the bitter taste of beer slide down your throat as she rolls her eyes at you, nudging you in your side with her elbow.

“Just say you end up having fun,” she snickers, “nobody would think that’s weird, you know.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” you shush her and pet her hair, taking advantage of the fact that you’re very obviously less tipsy than her, as you turn to the middle of the circle and wait for the game to start.

Usually, a couple of rounds pass before your name is called. You enjoy the tension– it feels like you have time to prepare to do whatever task their hazed minds come up with or answer whatever question that’s been burning on their tongue, yet, it also feels like a buildup before the big thing– a strange sense of climax, if you will. 

This time, it’s no different. A couple of minutes pass as you watch Yangyang lick the bottom of Jaemin’s foot– because Jeno always likes to come up with the nastiest, most worrying dares of them all– followed by the sight of Shotaro kissing the forehead of the most attractive guy in the circle (Renjun wasn’t happy with the wet peck left on his skin). The guys almost always pick a dare, and you think that’s an advantage, since before it’s your turn to finally participate in the game, they run out of ideas for dares that are possible to do in the weed-smelling basement of Liu Yangyang’s house and you can safely choose truth instead. It’s not like you’re not brave enough to choose dare– you did so many times before and never once backed away from the task, not even when you were dared to kiss the person on your right (that was the night you learned Kim Sunwoo wasn’t all that, because the drunken peck he pressed to your lips wasn’t all that appealing) – you just simply tried to pick the safest strategy for the game. 

Another kissing dare could suggest that you kiss the person you find the most attractive in the room right now. Or they could ask you for a lap dance on one of the guys. The possibilities are endless, and even though choosing the truth isn’t that much safer, since their questions could vary all the way from ‘What’s the color of your underwear right now?’ to ‘What is your favorite sex position?’, you’re trying to comfort yourself with the fact that you could just lie. You know it’s kind of prohibited, and that it also defeats the whole purpose of the game, but still– you’re not planning on embarrassing yourself tonight, and you were always a pretty good liar when it came to words. Actions? Not that much.

Sinked deep in the stained light orange fabric of the sofa, eyes half-lidded, you await Jaemin’s question as you tell him you did indeed pick the truth. And you were right, there are no protests coming out of the boys’ mouths this time around, seemingly tired of coming up with original ideas for their dares. 

“Come on, man, we don’t have the whole day,” Renjun nudges the boy into his ribs, annoyed with the lack of words from his friend. 

“Actually, we do. I don’t see the issue-”

“Just ask something already!” Shotaro whines from his position on the floor, his back pressed against the side of the sofa.

“Fine,” the man straightens up in his position, as if struck by a newly found sense of clarity, the look on Na Jaemin’s face reeking of insanity, “I've got something.” 

The room cautiously looks at the platinum-haired boy sitting on the floor, his back resting against an armchair in the corner of the room as he blinks a few times, seconds passing, yet there’s still nothing coming out of his mouth. 

“Are you gonna say something, or will you continue to act all dramatic…?” Jeno snickers, making his roommate roll his eyes at the jab, finally breaking the silence.

You’d argue that he just forgot what he wanted to say– with how Jaemin gets when he’s drunk, it wouldn’t be half surprising– but it seems like his roommate knows him better than you do, because the man speaks up fast, and suddenly, you take back all your impatient thoughts that urged him to ask you something already, because the question takes you by surprise and leaves you in shock, staring wide eyed and speechless.

“If you had to have sex with anyone in this room, who would you choose?” 

You no longer wish he took longer to ask you the question. No, you wish he would’ve sent it to you telepathically, so you could prepare your answer beforehand. You’d save yourself a lot of trouble– being met with the gaze of everyone, looking at you as they await your answer is truly not helping you with the difficult task of responding to the truth, when in reality, you don’t think you can manage to even say anything.

Because truthfully, if you were asked this question at any time prior to the weird situation you found yourself in with Donghyuck– who’s, just by the way, still present in the room, but more quiet that usual, which you shamefully notice and worry about on your insides, but don’t mention out loud– you’d think that you wouldn’t have sex with anyone in this room. It may be hard to believe– even though the men in this room aren’t the sexsymbols they often think they are– but that's the sheer reality.

But now? You feel like the truth is written all over your face, you feel like everyone can see right inside of your head and read the words straight out of your brain. It’s embarrassing. You feel ashamed.

Looking around the space, shiteating grins meeting all of their expressions, you shrug and finally get some words out, hoping they satisfy their needs for an answer. 

“No one,” you say, praying you sound confident. 

“Yeah, no-”

“Oh, come on-” 

“That’s a lie-”

Multiple voices cut into your confession, all in disbelief. If this isn’t the proof of their impressively big egos, you don’t know what is. All of them now staring at you with furrowed eyebrows, not believing a single word that’s just came out of your mouth, you start to wonder about how to convince them that you are, indeed, telling the truth, even though you’re obviously aren’t, so you don’t have to take a shot of whatever liquid the host of the party has hidden in the closet of his basement as a punishment.

“I’m serious! I’ve never looked at any of you and thought, ‘yea, I’d let him get it’,” you shrug, taking a nervous sip of the beer in your hold again.  

“Okay, but if you had to? Like, imagine someone is holding your mother captive and telling you they’re gonna kill her if you don’t have sex with anyone in this room. Who are you choosing?” Jeno squints at you, and you’re starting to believe that the man just wants you to pick him. 

“I’d have sex with Aeri,” you muse, pointing a finger to her as she’s leeching to your right shoulder, snickering.

“That’s a cop out!”

“Look, man, I don’t find anyone here hot, okay?” you shake your head at the commotion, grinning to yourself to seem more believable. And with how they roll their eyes and sigh to themselves, you think it’s working. There’s a premature feeling of relief in your insides, thinking that you’ve done it, you haven’t exposed yourself, before you hear your roommate mumble from her slumber, making your heart drop deep down into your own fucking asshole.

“Not even Hyuck?” 

Slowly spinning your head towards her, the tight smile on your face suggesting that you’re going to kill her in under approximately five seconds if she doesn’t take back what she said, you’re painfully aware of the fact that everyone’s staring at you now, grinning to themselves with a look that says they believe that Aeri knows something they don’t– she’s your best friend, after all– and you realize that you’re going to have a hard time getting out of this one. 

You should’ve expected this the moment you saw her drink that much. Maybe you should’ve stayed home today. The information about Lee Donghyuck was still too fresh in her brain to not mention when she has some to drink– you understand, in a way. At least, you’re trying to understand.

“Fuck no,” you grunt out, furrowing your eyebrows in the best acting performance you’ve managed to put on since your theatre kid days. You don’t think you’re convincing anyone, though. You’re not even convinced.

“Was that my name I heard?” 

And again, your heart drops at the familiar tone coming from the place straight opposite of you, the place that’s very obviously in your point of view, yet you’ve been successfully avoiding the whole evening to not seem as obvious to everyone that the very man has been occupying your every thought for the last week or two. You realize this is the first time he’s spoken to you this evening, if you’re not counting the text messages you exchanged before you got here, and something about the fact makes you shiver.

Meeting his eyes, because it’s the natural thing to do when someone speaks to you, you mentally curse and feel your heartbeat quickening at the grin sitting on his face. Eyes roaming his body– all against your will–  you notice the comfortable way he’s sitting on the armchair in front of you, legs parted wide and his thighs on full display, hair a little messy and eyes glossed over and blown out, since he smoked just a few minutes prior to the game, making you realize just how painfully he resembles someone who just had a long make-out session; the thought automatically leading you to think of the fact that you’d like to have a make-out session with him right now, and wow, his thighs do look inviting to sit down on.

“You wish,” you spit instead, still wanting to save the situation. Averting your gaze from him to keep yourself sane, you choose to focus on the floor instead, heat rising to the tips of your ears. 

“I mean, it seems more like you do,” he grins, the whole group snickering at the sudden quarrel in between the two of you. Your conversation suddenly reminds you of the ones you had with him before the two of you started properly talking, and something about the confident smirk on his face makes you remember just how annoying you’ve always found him whenever you encountered him at this very place. You’re back to square one for a minute, with your defensive remarks, similar to the way you used to quarrel with him before, and the familiarity engulfs you like a warm blanket.

“Your confidence amuses me,” you bite back, choosing to look at him as you say it to add more impact to your words; your decision seems to only worsen the things for you, though. The conversation admittedly sounds a little too much like flirting, and the way you notice him clutching the can of beer in his hand only makes you more flushed under his gaze.

“You don’t seem amused.”

“That’s because the idea of having sex with you makes me want to leave this room,” you grunt, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“I’ll take you home if you’d like,” he winks at you. Alarm sound goes off in your mind, your hands clammy as you run them through your hair, and suddenly, you’re on fight or flight. And if you can’t escape the situation, you decide to choose the latter– throwing him the most jabbing remark you can think of at this moment, fighting to keep your dignity.

“On a bike, or something?” you snicker. “As if I’d let a guy without a licence fuck me. You know that’s below my standards, Hyuck.”

An amused gasp is heard in the room when this remark leaves your mouth. The main source of the noise is Liu Yangyang, the host himself, since he likes to laugh at times when it’s the least socially acceptable. 

Now, you know that there are only a few things in which men value their social status; one of them being the amount of girls in their bed, the next one their rank in League of Legends, and lastly, their cars. And while Lee Donghyuck is known to be quite the player when it comes to the first thing in the list of social ranking between guys (or at least you’ve heard so from the girls in the locker room in the past years. Not like you were listening to their conversations whenever his name was mentioned… you just have very good hearing) and he was known to be the one that carries the team whenever any game on Yangyang’s PS5 is played in the dimly-lit basement on nights much like this one, there was something always setting him back in the neat ranking, and that something was the state of his car. 

Why? You guessed it– he doesn’t have a car. Or a licence.

To be quite frank, by the expression on Donghyuck’s face– all wide eyes and mouth agape in shock– you hit him right when it hurts, the grin falling off his face when he takes a sip of the beer in his hand, seemingly to chase down the taste of being put in his place and to have something to do to not seem as awkward and embarrassed as he must be feeling right now. 

You feel victorious, in a way– you managed to mask your very obvious sexual frustration caused by the man, while also managing to rile him up with your comment, which is definitely a first in your dynamic– adrenaline rushing through your blood as you look at him with expecting eyes, awaiting his response. The rest of the crowd laughs at your remark, only fueling the joy you feel when he suddenly averts his gaze from you, licking his lips for only a millisecond (yet it doesn’t get unnoticed by your eyes) before he snickers again, shrugging.

“Okay then,” he grunts, pressing the tip of his tongue to the inside of his cheek in annoyance, “you won.”

You know what? Once he admits to it, the feeling of victory quickly fades. Watching his frustrated face, eyebrows furrowed as he looks everywhere but at your face, suddenly, you choose to drown yourself in the rest of the beer in your bottle, relieved when you notice the game progressing without you. 

You won, he says, but you don't feel like you did. Quite the opposite, actually. You feel a tad bit defeated. 

You managed to lie to the crowd, but the very obvious pit in your stomach reminds you that you can’t lie to yourself– and now, bear with me as I say something cheesy, yet true– because even though Lee Donghyuck can’t drive, he’s still very successful at driving you crazy.

You feel like the universe is punishing you for every little, smallest thing you’ve ever done wrong in your life. You feel like whatever force is there that’s making this world go around, absolutely, completely, wholeheartedly hates, despises you, and won’t have mercy on you as you’re left dealing with the text message shining on your phone screen four days after the party, at 8 in the evening. 

hyuck – drive me to a date hyuck – please ig 

Sighing, one, two, three times, you chew on the bottom of your lip as your eyes scan over the messages, and something about the very few words makes your stomach turn and twist in an emotion you’d describe as a weird mix of disgust and shock as you mentally try to come up with a reply. And it’s hard.

It’s difficult, because you hate it, you hate it, you hate it– the way Lee Donghyuck just managed to score himself a date only four days after your ever so growing sexual frustration has started to see the light of the day, you hate the way he’s asking you to drive him there– as if to show you that he still has it, that you’re wrong, and that even though he has no car and no license to boost in front of other girls, they still want him and you’re about to witness it as you drive him there. 

And you hate it so much you start to think you’re going to chew on your own fist and throw a rock through your own window, but you strive hard not to show it. And is there a better way to seem unaffected in this situation than to comply with him? If you weren’t so jealous about the whole thing, you’d surely just make fun of him and do it, no questions asked– a friendly favor, or something. And so you do it. Like it’s nothing.

you – ok text me when you’re ready 

After a few minutes, you end up sitting in your car, hands on the wheel ready to turn (and run into the nearest car out of pure rage, possibly), waiting for Lee Donghyuck to appear on the passenger’s seat, all dolled up and dumped in cologne, presumably– and that’s exactly what happens when the door swings open and your nose is filled with his usual smell but somehow amplified, and you catch a glimpse of his leather jacket and the shirt tucked into his black jeans. You don’t outright look at him– because you’re still trying really hard not to show all of your inner thoughts on your face– and so you only turn on the engine and hum at him, already making your way out of the parking lot.

“Where are you going, then?” you ask, tone of voice completely unbothered and not too stingy or tight. “And I’m just dropping you off this time, right? Because I won’t sit there and watch you have a date and wait to drop both of you back,” you say, playing with the car radio and trying to find a station that would both satisfy your need to tune out your thoughts with a good song and the need to do something with your fingers to seem occupied.

“Of course not,” he snickers, “wouldn’t do that to poor you. And just go the way I tell you. Now turn left at the end of the street.”

Sighing to yourself at his orders, you do your best at driving your neighbor to his date while trying to ignore just how ridiculous this whole situation is. You should’ve said no back when he first asked you to be his personal driver for the semester– failing Film theory class doesn’t seem like such a bad thing in your eyes now, when you look at the situation in retrospect.

“Can’t believe you have to be dropped off at your own date and you still pull bitches,” you shake your head in disbelief, hoping, praying you seem annoyed because of your duties and not because you’d much rather have him staying in so you could catch a glimpse of him in his window, crouched down in the blue light of his room (yes, he has neon lights in his room. Yes, you teased him about it countless of times before) as he plays League of Legends or stays up on a discord call with his friends, playing Minecraft.

“See? You’re missing out,” he chuckles, shrugging to himself. 

“As if I’d ever go on a date with you,” you huff, moving to turn the volume of the radio higher so you don’t have to make small talk with him anymore, agitated, yet completely ignoring the fact that it was you who brought it up in the first place.

Hyuck moves his slender fingers along the knob of the radio and tunes the volume back down, and you’re eager to repeat your previous steps just to anger him and also so you don’t have to listen to his sneaky, egoistical remarks for any longer, when you hear him tell you the next directions and you realize that you still indeed need to hear Donghyuck’s voice, or else you’re not gonna be able to drop him off at his destination and drive away as fast as humanly possible.

The terrain around you starts to look more stranded. There are more trees than buildings in your sight, lampposts decreasing in amount as you drive further away from the city center, and only when you pass the sign that tells you that you just left the town you speak up again, now truly concerned.

“Where the fuck are you taking your date, man? To the middle of the woods?” you huff. “Is she meeting you there?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he laughs, shaking his head at your furrowed brows. Something about his casual composure makes your nerves tick off and goosebumps appear all over your body, as if you were sensing danger, when you sigh out heavily in frustration and turn to look at him for only a split second, eyes meeting with his. 

“Or are you making me drive to another fucking state, you fucker? I don’t have that much gas right now, you dumb ass–”

“We’re almost there, don’t worry,” he rolls his eyes at you, pointing somewhere into the distance again. “Just turn right there and drive up the hill.”

“Up the fucking hill?” you repeat, concerned.

“I told you to not worry about it,” Hyuck hums, settling deeper into the car seat, letting you battle your own thoughts as you follow his orders and drive up the hill for him, praying no deer decides to jump onto the road and total your car right now. 

“I worry about the girl that agreed to go on a date with you, Donghyuck,” you mutter, “I’ll tell you that, she clearly doesn’t have everything alright in the brain, because this is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he swats your worries away with a swing of his arm, pointing towards a place that extends out of the main road– if you can even call it that, since no cars are passing through the hill ever, much more in these hours of the day– and tells you that you can park the car there. 

And you do as you’re told, despite your never-ending complaining– that’s the dynamic you have with Lee Donghyuck, it seems. 

Stopping the car out of the main road, your car shielded from one side by a row of trees, you step on the break and look at the man to your right in question, the engine still running. “Is this it? Is this the place?”

“Yeah,” he nods, a grin slowly starting to play with his features. Something isn’t right– you feel it in your bones and see it in his eyes, but you can’t quite put your finger on it, still utterly confused and in the dark about everything. “Come on, get out of the car.”

He wastes no time in unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out of the vehicle, his figure circling the car as he leans on the hood, turned away from you and seemingly waiting for you to follow his actions. Confused, figuring that you can’t do much more about the situation right now– where the fuck is his date? Why are we on the top of a hill? Will his date show up? – all swimming around your brain, you hop out and find his warm being, standing one step ahead of him and staring at him with stern, frustrated eyes.

“Look, isn’t it pretty?” he asks, pointing somewhere behind you. It takes everything in you to turn and gaze at the sight in front of you, your heart still weak and angrily beating against your ribcage, but you do as you’re ordered, eyes bearing into the view. 

The whole town is stretching out right below you. Now that you’ve turned the engine off and your headlights have gone out, you see the lights even better, shielded by a blanket of stars glimmering above the horizon, and you can’t help but gasp out in the beauty of it all. This place makes you want to take a picture, so you can remember how you felt while standing here and admiring the city forever– so you can remember how you felt while standing next to Donghyuck, heart foolishly drumming against your ribcage– and you suddenly realize just how badly you despise the fact that he showed this to you just to send you off while he waits for his date, as if to show you everything you could have if you went out with him, even though the question was never even on the table in the first place.

Clearing your throat, you turn to him, eyes glazing his side profile. “Where’s your date? Is she turning up? I don’t think it’s safe to make her–”

“My date’s already here,” he hums, nodding to himself. 

This does nothing to clear out the fog of confusion from in front of your eyes. “Huh? Where?”

“Here,” he repeats. The word has you wearily looking around yourself, furrowed brows and all– and that only makes the man chuckle at your antics, low voice cutting out of his throat making its way straight to the bottom of your stomach. “There’s no one else here. Just us. And no one else is coming, so will you chill out and enjoy our date, finally?” he asks, locking his gaze with you in a lazy, yet attractive manner that has your hands shaking and your brain instantly panicking.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you process his words for a few seconds, doing mental acrobatics and racking your brain in thought. Nothing helps. “Our date?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah, no,” you giggle out in awkwardness, feeling unarmed and like somebody’s just dunk a bucket of hot water over you. Shaking your head, you try hard to mask the way you’re feeling on the inside right now, because what are you even feeling right now? As you do some unreadable gestures with your arms as a way of declining and canceling everything that’s happening right now. “Us? A date? Yeah, not happening–” 

You mumble out, ready to escape the situation as fastly and as efficiently as you can while you try to make your way back inside of the car, not really thinking of the journey home you’re about to have to make with him on the passenger’s seat, when a hand grips your wrist, making you stop in your tracks. You take a few steps away from him nonetheless, and the man soon follows you before your body is swiftly turned against your car, the small of your back coming in contact with the driver’s door. Your breathing is quick when the man hovers above you, and you don’t feel danger– you just feel a bit panicked at the way tonight’s playing out. A date? You wouldn’t have thought of this in your most insane dreams.

“Why are you trying to run away?” he asks, his hand still holding your wrist, his fingers firm, yet gentle on your skin.

“Because– um– because-” you stutter, eyes instantly meeting his– regret pooling in the bottom of your stomach when you realize the proximity of his gaze, something tense bundling up in your insides, “this is ridiculous, Donghyuck, you can’t just–”

“I can’t just?” he tempts you, eyebrows rising to make you continue.

“You can’t just lure me into a date with you, that’s not how this works–”

“Would you go if I asked, then?”

“No, of course not!” you shake your head at him, tone of voice a few octaves higher than usual. Your eyes scan over your companion, his face reflecting the moonlight, and you find yourself counting the moles on his cheeks and noticing his sped-up breathing, automatically matching it despite not realizing it yourself. 

“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a driving license, or because you’re just scared to admit that you’re attracted to me?” he challenges you, quirking up his brows at you in tension. 

Something about it makes you lose all the air in your lungs. He’s so close now you swear the scent of his cologne has made you drugged up, since you can’t seem to take your eyes off his lips for the next few seconds, completely in trance and electrified, and before you know it, you’re a blubbering mess, too lost in everything that is him to come up with something coherent. “That’s- that’s just not-”

He laughs at you, he snickers, as those words escape your mouth, not even a full sentence. You bet it’s enough of a confirmation for him that you’ve officially lost all control– you can’t seem to get out a teasing remark like you usually can, no smart words calculated and thrown his way to scatter down his ego, and you think he realizes that he won. You’re defenseless, you’re weak, and you really want to make out with him right now.

Which he might have sensed out of the way you’ve been yearningly staring at his lips the whole exchange. Still, he mumbles out a small “Stop me now if you don’t want this,” just to be completely sure.

And you don’t. You don't stop him when he leans in and captures your lips with his. You’d be a fool to.

His lips crash against yours with a fever-like pace, the tension that’s been building up between the two of you making itself known in the hurried motions of your lips. His kiss is deep, hands cradling your cheeks as he angles you to lock your lips with his better, not a hint of shyness or hesitance in his motions. Your fingers shakily grasp at the front of his shirt, trying to steady yourself when each motion of his mouth against yours leaves your knees weaker and weaker, your body pressed harder against the car door.

He tastes of mint, making you suspect he planned this and chewed on a gum before meeting you, and when his teeth gently pulls at your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from you, his tongue is left exploring the inside of your mouth, making you grow hotter and hotter under his ministrations. Your hands occupy themselves as they finally let go off his shirt and sneak around his small waist, pulling him closer, and you swear that you’ve never experienced a kiss that would leave you so eager for more before, a kiss that would leave you so weak and open for anything that’s about to happen– as if you were already naked and bare, a puddle in his palms. 

You’re soon left out of breath, gasping for air when he pulls away from you, and his kisses turn into pecks left on your lips, open mouthed kisses slowly trailing to the corner of your mouth and down your jaw, lips hungrily attaching to your neck, his nose glazing the soft skin as if to smell your scent and ingrave it into his memory. Something inside of you unties and makes you lose all of your control, finally falling fully into the sensation of the novelty of making out with Lee Donghyuck against your car, and you find your hands tying themselves into his hair, tugging at the roots when he finds the soft spot on the crevice of your shoulder that makes you squirm, and you suddenly know what all the girls in the locker rooms were talking about. Each action of his has you gasping for air, eyes pressing shut in the blissfulness of it all– the bites he leaves on your neck, smoothing them down with kitten licks each time surely leaving bruises, making your insides light up with the acts of possession.

“Hyuck–” you gasp, his mouth sucking into another spot on your neck, your head instantly moving away from his way to give him more space to work his magic.

“Hm?” he hums, a satisfied sound cutting out of his throat as his actions get more slow, more lazy, but still just as electrifying. You don’t really know what you wanted to say– perhaps you had no point of calling his name just to say it, and the hazy look in your face is enough of a proof to him when he unattaches himself off your neck and locks his eyes with you, a grin settling onto his face. “Feels good?” 

Nodding eagerly, almost a bit fast and a bit too soon to your own liking (but you’ll worry about that later), you watch him lean towards you again, lips locking with yours in need. Your fingers trail up and down his clothed back, his fingers mirroring the same, but up your loose shirt (which reminds you that you didn’t even dress prettily for the occasion– since you didn’t know this was your date you're attending), cold hands against your heated skin. Shivering from the fresh breeze of the night, you feel him grin against your lips before detaching himself from them to speak against your mouth. “Let’s move this somewhere warmer,” he murmurs before he tugs you away from the car and opens up the back door, pushing you inside.

Swiftly getting inside and closing the door behind himself, Donghyuck appears hovering above you, caging you against the uncomfortable seat. Still, you don’t have time to feel any sense of discomfort as his fingers move your hair from the way and his lips are back on yours again, leaving you no time to think of the implications of the whole situation. 

“See? Isn’t this much better than arguing with each other all the time?” Hyuck snickers again in a moment of weakness when he pulls back from your face to admire your swollen lips, and the teasing has you pushing him towards the seats, a dissatisfied look on your face. 

“Shut up,” you whisper almost hurriedly, climbing onto his lap (not before you admire his sprawled-up legs and the sight of his thighs, though).

“Make me,” he challenges.

“Gladly,” you nod, attaching yourself to his plump lips again, since you can’t seem to get enough of the sensation of them against your weak self, every sweep of his tongue with yours making you feel more heated and impatient as you move against him in his lap, the motion earning you a dissatisfied grunt sent against your mouth as his palms grip your hips with unsaid urgency.

“Don’t start something you wouldn’t want to finish,” he breathes out.

Nodding, you hum. “Who said anything about stopping?” you muse out, grinding against him harder.

You’ll worry about the consequences later.

“Why am I the only one in the shot?” you squint your eyes at the male, watching him as he points his camera to you and tells you to smile and act natural. Donghyuck has on his varsity jacket and his hair is sitting messy, a bit curled on the top of his head, his legs are covered with loose gray sweatpants instead of his usual black jeans– he looks casual, and yet, he looks amazing, you foolishly think as you sigh to yourself and walk across the field, much like the male mentioned a few weeks ago when the two of you ate fried chicken with his free coupons, trying to capture the energy of what youth feels like to you.

“Because you are the main star, honey,” he grins at you, the nickname making you trip over a little on your own feet, before you turn back to him and send him a glare.

“I told you not to call me that,” you mutter, but feel the heat from your stomach slowly rising to the tips of your ears and the tops of your cheeks, your composure slowly crumbling under his gaze. Not only are you watched by his deep brown orbs, there’s also a camera pointed at you now, and if he doesn’t stop with the weird flirting he has going on– especially after what happened between the two of you last week– you don’t know how you’re supposed to contain yourself and act so you don’t look like an utter fool in front of everyone, when the clips will be played in class next week.

“Besides, the project is due next week and this is all we’re doing? Are you sure we’re going to be able to pull this off?” you ask, wary of his confidence. You’re not really sure if Donghyuck knows what he’s doing with this assignment. Why did you even trust him with it in the first place?

“I told you to leave it to me,” he says, “now be a good girl and run down the field, maybe twirl a little like a ballerina, I dunno… Hum a little tune to yourself, do anything remotely interesting and youthful, okay?” he instructs you, and you comply, ignoring the fact that he told you to be a good girl, because after what the two of you did last week, you’re not able to register those two words in a way that would not be mildly sexual in your brain.

You two haven’t spoken about the fact that you hooked up in the backseat of your car after your weird date last week. Truth be told, you two haven’t spoken about anything since it happened, because you felt too awkward and hesitant to bring any conversation topic up. The first time you two spoke was when Donghyuck texted you yesterday about the project, and you told yourself that you simply can't ignore him when it comes to these things, and so you agreed to meet up with him, hoping he won't bring up the events of last week. You were scared. What were you scared of, exactly? You have no idea.

Something in you was almost a bit shameful to admit to yourself that you managed to fall for Lee Donghyuck this quickly. Something in you was a bit embarrassed at the fact that you let yourself be so intimate and so close with the male, and although you don’t regret it, you don’t think you want to talk about it with him (or anyone, for that matter) just yet. Or ever, actually.

And although you could be rational and tell yourself that surely, Donghyuck wanted you in just the same way you wanted him, and there was nothing embarrassing about it, you didn’t feel comfortable with talking about the act with him, because deep down, you know it wasn’t just about the sex for you and you were afraid that it was for him, and you’d rather stay in the blissful unknowingness than to know he only wanted to have sex with you and not try to go somewhere further with your relationship. Did this inner monologue reek of disgusting insecurity? 

Yes. Yes, it did. But somehow, you’re not able to do anything about it.

And so you run down the field like Donghyuck told you to, and you twirl and twist and shout and dance around, trying your hardest to act silly and youthful and exactly like he would like you to, because you’d hate to be unnatural around him, and you pray it’s enough for both the project and him included. Turning back to gaze at him from the distance, you notice that he’s not even recording anymore, only watching you with a lazy grin on his face, eyes glimmering under the direct sunlight, and you wonder how you haven’t realized just how beautiful he is when he’s simply just existing all those months ago, and how foolish you feel with the thought and both without it now. Walking up to him, you muse. 

“Are we done here?” 

“I think we got all the shots we need,” he hums, nodding to your question. There is something reassuring in his smile, and if you were confident enough to grasp at the straws, you would try to talk to him about the events of last week. You lack in many ways, though, and you were never so self-assured as you try to portray yourself to be, and so you don’t. 

“Let’s go, then,” you say, shuddering from the cold November wind as you walk away from the man, expecting him to follow you. You drove here, since the place is a few miles away from the city, and the fact that this marks the end of your project didn’t really make you as relieved and happy as you thought you’d feel back when you agreed to be his driver for the semester. 

A soft fabric envelopes your shoulders, his varsity jacket hugging you into warmth. You smell his cologne when you shyly push your limbs through the sleeves– a self-indulgent desire, too strong to be fought away– and when you look at him to thank him, he wears a soft look in his eyes that glazes you with such tenderness you feel like combusting from the inside with the strengths of your own emotions. Your heart beats fast in your chest when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you walk towards the car, and when a stronger wind hits your heated face, you think that maybe Donghyuck was right, after all. 

You do think this perfectly captures what youth feels like.

“So we won’t talk about it?” he asks, and you turn away from him in fear of your emotions being clearly written on your face. He doesn’t have to name it– you know what he means.

“No,” you shake your head, determined, yet a little scared of his response, “not now.” Not yet, you think. You want to enjoy today a little longer.

“Why?” he asks.

Taking a shaky breath in, sensing that you won’t get to avoid the confrontation like you wanted to, you shrug. “I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it yet,” you bitterly laugh, meeting his eyes with something close to fear in your eyes.

“Hear what?”

“That you… you didn’t really mean anything by it, y’know,” you mumble, “I mean, you probably just did it to stroke your ego, or something, after everything I said at the party, so… yeah, I just don’t know if I wanna hear it.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence after your explanation, and Donghyuck only stares you down with a blank expression. It's not often that you don’t get to clearly see and experience all his emotions flashing through his face, letting you know what he feels even before he gets to speak it out loud. Now is one of the situations, though, and it scares you– it makes you so deeply afraid you’d rather back away from this conversation– damn you for entertaining it in the first place, and so you pretend it never happened in the first place.

“You think I did it to stroke my ego?” he clarifies.

“I- I mean…” you stutter, shying away from his gaze.

“Okay, then,” he mumbles, jaw hardening, his eyes not meeting yours when he circles the car and gets to his designated place on the passenger's seat, “that’s fine, I guess. I’ll try to show you my intentions clearer next time.”

Sitting in class, head resting in your hands as you stare right in front of you, mentally counting down the seconds until the last class of the semester starts, you are only vaguely aware of the things happening around you. You register Aeri talking to you about the new episode of her favorite drama somewhere to your right and you are also aware of Haknyeon and Shotaro sitting in the row in front of you, laughing loudly to themselves about the way their weekend went– yours went terribly, just for everyone’s information, since you decided to drown your feelings in alcohol alone in your apartment, having to be led to bed by your roommate after she got home in the middle of the night from one of her dates with Eric. You don’t really realize it when the class starts, because the monotone voice of your professor doesn’t do much to wake you up, but you are painfully aware of Lee Donghyuck’s body slumping next to yours into one of the only vacant chairs approximately 10 minutes after the class starts, out of breath and slouched over.

Aware of his presence, yet still acting like a scared deer around him, you don’t make any effort into turning to him and greeting him upon his arrival. Still, you sense the smell of his cologne filling your nostrils and making you just a bit more tired and sleepy, your eyes closing on themselves before you’re woken up by the sound of your name coming out of the professor’s mouth.

Scared you’re getting scolded for sleeping in class, you straighten your back and put on your best polite expression, but then you realize your name wasn’t called, just mentioned, and the name of none other than your neighbor was following, when the projector on the wall in front of you lights up and a file named Final projects is opened on the professor’s laptop, each .mp4 file named with a pair of surnames, and two clicks after, your final project is the first one of many presented in front of the whole class. You tried to tell Donghyuck that you could help with the final editing, but the male said he had a vision he needed to achieve, and for that, he wanted to be in charge of it alone, and frankly, out of fear of interacting with him more than was absolutely necessary, you left him to do his thing, resulting in this being your first time watching the final video as well.

There’s a few seconds of silence, a point of complete blankness as the clip starts, and a song played on an acoustic guitar starts playing when the word YOUTH, all capitalized, flashes at the screen. 

A clip of you running down the field in your flowy dress starts the video, the camera zooming in on your figure when you twirl and skip around in the tall grass, and then you laugh over the background music, the sound making you gape in surprise. You didn’t know your laugh sounded like that, and with the hazy coloring of the clips and the solemn, youthful atmosphere Donghyuck managed to capture in the video, you find yourself thinking the sound was kind of beautiful. 

Then the clip cuts into another one– and you widen your eyes at the sight, because Donghyuck told you he’s only going to include the clips from the field, and you believed him, well, because you never saw him record anything else– as the screen shows you a bunch of moments, all wordless, of you just going on with your life. The very next one is of you arriving to class late, a grumpy expression playing with your features. You didn’t notice Donghyuck filming back then, when he offered you a cup of coffee as you laid back on the desk, and a fit of giggles erupts around the class at your behavior. The next clip shows you laughing at Aeri’s shoulder in Yangyang’s basement– a couple of clips of that night following, capturing you playing beer pong with your other friends, or taking sips of your beer when you sat down on one of the folding chairs in the corner of the basement– each one showcasing you completely natural, unstaged, and raw. You had no idea anyone was watching you, yet alone taking clips of you. Did Donghyuck have his camera with him all those times? Or was he just taking those with his phone, since you never even noticed?

There’s a clip of you showing him the middle finger through the window when he called you late at night one day. Another one of you driving, and frankly, you don’t even know where you were going, but the sound of you giggling breaks through the speakers and you slouch deeper into your seat, shy at hearing the sound. The very next one is of you sipping at your boba through your straw, and that’s when you realize those were taken by his phone– at least some of them– because you attempt to hide from the lens by showing your palm against it. Another clip shows you digging through bags of McDonald’s take out in the driver’s seat of your car, another one lets you remember the time you went to get fried chicken with him, thinking he’s sending the video he took of you to tease his roommate with the free food he got with someone else back then, unaware that he wanted to use it for the project later. 

There are a few clips that only last a second. You walking a few steps ahead of him– you think it was the time you two went to the mall, you angry with his antics. Another one of you picking out cans of soda from the rack in the convenience store. A clip of you driving, once again, but now the sky is starry and dark, and you remember the night too well, since it wasn’t that long ago. A clip of you glaring at your bangs in the rear view mirror, another one of you staring into your textbooks at the library. 

There’s only one clip that shows Donghyuck as well. It’s one taken without you knowing, much like the previous ones, and how you missed the phone plopped up against the corner of your dashboard, you really don’t know, but the video shows you two in the McDonald’s parking lot, your hand touching his on the gear stick as you show him how to drive. Only then do you notice the flustered look on his face and the nervous laugh he gets out in the clip, the sound making your heart jump in your ribcage. 

The last part of the video is of you walking a few steps ahead of him, his varsity jacket hugging you around your shoulders. It’s the latest clip of them all, and it makes you painfully shy to look at it. The video comes to finish with a few last strums of an acoustic guitar in the background, and you come back to your senses when you feel a hand squeeze your thigh under the table, the whole class erupting into claps. The video was beautiful, and you feel moved.

Although you should be more mad about the fact that Donghyuck took videos of you without you knowing, there is something incredibly moving about the fact that somebody was looking at you and felt the need to capture the moment before it went away. The clips were candid, real, raw, showcasing exactly how the memory went, how your laugh sounded, and how you looked through Donghyuck’s eyes. The video was exactly what it needed to be and more. 

There’s something about the fact that all of the clips were of you that made you feel weak in your knees. If the video was what youth feels like, does this mean you were his youth?

If you felt beautiful in the video, loved the way your eyes crinkled in joy, liked the way your expressions morphed into the purest form of whatever emotion you felt at the moment, did that mean this was the way Donghyuck saw you with his eyes?

“See?” you hear him whisper into your ear, his hand still resting at the top of your leg. “I told you I had a vision. I did a good job, didn’t I?”

You chuckle, then offer him a nod. “I didn’t know you were recording all of those,” you whisper, ignoring the words coming out of your professor’s mouth– surely evaluating your work right now. You don’t really want to hear it, though– you’re sure you’ll pass. After seeing what your neighbor’s capable of, you have no doubts.

“I wanted it to feel authentic,” he peeps, “to the way I see you, I mean.”

“Is this what you meant when you said you’d prove your point later?” you wonder.

“I mean, the fact that I’ve always had the biggest crush on you was supposed to come across when I liked your objectively terrible haircut you got at the beginning of the term, but yes,” he admits, sheepishly smiling.

“Okay, uncalled for,” you shrug off his hand from your thigh, to which he giggles and captures your limb with his again, interlacing your fingers. He sways your hands back and forth, offering you a soft look that drives you slightly insane. After all of this, you’re really not sure what you were so afraid of.

“How does that roadtrip sound right now?” 

“Still absolutely terrifying,” you note. 

“Even if I pay for gas?” he laughs.

Squinting at him, admiring the boyish grin playing with his lips, you sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

[3-2-whump]

Mistaken Accusation

<prev next>

Well, let's get into it. Beginning of the end. Special thanks to my beta readers @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz ! Do mind the tags, and enjoy

This chapter does reference The Hit, so please skim that first if you are not already familiar with it

Author's Note: This is where shit gets real (more real, that is), and where the author may make some decisions that might not vibe with the readers. To those readers, all I will say is fanfiction is a thing, canon divergence is a thing, and I will honestly be more intrigued than mad if you end up scrapping this part and writing your own version! (Just lmk, like tag me or dm me so I can see?) But, um, yeah, onto the chapter!

TW/CW: description and mention of STD, prostitution whump, mock execution, gun violence (brief, but there), collared whumpee, bound and blindfolded whumpee, shock, emotional whump, fear of death, pissing oneself out of fear, emotional angst, degrading language, toxic relationship, manipulative whumper, possessive whumper, intimate whumper

As Khaled relieved himself in the office bathrooms near the end of the day, he hissed under his breath at the burning sensation coming out of him. That can’t be good, he thought. What would make it feel like he was passing acid or fire down there? He looked down at his dick, eyes widening a little as he saw how inflamed his urethra looked. Khaled let out a mortified little squeak. What’s wrong with my penis?

Should I tell Master? Telling his master that he suspected he’d caught something would only lead to probing questions about Khaled’s sex life, even though he wasn’t the one who had visited every whorehouse within the tristate area. Probing questions about his sex life would mean admitting that he was sleeping with Julio, and admitting that he was sleeping with Julio would only fuel his master’s possessive side and make things far worse for him. Khaled could imagine no situation in which he would come out unscathed if he told Thomas about it. So, he decided not to tell him.

He didn’t have to endure his secret for long though, because as soon as he came back into his master’s office, he could sense the energy had changed. 

“Is there something wrong, Boss?” Khaled asked nervously.

“I have just received information from our foot soldiers and informants that the motorcycle that my would-be assassin rode when he got away came from Alvarez Auto and Motorcycles, a known front of Juicio Divino,” Thomas gritted out.

Khaled’s jaw dropped as his mind slowly put together the pieces that he had in his hands all along. Of course, it was Julio, how could I be so blind?! he thought. Just over a year ago, Khaled himself approached the scrapyard assassin asking him to teach him how to kill, and had been crawling back to him in various states of distress ever since. Julio was one of two people on earth who knew how badly Thomas actually treated him, and, combined with his overprotective tendencies, Khaled mentally beat himself up for not suspecting his boyfriend sooner. 

His master’s stormy gray eyes narrowed at Khaled in a piercing glare as he pushed his tablet across the desk. “Incidentally, you have been visiting Alvarez Auto pretty frequently over the past year, haven’t you?”

Khaled’s stomach twisted in dread as he leaned in closer to read it. There, opened on his slave tracking app, was a map with pins of most-frequently visited locations he had been tracked to, and there was a damning bright red pin at the address of Julio’s garage. His mouth went dry as he opened and closed it in shock, trying to collect the right words to say as the opportunity to beg for mercy slipped through his fingers like sand. “I- Master, I- it’s not what you think-”

The older man disdainfully held up a hand, a nonverbal cue that he didn’t want to hear it. Khaled shrank in on himself. “How did you even pay for a hit against me, huh?” the boss asked. “I know you haven’t made that much money since I’ve started paying you! How could you afford to put out a hit?” His voice lowered to a growl. “Did you bend over for that cholo son of a bitch? Did you let him fuck you like I fuck you? Is that why you’ve got an infection –don’t deny it, Khaled, it hurt when I pissed this morning!”

The world seemed to stop as the air quickly left Khaled’s lungs. Wait, what? He was being accused of conspiring against his master, then of being a whore within the same breath? And to make matters worse, he somehow gave his owner an STD before he realized he had one himself? His breaths came out shallow as his body began trembling in fear. What does this mean for me? What’s going to happen to me? He nearly passed out as his imagination went wild with how severe his punishment would be. “Master, please, I had no idea-”

“Shut up!”

Khaled ceased his begging instantly, a nauseous wave of dread coiling in his stomach as he waited for his master to dole out his sentence. “You will never see anybody besides me again,” his master said, glowering at him in contempt as Khaled’s eyes widened in horror. He got up from his chair and circled around Khaled, with a familiar black shock collar and a length of chain in hand. “I’ll give you a chance to say your goodbyes before we leave.”

Khaled regained enough of his senses to shake his head and back away from the man approaching him. “But, Master, I didn’t-”

The world snapped to the right in a stinging blow as Thomas backhanded him. Khaled rubbed his sore cheek and winced in pain. “You’re lucky I don’t outright kill you, though I still might, if you keep whining like that!” he yelled. Khaled turned silent and sullen, still cradling his sore cheek as the collar tightened like a noose around his throat. “Now, come on, let’s make your final goodbyes count.” His master attached the chain leash to a notch in the shock collar and pulled Khaled towards the exit.

-

Khaled was pulled through the whole office and out to the guard shack like that, stopping periodically as his master made him explain what was going on and why he was leaving to everyone they met. Khaled’s voice was shaking like a leaf the first stop they made; by the time they made it to the guard shack, he was unable to utter anything intelligible past his tears. Nico’s jaw dropped as Thomas explained what had happened and why Khaled was never going to see him again.

“But, he didn’t do it, sir!” he objected, pushing himself out of his desk chair and standing up to face him. “He had no part in it! I can prove it, just listen to me!”

As much as Khaled wanted to interrogate that ‘I can prove it’ claim just a little more, Tom ignored him. He pulled the leash taut and yanked Khaled away. Khaled frantically pulled at the collar around his neck, emitting choked gasps as he stumbled along and struggled to keep up.

They ended up back at the car, where Tom unclipped his leash and pushed the button on the key fob to unlock the trunk of the car. Khaled was shoved up roughly against the side of the car as his hands were gathered behind his back and bound tightly by a soft and silky material, most likely a necktie. “Master, please, please, hear me out –I didn’t put a hit on you, I swear!” he once again tried to explain through a mess of snot and tears. “I don’t want to kill you, why would I want to kill you? Please –listen to me! I don’t want to kill you; I swear I didn’t know!” Thomas dragged him to the back of the car, where he stared down at him in cold fury. He took out a dark cloth from his pocket and unfolded it. Khaled preemptively opened his mouth to receive it, but then the man tied the cloth around his eyes to blind him. He quietly shut his mouth as the blindfold was tied tight enough to catch his hair. He heard the trunk of the car quietly whoosh open before he was picked up and shoved inside. The door of the trunk slammed shut, sealing him in an extra layer of darkness.

The ride seemed to stretch on forever as Khaled shivered in the darkness. It was still far too cold to be riding back there without anything to keep him warm. Throughout the darkness he begged, then screamed, then cried, then sniffled, knowing damn well his master couldn’t hear him.

Time seemed to work differently in the dark, cramped confines of a car trunk. Khaled was unsure of how much time had passed since he was shoved in the trunk, but he was more than concerned that they seemed to keep driving far longer than it usually took to get back to the apartments. He’s never going to forgive me, he realized as he rested his head onto the floor of the trunk. He really thinks I planned to kill him, and now he’s going to take me out into the woods and kill me, or do something so horrific it will make me wish I had died. A fresh round of tears soaked into his blindfold as Khaled whimpered pathetically. I don’t want to die, not like this.

Goddamnit, Julio, you tried to be the hero, and now I’m gonna end up dead in a ditch somewhere, Khaled cursed in his head.

The car rolling to a stop and faint click that preceded the trunk unlocking made Khaled’s heartrate speed up. A new wave of anxiety hit him much like the blast of midwinter air when the trunk was opened and he was pulled out. He didn’t feel concrete underneath his shoes, and the fresh icy chill of the air around him told him they weren’t in the parking garage. We really are in the woods somewhere, he thought, his hopes sinking like lead as his master’s hand gripped his elbow and steered him along to an unknown destination. He’s really driven me out to the woods somewhere to kill me. Khaled stumbled as his foot hit an unseen obstruction, but his master dragged him along regardless. This is it. I’m gonna die. His breaths started picking up, heart racing as that last thought worked him up into another nervous state. His owner stopped and threw him forward onto the ground. Khaled landed face first into a cold and wet patch of snow, judging on how it felt when it absorbed his impact. “Get up and kneel.” Khaled’s breaths stopped in his throat. There was no room in his master’s frigid tone for argument. He pushed himself up the best he could with his hands bound behind his back, shivering not just from the cold as he assumed a kneeling position.

A cold, metallic object pressed against the back of the young man’s skull. “If you’ve got anything to say, say it now,” his master’s voice said behind him. A wet and warm spot began to soak his pants in the front. Khaled’s mind went blank. He was so scared he nearly forgot his owner had asked for his last words. He caught his trembling lip between his teeth before shaking his head. Whatever he could say for his last words would go unheeded anyway, lost in the winter’s chill and the indifferent New England woods. He hung his head in resignation, ready for the explosive pain followed by sudden oblivion and nothingness, or whatever it was that lie ahead.

He had at least hoped he would see his father’s face before the end. But the only image his shielded eyes could conjure up before he died was a pair of sharp, steel gray eyes.

Click.

Nothing happened.

The gun lowered, and heavy footsteps crunched in the snow as his would-be executioner walked around to the front of him.

Khaled was still alive. Somehow, he was still alive. There was a light brush of hands reaching behind his head before the blindfold fell away, revealing a familiar face staring down at him with those same steel gray eyes. Khaled’s breath shimmered in the cold moonlit night. He was alive. He wasn’t going to die. He was alive.

All the fear and tension left his body like his vaporous breath in the night as he slumped forward, crying tears of relief into his master’s shoulder as he caught him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he sobbed between each breath.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s alright, it’s alright,” Thomas soothed as he reached behind Khaled to untie his hands. “I believe you for now, it’s alright.” As soon as his hands were free, Khaled wrapped them around the older man’s neck, hugging him close as he bawled into his shoulder. “I thought about it, but there is no way I can definitively prove it was you.” A muscular pair of arms wrapped around him and held him close, drawing him into the warmth. “And besides, my favorite fuck toy, plotting to kill me?” His master laughed. “No way you’re smart enough for that! I didn’t buy you for your brains, you know!”

“Yes, yes, I’m stupid, I am so fucking stupid, thank you!” Khaled cried. He nuzzled his cold wet face into Tom’s warm neck and peppered the man’s jawline with kisses, murmuring his gratitude between every kiss. He was alive, he didn’t die, and that was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

“Let’s go home,” Thomas said, hoisting Khaled onto his feet. “The takeout I bought is getting cold, and you need a change of pants.”

He led the young man through the woods back to side of the road where he had parked his car. “I was completely serious about you never seeing anybody else again, by the way,” he reminded him as he opened the passenger side door. Khaled slid gratefully inside, happy to be in the heated part of the car. “You are relieved of your duties to the organization from now on,” Tom continued as he joined him on the driver’s side, “You are demoted to domestic service. You will stay at home and keep the penthouse spotless, welcoming me to it every evening with warm food and your warmer body. You will stay in the apartment and not leave for anything unless it is with me or a trusted associate. You will never see anybody again. That’ll keep you from conspiring to kill me, or from spreading your legs for anyone else but me, and only I will decide when it’s time to bring you back out again.” He pushed the button and started up the vehicle, setting the heaters to full blast.

Khaled nodded. What did he care about being stuck at home and never seeing anybody again? He was alive, and right now, as he held his freezing fingers close to the vents, that was all that mattered.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[sporesgalaxy]

Workshopping a fic where hunter talks with a memory of the previous golden guard in Darius's mindscape and I'm debating using Thomas for the fic, what was thomas's relation to Darius in your canon?

Genuinely tried very hard to get into writing Thomas for ya twice and ended up having ideas for Carver instead both times. Soooo I can only give you my vague structural thoughts.

yeah I'm back after writing all this and I was sure hoping I'd have some breakthrough while I went through everything but it just didn't happen.

Siigggh. Feel free to name your GG Thomas if you want but I just don't really have a Guy Fully Made yet.

•••

For the moment my conception of him is that he has the same sort of chaotic good alignment as Darius "only the small ones will get eaten" Deamonne, seeing as how they got along so well, + Im sure such an outlook would be the most practical way to do any real good so close to the Emperor.

The other main thing we've got to go off of is the way that Darius treated hunter in Any Sport In A Storm. We can probably assume that the prev. GG similarly valued people who had the strength to oppose the Emperor when what he told them to do was wrong. This is also a practical outlook for someone to have when working very closely to the Emperor while still trying to Do Good. You can't actually trust or rely on anyone who would turn on you if the Emperor asked.

We also have Darius' word that prev. GG was an extremely strong witch-- my assumption here is that none of the GGs have ever had magic, but most have been better at keeping that a secret than Hunter. This just means that the previous GG was EXTREMELY skilled with whatever artificial magic he had, to the point of never letting himself be seen disarmed. This of course also tracks as practical for his role, assuming the GG has historically also been default head of the Emperor's Coven (which seems like what Belos would probably prefer, but may have forgone in Hunter's case because of his age).

From all this I can imagine the GG doing his job similarly to Darius as we know him now; using power and intimidation to make a show of being a strong, loyal Coven Head, while secretly doing good deeds under the Emperor's nose, although perhaps with a bit more collatoral damage than is strictly healthy as a consequence of being so immersed in the cutthroat culture of the Emperor's inner circle for so long.

As for how he interacted with Darius, it's difficult for me to write for because of how many unknowns there are. We don't really have a clear idea of what Darius was like before he was a Coven Head, so I don't feel confident trying to fill in the blanks about how his relationship to the previous GG developed & impacted both characters in detail. This isn't to say it can't be done, just that it's out of my comfort zone of having Lots Of Stuff To Extrapolate From.

Besides this vague conceptual stuff I really don't have much solidified in my mind about Thomas, besides sort of a vibe that I've had trouble congealing. Sorry!

[ingek73]

The Curious Case of William’s Care for Harry

By Irene May 15, 2020 24 Comments

The Curious Case of William's Care for Harry

The Curious Case of William’s Care for Harry. There is not a day that passes without the British and Royal press blasting some headline about Prince Harry or Duchess Meghan, which news supposedly came to them via a well-placed source or a “friend”. Never mind that Harry and Meghan categorically stated that no one in the palace, or any royal source, well-place or whatever speaks for them. You see, since Harry and Meghan formally stepped back from their roles, there has been this insidious strategy to strip Harry of his agency and autonomy as a fully formed and accomplished human. Why would this be necessary? I think it’s a two-pronged aim.

First, it is obvious that despite the abundance of documentary evidence about Harry’s own feelings about remaining within the institution of the monarchy- ones that pre-date his meeting his wife- and since then, just the wretched way in which the media, some in the country and his royal family have treated him and his wife, the media and its puppet masters are trying. Trying to get us to take our thinking caps off and believe that Meghan alone informed their decision to step back. In the face of all logic and reasoned consideration, the powers that be are desperate to persuade us that Meghan is the big bad wolf. It would appear she’s the thing they fear or are threatened by the most, judging by how hard they try. Her power!

Harry dreamed of leaving Royal Family

Harry always wanted to leave Royal Family

Secondly, If indeed Harry didn’t know better and has been supposedly led astray by Meghan, then that leave a helpless Harry in your mind right? Does that sound familiar? “Harry is lonely in Canada”, now “ Harry is lonely in LA”, “ Harry feels out of sorts in LA”, “ Harry misses the UK”, “Harry misses his friends back home” and all that jazz. Poor Harry, you’re being led to think. What would they ever do about poor Harry? I have an idea.

Apparently there is a person who by birth is the second in line to the British throne. For whatever reason, he has been incapable of taking that birthright and his own God-given talents to create a profile for himself, outside of some tangent to his younger brother who is sixth in line to the throne. It’s been the unending refrain since their childhood. Look how responsible William is compared to Harry, or he’s smarter, he’s more traditional, he’s more dutiful, he has more hair… oh wait that wasn’t one of them, but you get the point.

Operation reclaim the spotlight is being resuscitated after an attenuated response to all previous iterations. It seems the role of future king and the business of preparing for kingship( if I hear this one more time…) is not enough to capture the spotlight, so the hunt for the shiniest new medal is on. I give you the embryonic stages of “benevolent future king”. The one who reached out and extended a hand to poor lonely Harry. Take note of the very recent headlines: “William is in touch with Harry” and the latest “Prince William writes letter to Princess Diana Charity from ‘my brother and I’” or “ Prince William Shouts out Prince Harry in Letter to Princess Diana Organization”. What the h-e-double hockey stick? I’m sure Prince Harry was dying for a shout-out like the air he breathes.

This is where I get off my detour back onto the main road. William cares about only William. And that’s what this not so cleverly disguised propaganda is about. Don’t forget that, it is this same William “who dropped Harry like a ton of hot bricks”, and who was reportedly “tired of holding his brother’s hand” during the feverish coverage of Harry and Meghan’s announcing they were to step back.

The timing is also curious because, Prince Harry has been receiving A LOT of great global coverage about his work with Well Child, the Netflix-Thomas The Tank project, Invictus, and recently his support of vets through the Guinea Pig club and CASEVAC club. And may I add, it’s coverage that has not been filtered through the refractive lens of the royal press. So like clockwork, here comes tag-along K to do what he does best, trying to get up the coconut tree. Don’t be deceived, all these weird stories about Harry missing his family, the UK, and XYZ have been laying the ground work for William to not only be inserted into this positive news cycle, but also for him to emerge as a magnanimous figure.

Nice try. This latest round of PR is dead on arrival, because no one is buying what they’re selling. We haven’t forgotten that it is this same brother, who sent his media attack dogs after Harry’s wife in particular, as a way of diminishing their popularity. If you don’t believe me, take it up with Tim Shipman. And while the media went after Meghan and stoked the most negative sentiment against her, this same brother, the principal at Kensington Palace, who is reported to be an anti-bullying advocate and even presided over a failed anti-cyberbullying initiative yet did not avail his digital media resources to sanitize their Instagram feed of the most vile, vitriolic, threatening and at times outright racist commentary about his pregnant sister-in-law. It’s because this team was working overtime deleting comments and blocking posters whose comments were deemed as infringing on his “human rights”. Okay!

It wasn’t even a year ago that, when Harry and Meghan were called every name in the book for traveling on a private jet( something all royals do and are defended for it), his brother tagged along that media cycle to pour salt onto Harry’s wounds. The night before their trip, last minute flight arrangements were made with the now bankrupt budget airline, FLYBE on behalf of William and family to travel to Scotland. He was cast as the responsible and eco-conscious future king for supposedly flying budget. Naturally, the royal rota were swift to his defense, when questions about the convenience of said budget flight were raised.

Naturally, like everything hatched in the dark, that publicity stunt unraveled when a report from the Scotsman uncovered, the last minute arrangements and the lengths the airline went, to position an aircraft for the auspicious royal flying act.

Fast forward to the next media storm around Harry and Meghan- The Southern African Tour documentary. As is customary with the British press’ dealings with Harry and Meghan, they always find the most negative slant and this time, the consensus was to portray Harry as “ mentally unstable” or “vulnerable”. Of course brother, the mental health advocate, did not miss the opportunity to enter the news cycle with his own label, Fragile. Why not ? Mental health advocacy and stigmatization go hand in hand right? The Curious Case of William’s Care for Harry!

William insults Harry and Meghan

William calls Harry fragile

My point is that, every time William has had occasion to be linked to Harry in a news item, it’s usually designed for his benefit. Whether it is a negative story or a positive one, Harry always gets the short end of the stick, so that William can smell like roses. This time is no different. Everything Williams’s actions have shown us does not track with this new narrative, except the part where there is a potential for good press. It is always selfish. They are brothers, and if they decide to smooth their differences, great. I however doubt that any genuine and well intentioned effort will be cataloged in the news. If for nothing, to protect that precious relationship you’re trying to rebuild.

So to the propaganda hacks, I say try another. Harry misses his UK friends? Are these the same ones the media hacks told us that Harry no longer hung out with because, you guessed it- Meghan had chased them away? And now he’s missed his family, the same ones who said they did not support him and his wife, and had moved to distance themselves?

The royal rift - The royal family not speaking to the Sussexes

William distances himself from the Sussexes

The same family which the media told us Harry and Meghan are no longer part of its inner circle? And this was all while they still lived in the UK. The very ones who couldn’t manage polite pleasantries at the last Commonwealth day service. Give me a freaking break! I think Harry is just fine in LA. And his brother could care less. He just wants you to think otherwise.

Nothing new under the sun. Just the tired old alliance whose enterprise is money-making on one hand and profile building on the other.

Silvester McMonkey McBean might think “you can’t teach a sneetch”.

I say, not so fast. “When people show you who they are, believe them”.

Dr. Seuss and Dr. Maya Angelou. Over and out.

-

(I could not post all pictures becaus of the photo limit but they are inthe article linked below)

[daliaradziwill]

             𝐂 𝐎 𝐍 𝐒 𝐈 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑   𝐀 𝐃 𝐎 𝐏 𝐓 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆 . . .                          𝐓 𝐇 𝐄   𝐓 𝐇 𝐈 𝐑 𝐃   𝐏 𝐑 𝐈 𝐍 𝐂 𝐄   𝐎 𝐅   𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇 𝐔 𝐀 𝐍 𝐈 𝐀 

there was chaos in his wake, one that could be described as beautiful, despite it being a hurricane of folly. something like broken hearts -- perhaps broken hope -- of those who wanted too much from him. he was good at that, destroying people’s expectations by not even coming close, it almost became his personal mission in life to be the antithesis of good breeding. 

background information on family: 

the four kęsgailos siblings are the biological children of the countess of vilnius, who was in charge of the area where the capital of lithuania is in. they don’t have duchies in lithuania, technically counties are the largest governing bodies before the monarchy as a whole. so they’re rich, aristocratic, but not terribly important. as soon as they became adults, dalia and darius went off to the world, ready to make a name for themselves away from the family, while domas stayed behind to continue the ‘family business’. during this time, the king and queen of lithuania had three children, all of whom started dying off through various circumstances at adulthood. 

with the line of succession dwindling down in numbers and king mindaugas getting along in age, the rumours say that the crown will fall upon a distant cousin: a russian duke with vague lithuanian ancestry. it was imperative that the line of succession be restored by true blue-blooded lithuanians, so the king arranged for an alternative. the countess of vilnius passed away in mid 2019, and in her deathbed agreed that all her children was to be adopted to the royal family. the eldest became crown prince, and the second brother inherited their birth mother’s title, while damianas and dalia was merely expected to fall in line. 

maybe he’s the only sibling to be on domas’ side, or maybe he’s deeply critical with how quickly darius and dalia ran away from their family? or he could hate all the factions of their family and take his new position as a royal with surprising ease, at least, all the money and status? 

stats

N A M E: damianas ( middle name utp ) radziwiłł ( prev. kęsgaila )

T I T L E: prince of lithuania, previously lord damianas of vilnius

A G E: twenty-nine

( P O S S I B L E )  F C S: alden ehrenreich, thomas doherty, nate buzolic, herman tommeraas, any appropriate male fc.

S T A T U S: utp -- could be interesting if he’s married and has to bring his wife into this new royal life. otherwise, the betrothal list is a mile long! 

S I B L I N G S: crown prince domas - @dcmvs​ ( 36​ ), prince darius, the count of vilnius - @rxdziwill​ ( 30 ), princess dalia - @daliaradziwill​ ( 28 )

G R O U P: @highsocietyhq

possible other wc combos

( gwendolen enid powys ), the ( lisa teige ) fc would like an ( ex ) with ( herman tommeraas, adam driver, any suitable male fc ). the mun ( requires ) you to contact them before applying. [ prince or duke of any country ]

( luciana di savoia ), the ( danielle campbell ) fc would like a ( forbidden love or relationship ) with ( nate buzolic, louis tomlinson ). the mun ( doesn’t require ) you to contact them before applying. [ prince of any country not in the alacrity alliance ]

[gloves94]

Flowers of Glass  [5/10]

Warnings: Sexual themes, sex pressure

Pairings: Thomas Shelby x Pious!Reader

Summary:  Reader is a devout Catholic. Her innocence and modesty make her untouchable to all of the men of Birmingham. However- is she really untouchable to all of the men in Birmingham? AN: Disclaimer*** I do not romanticise pressured sex. ((Just trying to fit into the mindset of the 1920′s) However, I do enjoy writing about unusual themes).

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

Chapter [5] - Angel and Demon

"Are you happy love?" Tommy asked as he stood at the entrance of the church holding (Name) by the side, hand tightly wrapped her waist. She stood next to him with her arms crossed over her chest. He held one of her hands in his.

It had been too much, but then again how could she possibly be upset?

After all, it had been for a charitable cause… right?

"You didn't have to do all of this Tommy!" she stared at the brand new organ the Shelby family had so kindly 'donated' to the church. There was a new table for ceremonies, a new podium, he had even gone as far as donating an elegant sacristy for the ceremonial Hosts. Both the priest and the local bishop were over the moon with the improvements that had been done to Birmingham's church.

She sighed, her shoulders dropping. Her disappointment came from the inability of the man to drop his pride for one and one moment only.

"I just wanted you to apologize. That's all."

She might as well have asked him for the world at her feet.

Thomas scoffed. The idea was ridiculous to him.

(Name) looked at him with her eyebrows raised. Thomas Shelby did not look like the type of man to apologize. Ever.

Without saying another word, he wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her dangerously close. She slowly eased into his cold touch. She had decided that she fancied the man. It was hard to resist his approaches, even if in her eyes he was the embodiment of sin.

He stole, killed, lied, womanized- she had also heard of Thomas Shelby's dangerous wrath but so far she had experienced nothing but kindness from him.

It was hard for (Name) to see him as the feared entity he really was.

Resisting him was futile.

Besides- all they ever did was spend time in the House of God which was perfectly normal. Outside of that, as far as (Name) knew. Nobody in town knew about their relationship. Not even her father. (God forbid the town's doctor found out.)

He had to have her. He crashed his lips into hers and held her close. She could feel the ends of her nerves tingling. She didn't even feel her veil slip off and fall into the church's maroon floor. She gave into him and pulled him closer by the collar of his suit jacket. The intensity increased-

"What is the meaning of this?!" a loud voice suddenly boomed.

A stout man stormed into the church.

With a red face (Name) looked away from her priest. She swore under her breath. Tommy noted it was probably the first time he had ever heard such foul language escape her pretty lips (and Lord forgive, inside of a church!).

Father O'Ryan marched to the front of the altar. His face resembled a stout tomato. He was furious. He reminded Thomas of a whistling tea mug. Despite it, Tommy held a bored expression on his face.

"This church is not a house for sin Ms. (Last Name)!" The priest ran as he marched towards the couple.

It was then that he realized whom the woman was with.

When the priest realized who she was with, his blood ran cold.

"Mr-Mr. Shelby," the priest gasped. Cold sweat built on his brow.

"Blessed be. To have you grace our beautiful temple." He piped. "We cannot thank you enough for all the renovations. The church truly has become a home for the community-" The priest continued rambling nervously.

The couple listened to the priest for a moment.

"-God certainly has a place for you in heaven, Mr. Shelby." Father O'Ryan said both his eyebrows furrowed as a tight-lipped smile stretched across his round face as he nodded his head in an exaggerated manner.

Tommy hated how much of a hypocrite the church could be.

"Thanks." He said after a moment. It didn't sound sincere. "Don't need it." He added cockily.

(Name) covered her mouth. Tommy couldn't pinpoint if it was to keep her laughter in or to hide her gaping mouth. He placed a hand between her shoulder blades and lead her out of the temple.

"You're the devil in disguise Thomas Shelby." She shook her head.

For her, it was hard to wrap her mind around his disbelief in life after death. She couldn't believe that he didn’t' believe in neither heaven or hell, the Resurrection or God's mercy.

"And what does that make you? My fallen angel?" He leaned in and placed a kiss on her temple. Her face lit up with a tint of blush at the gesture.

She was unsure of what to respond. After all, the devil, had once too, been an angel.

She was still touching her lips as they walked the dark streets of Birmingham. The devil had been an angel. The most beautiful one too. She couldn't help but wonder just what had made Thomas the damaged man he was today. Her hand reached for his and he wrapped his fingers around hers. She eyed his expression carefully. She could see the slightest curve turn upwards on his lip, despite it, he kept his stoic mask.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked.

He didn't answer. Simply lead her into the city. He might as well have been dragging her to hell. Regardless, she followed…

Rudolph Valentino appeared on the screen. His smoldering eyes and suave movements almost put Tommy Shelby's to shame.

The couple currently sat in the cinema.

Alone.

There was not a single soul in the room.

(Name) didn't know who Tommy had spoken to, but they had kept the cinema open this late just for him. It only proved how much the citizens of Birmingham respected- or, to be franker, feared the Shelby clan.

Despite having been alone many times, there was something unsafe about being outside of the church. Alone with him.

She felt vulnerable and unprotected being outside of the House of God with him.

Tommy sipped a glass of whiskey calmly. He appeared to be enjoying the film. Then again it was hard to tell with his typically composed expression.

Feeling anxious, sitting in the darkness of the cinema, (Name) held the chilled glass of whiskey in her hand, the only alcohol she had ever had was the cheap wine that was given in Sunday's mass.

Seeking for the liquid courage she sipped on the whiskey slowly in an attempt to soothe her uneasiness. She wasn't fond of the strong taste and forced it down despite the burning in her throat.

Today had been a day of firsts. First kiss. First, drink.

First outing together. She was on the edge of her seat, her nerves jumping at the slightest twitch of his hand around a shoulder.

Rudolph had successfully seduced the woman on the black and white screen that flickered before them. He leaned in to kiss her.

The grip on Tommy's hand tightened around (Name)'s shoulder.

She let out a shaky breath and turned to face him. She opened her mouth to speak but was instead silenced by his breath on hers. He tasted of whiskey and stirred something inside of her. Tommy leaned down and put his empty glass away.

"Tommy-" she breathed.

He once again silenced her. His lips left hers and trailed down to her neckline. They stopped just above her clavicle, where they lingered with gentle sucking.

Her free hand reached for the back of his head and rested on his nape, her fingers stroked his short, dark hair.

She felt her chest swelling as his strong hands lowered. Her heart was racing. This couldn't be right. 'Give in...' A voice in the back of her head whispered. Tempted her. 'Give in...'

It wasn't right.

"Tommy, please stop," she pulled away with a trembling voice. There was an unfamiliar heat pooling between her legs that originated in what she assumed could only be the pits of her stomach. He held her closer. It was then that his bare fingers lightly scratched the skin under her blouse. Goose-bumps jumped in her skin.

"Thomas. Stop!"

With an impulse, she pushed him off her person. He looked at her in surprise before emitting a small chuckle. He leaned in again to kiss her.

"Tease…" He grumbled.

His grip once again found a way to her body, his hand wandered lower than she wished.

"I mean it." She said sternly.

He didn't listen. She jumped to her feet becoming hysterical. He was just the same as those pigs that had assaulted her that fateful night in which they met. His eyes looked murderous. He clenched his jaw. Perhaps… he was worse.

"(Name)!" He said the following. His temper had been lost. His jaw clenched. Their shadows cast against the cinema screen before them. "I am a lady!" She exclaimed, demanding to be treated as what a lady of the time

Once again he reached for her, she pulled back and escaped the room. His gripped tightened around her arm. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her scent. "I will make you my lady," he grumbled against her skin in a dangerous tone. Something about his tone sent a chill down her spine.  Her breath hitched at the tone; there was something arousing about it.

Without thinking twice, she tossed her glass at him. The golden liquid stained his suit and spilled everywhere around. The glass came crashing down and broke into shards. Tommy's pupils had shrunk to dangerous slits that gazed upon her scared expression. If looks could kill…

"I-I'm not going to stay with you in this-in this-" she struggled to find the appropriate word. "In this room of sin!"

FIRST: [1] The Untouchable Woman

PREV: [4] A Charitable Heart

NEXT: [6] The Devil in Disguise

TAGS: @i-love-superhero @savemesteeb

AN#2: Sorry it took me so long! I’ve been out of town and dealing with summer school. This chapter was hard to write, I hope you guys enjoy it. I promise the next chapter is to be very, very smutty x

[cmyknoise]

Comfort - Part 2

Words: 1755

Relationship: If you squint maybe platonic LAMP? Platonic Anxiet? Kinda

Warning: Sympathetic Deceit? Angst I guess but not much.

Characters: Virgil, Deceit, Roman, Patton, Logan, Thomas. ‘Carefree’, ‘Pride’, and ‘Envy’

Prev. 

Next. 

Fic under the cut!

Anxiety soon grew used to those he lived with. He learned that the one in yellow was Deceit. He never gave a straight answer for his name, but he seemed to enjoy giving names of his favorite musicians. Everyone called him ‘Dee’. The green one was Envy, and he only let Dee call him ‘Ennie’. The taller orange one he had seen was Pride. Dee and Envy seemed to call him Tiger Face. He seemed to be the lead in the household.

Pride reminded him of the dark blue one from the light. Well dressed, smart, glasses,  though Pride had a huge ego. He cooked them food on occasion, but was mainly found reading or writing alone.

Envy reminded him of the red one from the light. His outfit had been almost identical if not for the complete color swap. He even wore a bare vine crown sometimes. A black prince like outfit, with golden accents and a green belt.

Dee’s personality most reminded him of the light blue one. For being Deceit, Dee was horrible at lying. He often slipped up and told the truth, he had to think about his lies, and it was obvious when he lied. It didn’t take long for Anxiety to find out that he could shape shift. It was spot on how much it looked like he was looking into the mirror when he opened the door. The only difference was a forked tongue, blepped past Dee’s lips.

He found out more about himself. He seemed to heavily rely on the fight or flight system, having no real control of whether his body decided to fight, run, or freeze up. He also found that in high states of anxiousness, panic, and fear that his eyes went white. Plus, Dee had been right. He had scales right under his eyes. Something he didn’t remember having until he left his room. He didn’t remember the sides in the light having those either.

Anxiety hadn’t seen the light for awhile… He did find out where to look. His window peered straight into the light, but it had just...been awhile. He hadn’t seen those strange eyes either, though thinking back...they were awfully similar to Dee, Envy, and Pride’s eyes. The thought made him curious. Had they been watching him as he...developed? Or had they been guiding him? It was something he would rather not dwell on.

Anxiety heard a knock on his door. He only had so many guesses as to who could be there, and he no longer worried or was scared. This was his...home. As much as he had hoped and dreamed of being on the light, being surrounded by these three wasn’t all too bad. They were a bit over dramatic and...extra but they were good company. He twisted the handle, opening up the door to see a certain snake, grinning at him.

Anxiety chuckled, opening the door to let Dee in.

“Do you ever have a light on, Anx?”

“Nope. At least, never the main one.”

Deceit groaned and found his way to Anxiety’s bed, throwing himself on it. The purple clad side chuckled and sat beside him. They both had been having a rough week. Thomas started his sophomore year not long ago. The stress of homework and tests were getting to Anxiety, and Deceit had to come up with a lot to make Anxiety and the rest feel better.  

“Why don’t we go to the imagination?”

“Imagination?”

“Yeah! It’s a real bore, Anx. It’s really not that cool.”

Anxiety chuckled softly. Dee was really bad with his lies.

“Sure. Let’s go. I have no idea how to get there.”

“I planned on showing you. There’s an entrance in my room. Thomas got his ability to act from somewhere.”

“Mhm. Come on, show me.”

Anxiety got up, offering his hand to Dee, who grabbed his hand. Anxiety pulled him up, and Dee rushed to the door, dragging the purple side along with him. This...scared and excited Anxiety at the same time. It had felt like weeks, and yet at this point he and Dee had been pals for years. It seemed that time only slowed when Thomas was in big bouts of distress. He wondered now if that’s how it was for everyone.

Dee drug him into his room, past the snake patterned door, and into an...equally snake filled room. Deceit’s room was extremely warm, his bed covered in blankets. He had plenty of light, that could be dimmed if Dee felt it was needed. Tanks were on practically every desk and table, housing a snake, or in one case, a chameleon. Those clearly weren’t the focus, as Dee drug Anxiety to the back of his room, opening up his closet. Was this really some Narnia sort of thing?

Dee pushed aside the clothes in this closet, revealing a door behind it. He stepped in and pushed open the door. Beyond the door, locations shifted across it. A forest, an ocean, a river, a...school? Several places flashed, but it stopped darker looking forest with some mysterious glows. Deceit looked to Anxiety, whose eyes were slowly growing dull. The fear of the unknown started to kick in. Deceit gently squeezed his hand, giving him an assuring look taking a step past the door, hand still holding Anxiety’s.

They stepped through the door and it closed behind them. The two were left in a dark forest, but it was absolutely gorgeous. It was littered with glowing flowers, plants that looked straight from a fairy tale. Dee pulled him off, Anxiety was too focused on the fantastic surroundings to care where they were going. He...trusted Deceit. He thought back to his past while Dee drug him off into the forest. He had already made the connection of the orbs that once watched him in the void, they must’ve been the side’s eyes. Was this...why he found the yellow and brown ones so comforting? Because they were Deceit? From the beginning it seemed that Deceit stuck to him like glue. Envy was fine, so was Pride, but it was Deceit who eventually lulled him from the dark cave of his room.

He was once curious on why there were two sides, one in the light and the other shrouded in the dark. Pride had told him that it was because they were the main sides of Thomas’s personality. Logic, Morality, Creativity, and Care-free. That’s why they were in the light, they had a job to do. Pride had seemed bitter about the subject, and it was quickly changed. Anxiety never brought it up again.

Deceit stopped, taking Anxiety from his thoughts. They had stopped in a pretty open clearing, surrounded in dark trees, odd plants. Dee sat down in the soft looking grass, and Anxiety followed in suit, sitting down beside him.

“So why...are we out here?”

Anxiety’s voice was quiet and low, he was pretty calm. Dee gave a sly grin, looking at Anxiety and then at the dark forest surrounding them.

“Dunno Anx. Thought it’d be boring, thought you’d hate it.”

He chuckled and lent back. Anxiety rolled his eyes and looked around. The place was cool, quiet… He liked it. He didn’t know they could reach the imagination directly like this and...go places. A weight was felt on his shoulder and the purple clad side looked over to find that Deceit had rest his head on his shoulder, tongue stuck out past his lips. He gave a soft chuckle and closed, his eyes. He could get used to coming to this place.

A rustle of leaves and snapping of twigs alerted the two. Anxiety tensed up and got up quick, Deceit followed and stood up with him, looking around. Anxiety knew right where the noise was coming from, and he stood in a protective stance, stance, staring on into the trees. There was a glint as a blade came down on heavy thorns and shrubbery, and from behind…

Anxiety’s eyes widened and his heart rate picked up. It was the red, prince side.

Dee scowled, “Why are you not here, Creativity?”

Creativity looked up, staring at Deceit, then Anxiety. His eyes looked confused, lingering on Anxiety. The prince held his sword at the ready, and Anxiety moved over, almost blocking Deceit.

The prince completely disregarded the question, looking straight at Anxiety, “Carefree…? Is that you?”

Panic shot through Anxiety, and he quickly shook his head, hair moving, revealing his scales. Dee gave a hiss toward the Prince. Creativity’s eyes narrowed and he gave a growl, raising his sword. He almost growled, completely switching from caution to aggression.

“What did you do with Carefree?” He glared down at the two sides with the scales. Anxiety didn’t know what he was talking about. Deceit held his mouth shut and shook his head. The Prince muttered something about the ‘Dragon Witch’ and their minions before bringing his sword down, swinging at Anxiety only to clang… Anxiety had his hand up, a thin, light purple..shield of sorts, protecting his hand from the blade. His clouded white eyes widened and he looked to Deceit, before gripping his arm. Fight or flight- and he was not fighting Creativity. He grabbed Dee’s arm and the two popped out, leaving Creativity in the imagination.

Anxiety had his arms tightly around Deceit in a protective manner as they just appeared in his room, his heart pounding. Creativity was left in the imagination, just as confused as he was furious. How dare...how dare those monsters, those villains. The imagination crumbled down around him, and he was off, returning home.

Deceit clung to Anxiety, frozen in shock. Not a word was spoken, but it seemed they silently agreed not to go back into the imagination, certainly not any time soon. They both fell to sit on the floor.

Several minutes passed before they slowly unlatched from each other. Deceit looked at Anxiety, eyes wide.

“Since when could you conjure a shield?”

His voice was hushed and airy, he still sounded terrified and in shock. Anxiety just shrugged some, he still couldn’t find his voice, and his eyes were still clouded a bright white. Maybe...those sides in the light weren’t as nice and happy as they seemed. Dee made Anxiety promise not to tell Envy or Pride, which he promised not to. Envy would throw a bossy fit and Pride would’ve been pissed more so at the others. They kept what happened a quiet secret.

[lightyagamiis]

project holland - three

pairing: tom x female reader genre: sci-fi, fluff, some angst and possibly future smut. some monsters and superpowers warnings: language word count: 2.9k

When the world was ran down by alien monsters that appeared out of nowhere one hundred and twenty years ago killing most of the human race. The rest of the world population moved into a giant hotel that was built with an invisible shield to help protect those inside. In a world with every human with superpowers cramped inside one hotel and a mystery person showing up out of the blue, secrets get let out and the whole world changes.

prev / next (coming soon)

It’s been two weeks since Tom showed up at the hotel, and he’s changed your life for the better.

You went from being so anti-social to a blooming butterfly in a way. You talked more than you’ve ever talked before. Usually, you were quiet and kept to yourself. But now you can talk all day long to Tom and you enjoyed it.

He waited for you every day by the doors until you showed up for college so you two could walk in together.

He waited to get in line for dinner until you walked in the cafeteria so you could stand in line together.

You two didn’t spend much time together unless it was at college or dinner.

The Jones family took most of his time since they have such a big family and share such a little space they need him to help watch the younger kids and keep the room clean. You didn’t blame them, but maybe if they would quit breeding like rabbits there wouldn’t be such an issue.

You did want to spend more time with Tom, but you guess you were just meant to be those friends that only hang around during school and food.

It was the weekend, which meant the whole hotel would be in chaos for three days.

No schooling was held on Friday’s, so from then until Sunday every student ran around the hotel like it was nobody's business. Throwing small parties in the other students' rooms, spending time with family or just run around the hotel to keep themselves busy.

You usually spend your time in your room on weekends. You didn’t care about attending parties or any other shit like that. You see your family every night for dinner, plus your parents work so there’s no need to really see them. Your brother gets dropped off and watched during the day. So you just sit around and do absolutely nothing.

You laid on your bed and stared up at the ceiling, counting the spots on the wall that needed to be repainted. This hotel was slowly falling apart, only a matter of time before it just stops functioning.

-

Tom sat at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal in front of him.

Kids ran and screamed around him. Yelling at each other and calling everyone names.

Tom slowly lift the spoon to his mouth, having the taste of milk and fruity cereal fill his taste buds.

He’s only been here for two weeks but felt as if he’s been here his whole life.

Tom sighed as he crunched his cereal, drowning out the sound of the annoying kids around him. Damn, why does the Jones have so many kids? They are the biggest family in this hotel.

But Tom knew why they kept producing, they believed that one day everyone would leave this hotel and start over in the world. They wanted to make sure their family lived on, and that it was their duty as survivors to continue to breed so the human population doesn’t die out. Or maybe they just enjoy having sex and didn’t know what pulling out meant.

But they were a good family, they did take him in after all.

Gwen Jones walked into the kitchen, giving Tom and sad look. Gwen was the oldest child of the Jones family. She is seventeen years old.

“Tom, why do you sulk around during the weekend?” She asked placing her hands on her hips.

But Tom didn’t hear her, he was deep in thought.

“Tom!” She shouted, making Tom jump in his chair and look at her quickly.

“What the hell why did you yell at me?” He snapped.

“I was trying to get your attention, dumbass.”

Gwen and Tom definitely had a sibling relationship that grew the past two weeks he’s been here.

“Bitch..” Tom mumbled as he shoved more cereal into his mouth.

“Anyways, why do you sulk around here during the weekends? I understand the first week since you didn’t know anymore but it’s been two weeks and you still just sit around.”

Tom shrugged, standing from the table and placing his bowl in the sink, “I don’t really have a reason to leave during the weekend except for dinner.”

Gwen groaned and shook her face, causing Tom to shot her confused looks, “You literally have Y/N, Tom.”

He shrugged his shoulders again, “she’s more of a friend I just see during dinner and college.”

Gwen shook her head again, “she’s a friend Thomas, and I think you two need to hang out more.”

Tom crossed his arms, giving her a stern look, “why?”

Gwen mimicked his position, “because Y/N really doesn’t have any friends, she’s always alone and only really speaks to her family, that was until you came along. I’ve never seen Y/N so happy to have a friend. Plus she’s the only person you know besides us and I think it’ll be good for the two of you to become closer.”

Tom thought about it, knowing Gwen was right. But his other thoughts is what kept him second-guessing, but again, he knew Gwen was right. And it wouldn’t hurt him to gain a friendship.

“Fine, I’ll go see if she’ll hang around me.” Tom said.

“Good, she lives on the second flo-“

“I know where she lives, Gwen.” Tom said walking past her, “don’t need to tell me, I’ve walked her home plenty of time to remember where her room is.”

Gwen snickered as she stared at him as he walked out the door, “they would totally be cute together.”

Tom made his way up to the second floor, finding his way to your room. Your last name was engraved on a bronze plate on the wall, which made it easier to find your room since this hotel didn’t have room numbers on the doors.

He knocked on your door, waiting for an answer.

You swung the door open, completely surprised to see Tom standing in your doorway.

“Hey Tom, what’s up?” You asked. It wasn’t normal for him to show up randomly, the only time he’s ever been to your room was when he’s walked you here after college was over.

“Would you want to hang out?” He asked, “Gwen was bothering me about being a couch potato, and said I needed to get out and about.”

You chuckled at what Tom said, crossing your arms and leaning against the door frame, “yeah that sounds like Gwen.”

Tom nodded, pulling his lips into his famous thin line, rocking on his heels.

“So, hang out with me?” He asked laughing a bit.

You didn’t have anything better to do, “yeah, let me grab my shoes.”

You quickly turned and slipped into your Chuck Taylor’s and quickly ran out the door closing it behind you.

“Since you haven’t gotten a proper tour of the hotel, would you like one?” You asked, walking beside him.

Tom nodded, “that would actually be great. The major rushed the tour when I showed up so I didn’t get to really see everything.”

“Well, you came to the right girl! I know this hotel like the back of my hand!”

Tom chuckled at your comment, he was also happy he decided to get out and spend more time with you. You held a special place in his heart. A feeling he wasn’t sure he understood yet.

You showed Tom all your favorite places in the hotel, showing him every floor and inch of the place.

You also gave him more history that your grandparents told you growing up before they died.

Tom asked more about the Marvel comics, and you told him everything you knew, his eyes glowing with excitement as you spoke about them.

You two spent hours running around the hotel, but there was one final place you wanted to show him.

“You want to see my all time favorite place?” You asked.

Tom smiled softly at you, “uh duh!”

You both laughed, “okay follow me!”

You ran down the hallway towards the stairs, running up every single floor towards the top.

“Y/N, slow down I can’t run up steps as quickly as you.” Tom complained.

“Oh come on! Keep up!”

Tom snickered as he continued to watch you run up the stairs, you gave him such a rush and he wanted more of it.

You reached the top floor, which was empty. The major wanted to keep the top floor completely empty and used as storage. A few broken things are up here, filled with so much dust.

“You wanted to show me a bunch of shit?” Tom asked confused.

“No,” you said giving him a smile, “I want to show you this.”

You opened the door, the sun shining through.

You walked out, Tom following behind you.

“Woah…” he whispered.

You two were now standing on the balcony to the roof, the only place in the hotel that was exposed to the outside world, the only place you can come to fully experience being outside. You had your window in your room sure, but it wasn’t the same.

The balcony faced the river that went out for miles and miles. The green was plenty green, but that was thanks to the rain.

You could feel the warmth of the sun through the shield, and the breeze of the wind.

“The genius who made this shield really did a great job huh?” You said looking at Tom.

Tom was so amazed by the outside world and how the lowering sun looked along the land. How the light touched it, it was beautiful.

Tom glanced down at you, and he swore he was looking at the most beautiful thing.

The way the sun kissed your skin and how the breeze blew your hair. It was the most beautiful meat thing he’s ever seen.

“You gonna answer me?” You asked, smiling at him.

“Oh, uh yeah, I think the guy who made this was a genius,” he said glancing around at the shield. It had a light faint blue color to it, making it barely visible, “smart kid.”

Tom looked at the shield like it was the greatest thing on the planet, but in certain ways it was.

“I used to bring Mason up here all the time,” you said, having Tom get his attention back to you, “he used to love it, watching the sunset with me. But he got older and my parents started dropping him off to get baby say by Mrs. O’Kay and said I needed to focus on school, not babysitting my brother.”

Tom looked softly at you, his eyes turning soft as well, “so you started coming up here by yourself?”

“I used to. Eventually, I just stopped coming here, I don’t, well, didn’t have any friends to really come here with. And now many people in the hotel come this far up here anyway.”

“Why not?” Tom asked confused, “this place is beautiful.”

“Most people don’t want to see the monsters,” you said, “there’s been a few that have wondered near the hotel and has scared the living shit out of them.”

Tom glanced out towards the river, watching the sun sparkle against the water, “have you ever seen one?”

You shook your head, “No, I’ve been lucky enough to never come across one.”

Tom nodded.

“How about you?” You asked really actually wanting to know, “have you seen one? I’m sure you have since you seemed to have a long journey here from your land.”

Tom pursed his lips, thinking, then finally shaking his head, “I never came across one.”

You were shocked, how could he not have come across one? There’s no way he traveled that far and didn’t see one.

You wanted to open your mouth and call him out on it, but it didn’t feel right to.

This moment with him, standing out here, talking with him, it was too perfect to want to start an argument over something so stupid.

“How about your family?” You asked, “what were they like? Have any siblings?”

Tom nodded, “yeah I had three.”

Had? He had siblings?

“It’s not something I really want to talk about right now...I’m sorry.” He said looking down at his boots.

You understood, remembering the whole reason he is here anyway, his family was gone.

You kept your eyes on him, your heart beating fast.

You loved the way he looked under the setting sun. How the sun-blessed his skin beautifully and made his chocolate eyes look more beautiful.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Your heart was starting to feel something for him, something you’ve never felt for any of the other guys here in this hotel.

A feeling of a fire starting to burn deep within you.

Tom looked down at you, staring deeply into your eyes. His heart skipped a couple beats, feeling a spark deep within him.

Tom glanced down at your lips, pressing his lips into a thin line, then looking back into your eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” Tom said, causing your heart to stop and sink so deep down into your belly.

“No, I’m really not,” You said breaking eye contact with him. “I’m-“

Tom placed his fingers on your chin, lifting your face back up to look at him. He was now standing closer to you, his body only inches from yours.

Your heart raced, you’ve never had a male be so close to you like this, to make you melt against his touch. Tom was working some weird magic on you.

“You are beautiful,” he said again, “don’t ever doubt me about that. You’re amazing and beautiful and really smart,” he said pushing your hair behind your ear, “and I am so lucky and happy that you were the first person to really welcome me here.”

You kept quiet, not sure what to do or say. But it was official.

Thomas Stanley Holland stole your heart at that moment.

And little did you know, you also stole his.

-

You’ve been back in your room for a couple hours now, your mind continues to think about what Tom said, about what he did.

Your stomach filled with butterflies every moment you thought about it.

Your heart raced remembering his touch and how he held your face in his hand.

How your heart now belongs to him.

He owned you.

And there was nothing you could do about it, not that you wanted to do anything about it.

You tossed and turned in your bed, wanting to just fall asleep so you could hopefully see him again tomorrow.

But sleep never came and your mind never slept.

You needed to get out and get yourself tired.

You quickly changed into a pair of shorts and a black tee shirt, sliding on your chucks and quietly walking out of your room and down the hallway.

This place was super quiet at night. No one ever walks around this place at night, the hotel is way too big and creepy to really walk around at night.

Plus the elders claim ghosts of the first people to live here haunt the place.

PPFF whatever. Ghosts haunt this place my ass.

You walked down to the first floor, glancing around the empty floor and at the moonlight that filled it.

You kept on walking, just glancing around at everything, passing the cafeteria, library and the lobby.

And then, you saw something. Someone.

And not just anyone...you swore it was Tom.

You saw him place his hand on the wall, and a small opening in the floor opened up.

Tom kicked the floor open more with his boot before disappearing down into it, the whole closing up.

“What the fuck?” You whispered.

You quickly walked to where he was standing, touching your foot all over the area where the opening was. And touching all over the wall trying to figure out how to open it.

You were confused and didn’t understand what was going on.

You swore it was Tom that opened this floor, it looked like him and you swore it was him.

Your eyes couldn’t have been playing a trick on you, it wasn’t possible.

You kept touching the wall and kicking the floor, trying to figure something out.

“Miss L/N?” You heard a voice ask, turning your head you see the major, “What are you doing up this late? And why are you kicking and touching everything?”

You smiled shyly and laughed quietly, “I couldn’t sleep and decided to go for a walk and…” you stopped, if you told him the truth about what you just saw...it wouldn’t end good, “and I dropped something, I couldn’t find it and was kicking the ground hoping to find it and touching the wall to find the light switch.”

The major raised a brow, “the light switch is in the lobby, Y/N...you’ve lived here twenty-one years, I’m sure you remembered that.”

You laughed quiet and nodded your head, hoping you were faking enough for him to buy it, “that’s right! Silly me. I’m just so tired I can’t think straight.”

“Well, then go back to your room and go to bed.”

You nodded, looking back at the floor.

“Now, Miss L/N.” He said with a stern voice that made you jump.

You nodded again, walking towards the stairs.

You glanced back at him, watching as he looked at the floor and slowly touched the wall before getting up and looking at you.

You quickly looked away and just kept on walking.

Something wasn’t right here. You needed answers for what just happened.

And you knew Tom had the answers.

tag list: @meyrapp @smexylemony @og-baby-ob14 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @its-livelovelife @blisssection @harringtonmyhusband @ixchel-9275 @sparklingseb @nerdofthehighestcalibre @justmesadgirl interested in being added to the tag list? fill out the form in my bio! enjoy!~

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

A System of Sides Chapter Seven

A/N: Ayyy, Host and an ex-host here with another chapter! (Logan...please calm down...) *sighs* Fiiiine...we’ve finished editing this, so now it’s a matter of spacing out uploading them. Please validate us. (LOGAN!!!) ...I regret nothing, and I’m keeping that there. If you liked, please leave a like!

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Words: 3,402

Warnings: Talk of violence, talk of betrayal, possible talk of cheating(?)

"It's not fair! How can they just...just come to my room like that and claim that not including me in their little clique isn't personal?! I...I...argh!!!"

Virgil was pacing around his room, running his fingers through his hair, voice going from barely a mutter to just below a shout and back again, pulsing like waves between tides.

"They can't do that. They can't, they can't, they can't!" Virgil repeated over and over and over. "Oh, I can here them now, 'We were merely sharing our reasoning!' That stupid, arrogant smile Logan gets...it makes me want to punch him in the teeth! And Patton! I never thought I'd see the day where Patton betrayed me, but he seems to be doing a pretty bang up job of it!"

Virgil stopped in his pacing, arms falling to his sides. As angry as he was that he wasn't included at first and now they were doing it reluctantly, much like a child inviting the least-liked person in class to their birthday party out of pity, he was still working on crushing the part of him that actually wanted to join. After everything, he still wanted to be included, he wanted someone to care about him. Because sure, Thomas cared, but it wasn't like he was walking around the Inner World every day, able to walk by him in the hall and just smile and nod.

Why did Virgil want to be included so much? All Logan and Roman had done was hurt him. They saw what he was capable of doing to Thomas, and decided from a few select moments he was nothing but harmful, and they'd keep him as far from front-and Thomas-as much as possible. And that, more than anything, was painful. Because they were keeping him from the one person who cared, the one person who saw him for who he was; a survival instinct, one that could be useful when treated with care.

Patton had never been as bad. Patton was heavily based in emotions as well, so Virgil supposed that Patton "got it" a little more than the others did. Didn't change facts, didn't make it any easier. One person who semi-supported you but still didn't understand you and didn't front often enough with Thomas to make him influence the others to change their mind. Yeah, that was so helpful.

Virgil couldn't keep knocking Patton though. The guy always meant well. He just didn't know what that meant when it came to Virgil. Heck, half the time Virgil didn't know what that meant when it came to himself. It was just one of those things Virgil understood in abstract, but reality wasn't abstract, and as such it didn't feel real like it should.

Virgil sank onto his bed. Shouldn't he feel grateful that Patton was trying to include him at all? He was surprised that Roman or Logan hadn't just flat out said no and didn't allow him in on the truce period, and further more, they left space for him! Granted, they probably expected Patton to take up most of that time, but Patton had said he was willing to give all of that up if it would make Virgil happy. And Virgil...didn't know how to respond to that. That was an act of kindness he had never encountered before. He couldn't really fathom the possibilities that would lead to. But, then again, the others probably wouldn't allow him in front if they knew it was his turn. They might let Patton in and then Patton might pass control onto him, but once they caught wind of it even a plan as small as that would die. Virgil really, really wished there were a simple solution to this.

Okay. Stop. Too much thinking. Take a breath. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight, that worked for the most part, didn't it? In, out. In, out. It's okay, just focus on breathing until you can move to other topics.

Patton. Patton was a somewhat easy topic that pertained to his train of thought. Patton was nice. He liked cats even though he was allergic, and he enjoyed cookies more than most people probably should. Come to think of it, Patton resembled a system little pretty closely. The only thing that set him apart was that of course, he was the same age as all the others. And, well, that sort of blew that theory out of the water.

Virgil snorted. Yeah, he could still see Patton as a kid in his mind's eye, running here and there and everywhere and watching Thomas front via the TV in the living room, and randomly yell what was the right or wrong thing to do. That was how he would get Thomas to listen back then. Now he had more subtle ways of helping Thomas. He'd still watch when Thomas was fronting, but Patton was more likely to send out emotions pertaining to what Thomas was doing, or gently text a reminder to Thomas using a phone he had in headspace when he wanted to speak, rather than just shouting and announcing to everyone what had transpired. That would probably send Roman and Logan rushing into the room. Hm.

Logan. Not a bad kid, inherently, if a little big for his britches sometimes. Logan used to get along with Roman a lot. Virgil frowned. He remembered exactly when Logan and Roman had stopped talking to each other for a solid week and after that only spoken when strictly necessary. Thomas had been asked what he wanted to do when he grew up. Roman exclaimed that Thomas should act, at the same time that Logan said he should aspire to be a professor. The two had looked at each other, shocked and betrayed at the other's answer, and they had promptly launched into their first heated and brutal argument with each other about who was right and why. Virgil and Patton had only looked on in horror as the two got physical. Virgil wouldn't be surprised if Patton had simply blocked the day from his memory, but Virgil remembered. He remembered because if everything ever got that bad again, it would be his job to make sure he didn't send Thomas into a panic, and that neither of them would hurt Thomas if they attempted to assert themselves by cofronting. If Thomas got hurt...Virgil didn't even want to entertain that idea.

Finally, Virgil thought about Roman. He shuddered, not out of any real dislike for the guy himself, but rather the way he saw Virgil and treated him as a result. Virgil didn't really know what he did to first spur on Roman's dislike, but he knew that eventually, when it became clear that Virgil would often make Thomas anxious or afraid, the others' general reaction was, "That's it, you're harmful now, go pack your things and leave the island, you're gone." Virgil hated that attitude, but understood. The first time he saw Logan and Roman fight, Virgil wanted to kick them both out then and there. Thomas could function without them. Maybe not in the same way, but it would be functioning, and the short-term benefits seemed to outweigh the long-term consequences.

Only problem? The long-term consequences always outweighed the short-term benefits, full stop. No short-term benefit could outweigh years of Thomas not getting creative, not getting excited with a new idea, not imagining and working towards making those imaginations a reality. No short-term benefit could outweigh years of Thomas' fantastic problem-solving skills, his planning towards making everything he wanted possible, and his thirst for knowledge that never truly would go away. Those things were possible because Roman and Logan personified the intensity of those feelings within Thomas.

Virgil and Thomas had done research into systems before, and while they thought in theory they could be full multiple, it was also possible that they could very well be median. Everyone was dependent on Thomas being there, and Thomas seemed to have bits and pieces of everyone in him. They were exaggerated traits. Which of course meant Thomas was an exaggerated trait himself, of his social side and the side that mostly saw the light of day. But considering that gave both Thomas and Virgil an existential crisis about who was who and was anyone really Thomas, they mostly stuck to being content about not knowing exactly down to the last detail who they were, and just knowing that they were separate but co-dependent.

Logan and Roman would hate that notion if it ever came up, claiming that Virgil was just making things up in order to try and get them to cooperate with one another, but it was true. Logan probably wouldn't exist well without Roman's dreams to work towards, and Roman wouldn't work well towards his dreams without Logan's plans. Patton kept them both excited about the whole thing, and Virgil made sure they didn't do anything extremely stupid in the heat of the moment. All in all, it was a very symbiotic relationship, however unwillingly, all to help Thomas. If that wasn't median, then Virgil wasn't sure entirely what it was.

Okay, thinking about stuff that had the potential for causing a crisis. Breathe in and out. Four, seven, eight. Yeah. He could keep calm, not that the others ever admitted that. No, it was much easier to be the villain when someone was claiming to be bad all the time, unapologetically. But Virgil wouldn't apologize for trying to keep them safe. He might admit that he could go a bit overboard, but he would never outright apologize for being himself. He wouldn't want to apologize for being himself in the first place if he didn't acknowledge that it did get everyone in trouble sometimes.

Virgil looked around. He glanced to his desk and saw the old binder that was falling apart at the seams, filled with loose-leaf paper. He smiled. He grabbed a new sheet, wrote down a short letter, detailing what was going on and how he felt about it, and, feeling significantly better about himself afterwards, opened the binder to the back, opened the rings with a snap, put it in the back of the binder behind all the letters like it, and pushed the rings shut again, closing the binder. Feeling like his emotions were somewhat under control again now that the worst of them were on paper and not in his head, Virgil stood and left his room in search of something to do. Even if he weren't part of the truce, he couldn't hole up in his room every day, he would just get bored.

When Virgil got as far as the common room before doing a double-take, he mentally called the fact a success. As it was, it looked a little odd to see a myriad of board games spread out on the floor of the common room, a folding table and chairs in the center of the room, Roman, Patton, and Logan sitting in a half-circle around the table. Patton saw him and waved him over. "Virgil! Do you wanna come play? We're having a game night!"

"Game...night?" Virgil asked, frowning. "Why?"

"Well, we were thinking about it, and it seemed like we all wanted to do something tonight to stay occupied while Thomas watches a movie, and we had nothing better to do and thought it might be fun! Do you want to be the fourth? I'll even let you choose the first game!" Patton exclaimed.

Ah, so they were trying to help him feel included. He wanted to tell them they could stick it, that he wasn't interested, but something inside him told him not to. Maybe it was the small part of him that wanted to be part of the group, maybe it was simple curiosity, who knows, but Virgil was inclined to listen to it, being in a good mood. "Okay, sure, why not?" Virgil asked, sitting down at the only open space on the card table.

Patton cheered and Logan offered a pained smile, while Roman didn't even try to pretend he was pleased. He wasn't actively displeased, though, so Virgil would count that as another success.

"What do you want to play first?" Patton asked.

Virgil looked at the games around them and frowned. He could identify some of Patton's choices right off the bat. Chutes and Ladders, Candy Land, and Uncle Wiggly all caught his eye immediately with the bright colors that no doubt Patton remembered fondly from their childhood. He could also spy some of Logan's choices: Trivial Pursuit, Scrabble, Up Words, all of those seemed pretty obvious choices for the logical personality to enjoy. Roman's choices seemed to lean more to the classics: Monopoly, Sorry, Trouble, and the like were also sitting around. Virgil saw one that he liked and was pleasantly surprised that it was placed on top of a stack, no doubt on purpose. "Anyone feel like playing a round or two of Taboo?"

Logan wrinkled his nose while Roman laughed. "Sure, Virgil, that sounds like a great idea! I don't think we could play teams but we can see how many we can get in a certain amount of time, sound good guys?" Patton said.

Roman nodded. "Yes, I believe it will be fairly easy to win at this game! I can come up with very creative ways of expressing the word that needs to be guessed, this will no doubt be a cinch!"

"I fail to understand the appeal of the game, considering that it follows no logical sequence and takes out the most common words to describe something, making you have to think in illogical patterns, but if you are interested in it, Virgil, I suppose we could try it."

"Wow, nerd, you really are trying to play nice," Virgil laughed. He opened the box and took out the cards, looking around at everyone. "Who wants to guess first?"

"Oh! Oh! I'll go first!" Patton exclaimed. "I can do it!"

Virgil nodded. "Close your eyes, then, so I can show the others the card."

Patton nodded and closed his eyes, covering them with his hands. Virgil pulled out the card and almost laughed at the irony, because the card was ADULTHOOD. He put it on the table and the other two groaned. Underneath the word ADULTHOOD were also the words GROWING UP, PARENTING, ADOLESCENCE, CHILDHOOD, and COMING OF AGE.

"Let's do this," Virgil said, pulling out the timer and starting it.

"Okay, um, this involves..." Logan floundered.

"This is the final stage of one's life!" Roman said confidently.

The response Patton gave had Virgil giggling uncontrollably on the inside and he barely concealed his smile. "Oh! Adultery!"

"That's not--!" Logan exclaimed, clenching his hands. "Patton, that's not the word for it."

Patton frowned. "What do you mean? Of course it is!"

"No it's not!" Logan said. "What other words like that one do you know?"

"Um...I don't know? Growing up, I guess?"

"Keep trying," Virgil said, almost shaking at the force of keeping back his laughter.

"Am I getting closer?" Patton asked hopefully.

"Sure, you could say that, you've gotten on the forbidden words list, at least," Virgil said amused.

Patton's face lit up with a smile. "Oh! I did! That's good, right?! Um, if it's not adultery, and it's not growing up...um, is it just adult in general? Coming of age? Being a man, woman, grown person? Um...I don't know! Can I just look?"

"No!" Roman and Logan exclaimed at the same time. "That defeats the purpose of the game!" Logan protested.

Patton pouted. "I don't know what it is, though, and I really, really want to!"

Virgil was about to add his own two cents when the timer dinged and Virgil tutted. "Out of time already," he mused. "That was fast."

Patton's hands flew from his face and he peered down at the card. "A-dult-hood? Isn't that a bad word?"

"Why would it be a bad word?" Virgil asked, getting an idea of why but wanting to hear it from the horses' mouth.

"That's...that's cheating when you're married, isn't it?" Patton asked, one hand flying to his mouth.

Virgil couldn't hide it anymore, he chuckled and shook his head, a smirk on his face. He ruffled Patton's hair, despite the personality staring at him in shock. "No Patton, I think you got those two swapped."

"I...do...?" Patton asked. He gasped in realization. "But...but that means that I've been telling Thomas the wrong word all these years! What happens if he uses it when he's not supposed to?"

Virgil smirked. "Believe me, I think he knows what the right word is. Logan's a living dictionary, almost, I'm sure he taught Thomas the difference before he said anything bad."

Patton visibly relaxed. "Oh, okay. Thanks Logan!"

Logan just nodded. Virgil picked up another card. "All right, who's the next victim?"

They played a couple rounds of Taboo before Roman started to complain that no one was guessing his brilliant clues, which in Virgil's mind were about average as far as the game went, not that he told the youngest personality that.

"What should we play instead, then?" Virgil asked. "I got to choose first so I don't think it's fair I do it again so soon. Logan, is there anything you want to play?"

Logan blinked at Virgil, and Virgil was afraid that he had broken the logical personality after about ten seconds of no response. But then Logan slowly asked, "You...want me? To choose? Why?"

Virgil shrugged. "If Patton chooses we'll be playing a kiddy game, if Roman chooses we might be stuck with Pictionary. Do you really want to play either of those, at all?"

"No, I suppose not," Logan said with a small smirk. "How about we play Trivial Pursuit? There are several additions which could prove to be interesting, I know in fact that there's a Harry Potter one..."

Patton gasped. "I love Harry Potter!" he exclaimed.

"As do I," Roman said with a pleased smile.

"Should we play that, then?" Virgil asked.

After getting three affirmatives, Logan stood in search of the box for the game. "It's here somewhere..." he muttered. "Aha!"

He pulled out the box and Patton cheered excitedly while Roman just rubbed his hands together in excitement. Virgil smiled when he was sure no one was watching him. This was how it should always be, all of them getting along and having fun, laughing. They were roommates in a sense, after all. Shouldn't they be nice to one another?

The game flew by in Virgil's mind. Though he was too busy watching the others to pay much mind to the game. Logan's eyes lit up whenever he knew the answer to a question, and Roman wiggled excitedly in his seat whenever it was his turn. Patton was just beaming the whole time, and not one argument arose from the table. It reminded Virgil almost painfully of when they were children. He wished Thomas were here to see this, but he'd definitely be hearing about it the first chance Virgil got to share it.

When the game was finally over, Roman beating Patton by one question and Logan two pieces behind, Virgil coming in last with two pieces period, everyone was ready to call it a night. After all, Thomas had to get up early tomorrow, and someone needed to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for it. Since that person wasn't going to be Virgil, he took his time getting back to his room. He stacked all the games on the card table so no one would trip on them in the morning, and meandered back to his room, writing a second letter in one day (which was unusual for him) before deciding to head to bed.

As he fell asleep, thoughts swirled in his head. Some were about the past, some were about the future, but the most he had were about the present, and how nice it felt to not be at odds with everyone for once, and how sweet it felt to actually belong somewhere besides by Thomas' side hidden away in his room.

Yeah. He could get used to this. Definitely.

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[jolienjoyswriting]

Electrical Disturbance, Ch. V

Chapter 5 of "Electrical Disturbance," a Rockman (Dr. Chou Numbers universe) fan fiction story.

I dunno what I was thinking with the dialogue in this one.  Probably, weird things.  I'm a weirdo.  ):

Word count: 4,110 – Character count: 23,847 Originally written: July 19th, 2020

Kaitlin's suspicious nature leads her to find out that, maybe, the Rights are alright.

Thomas Right, Roll, Rightot, Rock/Rockman, “Rockman” (series), Turboman, and related characters and concepts created by various people and © Capcom Co, Ltd. "Dr. Chou Numbers" concept and related characters and concepts created by and © Jussy Kaitlin/Thundergirl created by and © KaitlinEXE

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    “– significant damage – radiation–”     “– lin!  Kaitlin…!!  Wake–”     “Why – Blues do–”     “I say leave – is.  Clearly, she – threat.”     “Shut up!  She–”

    There was a dizzying cacophony of voices swirling around in Kaitlin’s head.  Her optics were offline and her aural sensors were only working part-of-the-time.  She couldn’t move and couldn’t speak, and she wasn’t entirely sure where she was or how she got there.  All she knew was that the parts of her body that she could feel really hurt…

    “Thundergirl?  Kaitlin?  Answer if you can hear me.”

    The girl twitched.  What was going on…?  All those voices from before were gone… except for one.  It was a gentle-but-firm voice calling out with a sense of urgency.  Part of her didn’t want to bother responding, but…     “I… I hear you…”     She thought she may as well.

    “Kaitlin, I know you can’t see me,” the voice told her, “but this is Dr. Thomas Right.”     The girl went silent.  She had a feeling that’s who it was…     “Kaitlin, you’ve suffered some serious injuries.”     “Yeah, no kiddin’…”  She grumbled as she said, “I can’t see, I can’t move…  Whatever happened must’a been pretty bad.”     “You don’t remember because… I had to reroute power from your memory to your core.”     “Where’s my dad?”  Kaitlin frowned – at least, in her head.  “Where’s Papa Wily?”     “I know you think I’m the enemy, but whether or not that’s true, I assure you… I live by the Hippocratic Oath of Medics and–”     “I… don’t know what that is…”     “‘I carry out this oath,’” the doctor began quoting, “and break it not, may I gain for ever reputation among all men for my life and for my art; but if I break it and forswear myself, may the opposite befall me.’”     She paused before telling him, “I didn’t understand a word’a that.”     “It means that I am, first-and-foremost, a Doctor of Robotics.  My formal alliances have no place in my laboratory or in any other place where I may repair a robot in need.”     Once again, the girl too a long pause to consider his words.     “Whether you trust me or not,” the doctor added in a softer tone, “I will do my best to return you to full health.”     “Don’t… guess I have much choice, huh?”     “You could ask me to leave you as you are… though, I believe that there are several people waiting outside for you to recover.”     “Any… friends?”     “They seem to think so.”     Kaitlin sighed…  Then, she said something she wasn’t sure she’d regret, later:     “Go ahead ’n patch me up, Doc…  I don’t trust you… but I trust your words.” –––––

    “–lin, Kaitlin…?  Kaitlin?”     “What, what…?”     The girl waved a hand in no specific direction… until it smacked into something.  Immediately, her eyes shot open and she looked up to see…     “Gah!”     She’d accidentally plopped her hand on Dr. Right’s face.  Needless to say, she was quick to move it right back off.

    “S… sorry!”  She paused…  “Wait, no, I’m not!  You’re my… my…”     The girl sighed, suddenly, shaking her head.     “No…  No, I can’t swear vengeance against you…  You fixed me… right?”     “Ah, good!”  The doctor smiled.  “Your short-term memory, tactile sensors, and your audio-visual sensor array all seem to be working.  How do you feel?”     “Tired…”  She chuckled as she asked, “Can I get an E-Can Mini, pretty-please?  I… I promise not to threaten you ‘n your family, for now?”     Hearing Kaitlin joke made the doctor even happier.  She seemed to be doing just fine.

    “So, let me get this straight, Doc…”

    A short while after awakening, Kaitlin took a seat on the edge of a workbench.  She was still tied into his computer systems while casually sipping on a miniature Energy Can.  During that time, she took stock of her current situation.

    “Accordin’ to Breakman… that sonova– uh, I came here after gettin’ into a fight with Elecman, a few days ago, who was… under my dad’s control, at the time?”     The doctor softly nodded as he stared at a computer screen and typed… something.  Kaitlin had no idea what and didn’t care enough to ask.     “Elecman messed me up, so you had’a do some internal repairs…”     “Mm-hmm…”     “But, somethin’ went wrong?”     “That is correct, my dear.”     The girl shuddered.  “Hey… can you not call me that, ever again, please?”     “My apologies,” is what he offered, still focused on the computer screen.

    “Anyway…  You’re tellin’ me that you somehow… nuked my memories?”     “Accidentally, yes.  Up to the point where you were activated by Albert – Dr. Wily,” he corrected for her benefit.     “And… before that, I was fightin’ on your guys’ side?”     “Of your own volition, yes.”     Kaitlin sipped her drink and narrowed her eyes.  Something wasn’t adding up…     “If I was on your guys’ side…” she asked, “then why’d Breakman shoot me?”     The doctor’s typing came to a sudden stop.  Somehow, that made the girl smirk.     “What?  Ya didn’t know?  He dared me t’ zap him one after I found out I had electric weapons, but I couldn’t do it ‘cause… ‘cause he’d been so nice.”     Her smirk faded into a troubled frown.     “I… actually kind’a trusted him…  Hah, guess I know better, now!”

    There was a long, heavy pause.  The atmosphere of the room had changed, dramatically.  Dr. Right seemed just as troubled as his patient.     “I had my suspicions,” he started to tell her, “that your recent injures were caused by Blues – or ‘Breakman,’ as he prefers to go by, in some instances.  When Rock and Joseph brought you in, there was an unusual char pattern on your skin and clothes.  You were burning-hot with radiation…”     Kaitlin immediately looked herself over… only to find that she was wearing the same outfit she’d had on when Breakman had attacked her.  A double-check confirmed that neither her clothes nor her skin seemed any the worse for wear.     “I replaced the corroded parts of your synthetic skin,” Dr. Right commented, noticing his patient’s curiosity, “and Roll made you a new set of clothing once she’d heard what happened.”     She blushed a little as she realized the doctor probably had to have seen her bare-skinned… and very-likely had to get into her chest panel, among other places.  Despite knowing it was her own-dang-fault for permitting him… she still shuddered when she thought about it.

    “Hey, Doc…”     “Yes, Kaitlin?”     When Kaitlin was finally over being creeped-out, she asked the doctor, “If I was your guys’ friends… why did Breakman-Blues shoot me?”     “Ah, well…” he started as he returned to his computer console, “Blues is the type of individual who doesn’t trust easily.  I suppose he considered you a threat when you tore through our house, making a mess, and claimed that you were working for Dr. Wily.”     She shrank a little.  “I’m… sorry for that, just so you know.  A-and, not just because you fixed me.  Twice.  Apparently…”     “Although you certainly gave us quite the start,” he said, matter-of-factly, “it could have been far worse.”     He offered the girl a smile.     “You could have been aware of your weapon systems.”     “Heh…  Maybe, that’s why Breakman shot me…”     “Perhaps.”  He frowned as he added, “However, I do I find it rather disturbing…”     She blinked as the doctor looked back at his screen.  “What’s that?”     “From what you’ve told me, you were prone to attack Blues… yet decided against it.  He, then, attacked you with a sort of… ‘just-in-case’ mentality.”  He paused…  “Kaitlin?  Would you have attacked Blues?”     “I… I was gonna, but…”     She paused, rubbing her arm and looking away.     “S… sorry, Papa Wily…  I can’t attack someone who’s only been nice to me!  Although… he did deck me with his shield!  A-after I got mad and tried to zap him a little…  He’s… he’s just so infuriating!”     “What did he say to anger you?”     “I don’t remember, exactly…”  The girl looked up.  “I just remember… he said something that really ticked me off, so I punched him… then he walloped me in the gut… then I think he said something that made me so mad, I ended up tryin’ t’ zap him one.  He whacked me with his shield – and blocked my attack, thankfully – then I think I joked about zappin’ him for real… which led to this… stand-off… where I decided not to… but he, apparently, didn’t.”

    “Blues is… something of a mystery…”  The doctor sighed.  “Even though I was the one who created him, I have yet to figure out what truly motivates him.  He’s slowly dying… yet he refuses to let me replace the nuclear core Dr. Wily installed with a more stable solar unit.  He helps Rockman from-time-to-time… yet he is just as likely to attack him – usually as some sort of ‘test.’  He keeps close watch of us all… yet he doesn’t want to be a part of our family.  In fact, the only stable relationship he seems to have is with Roll.  But, I guess that makes sense…”     He smiled to himself.     “Roll is the only one not trying to change him…”     “Heh.  That’s what he said.”  She paused.  “Hey, uh… speakin’a Roll…”     “Don’t worry.”  The doctor looked at Kaitlin with that same smile.  “Roll is perfectly fine.  She’s experienced far worse than a fully-charged Thunder Beam.”     Kaitlin clasped her hands together before resting them under her mouth.     “I wanna tell her I’m sorry…”     She twitched as he turned and squeezed her shoulder…     “It was hardly your fault.  Roll is a brave, kind, caring girl who would gladly put herself in the line-of-fire to save a friend… or even a stranger!  She and her brother are very like-minded, in that way…”     “Awfully feelsie… aren’cha, Doc?”     The doctor flinched, immediately letting go of her shoulder and turning back to his console.  That made Kaitlin chuckle, but only a little.

    “I-in any case,” the doctor said after clearing his throat, “you’re free to leave and go wherever you want – both within the compound and outside of it.  Elecman returned to Nevada to undo his prior damage, Rockman is in New York, and Roll and Rightot are in the main lab.  Oh!  And, Joseph is waiting for you in the living room.”     “‘Joseph?’”  She tilted her head with a smirk.  “Another one’a your pet projects…?”

    “Kaitlin…!!”

    Kaitlin’s eyes widened and her body stiffened.  The instant she arrived in the Right Labs living room, she was assaulted by… bizarrely… what looked to be a human-sized fox-man!  He wasn’t trying to lick her, though… thankfully.  Just… hug her.  Really… really tightly…!

    “Get– get off…!”     He leaped back with a yelp and blankly stared.  She’d given him a dose of electricity.  A moment later, he smiled and rapidly wagged his tail.     “God… I’m so glad you’re okay!”  The fox sniffled…  “When… when Rock and I found you laying there, all burned-up and warped, I…”     “Hey, save the waterworks for someone else, okay?”     He nodded and tried… but he just couldn’t help but cry.     “I’m just so relieved…” he hiccuped.  “I dunno what I’d ever do if I lost you…”     “Now, that’s funny ‘cause… I do know what I’d do if I lost you!”     “Wh… what?”     “This.”  She brightly smiled.  “‘bye!”     With that, she casually strolled by the fox and headed into the main lab.

    “Watch out, Rock!  There’s a flock of Mini-Pipis heading your way!”     “I’m on it, Roll!  Rock Buster…!”     “Yeah!  Go get ‘em, das!  Who’s a ve-ry might-y Ro-kku-maaan, das?!”     “Ha hah, thanks for the cheer, Rightot!  I’ll make you proud!”     “Rightot is already proud of Rokkuman, das!  Roll-chan, too!”     “Just come back to us in one piece, Rock…  That’s all I ask!”     “Will do, sis!  Rock, out!”     “I love it when Rokkuman says that, das.  It’s so ‘punny!’”

    Kaitlin stood at the doorway of the laboratory, arms crossed and a smirk on her face.  She’d always wondered what the “central control hub” of the place looked like during one of Wily’s campaigns…  Strangely, it didn’t look much different from her dad’s “control room.”     “A three-by-three grid with icons of the Robot Masters…”     “Kaitlin?”  Roll turned around and smiled.  “Welcome back!”     “Live satellite feed of Rockman’s current location…” the brunette commented as she strolled in.  “A rough, 2D map of the current ‘stage…’  And, of course, a navigator –”     Roll’s smile brightened as she was pointed to.     “Just like with the Robot Masters…”     “We’re here to keep Rock motivated and give him lots of help navigating the terrain!” the blond-haired girl explained as she removed her headset.  “I’m usually here, warning him of incoming enemies, but Rightot sometimes helps out!”     “Yeah, yeah, go, go!!” the big, green robot shouted, pumping his fist and screwdriver-hand into the air as he watched Rockman blast through a series of small, flying robots.  “Super figh-ting robot!  Rokkumaaan, das!”     “Of course…”  The girl closed her eyes and her smile became labored.  “Rightot gets a little carried away with praise, most-of-the-time…”     Her face returned to a happy expression, then.

    “So, what brings you to the lab?”     “Well,” Kaitlin started, her own expression falling.  “Firstly… aren’t you… ya know… mad at me?”     Roll tilted her head.  “For what?”     “For gettin’ you zapped by ‘Electman?’  Don’cha remember…?”     “It’s ‘Elecman,’ and of course I do!  But, why would I be mad at you?”  Her smile brightened.  “No one forced me to jump in front of his attack!  I did it all on my own!”     “But, why…?”     “Because…”     The girl flexed one arm, putting her opposite hand on that bicep.  She winked at Kaitlin, then, continuing to smile.     “That’s what heroes do!”     “Uuuhh…”     “Look,” the girl started, putting her hands on Kaitlin’s shoulders.  “Whatever you’re going through, we can work it out.  I know that somewhere, deep inside, the Kaitlin I know and love is still there!  And, if she isn’t?  Well, then…”     She winked, again.     “I’ll just have to do my best to earn this one’s trust!”

    Kaitlin’s expression became confused… then suspicious.  She opened her mouth, then closed it, then after a few seconds, she asked Roll a simple question…     “Are… are you coming onto me?”     Roll’s face turned slightly red and she became visibly flustered.  But, then…     “Oh, wait…  You were kidding, right?”     She pulled the brunette into a big hug, laughing and smiling.     “Oh, Kaitlin…  You’re such a funny girl!  No wonder Joseph adores you!”     “Ah–  Fff…”     Kaitlin was at a loss… so she just hugged the girl right back.  Granted, she wasn’t… quite as enthusiastic about it.  Actually, that hug kind of made her wonder if Roll wasn’t attracted to her, in some way…     Maybe, she’s just this friendly with everyone… she thought to herself.  Whatever, I guess.

    “Hey, speaking of…” Roll continued after pulling back, “did you see him, yet?”     “Did I see who?” Kaitlin asked with genuine confusion.     “Your boyfriend!  Joseph!”     “Is he that crybaby fox I met on the way in here?”     The blond girl nodded tilted her head.  She looked like she might scold Kaitlin, but…     “I remember when I caught you two kissing under the apple tree!”  She softly sighed…  “It was sooo sweet and romantic!  I felt bad about intruding, but I–”     “That’s disgusting.  I would never–”     “Aww, Kaitlin…!  You don’t have to put on that tough-girl act around me!  We both know you’re head-over-heels for him!”     Kaitlin scowled as Roll giggled.     “You’re… serious… aren’t you?”     The other girl blinked a couple of times.  Then… a look of realization came over her.     “Oh, right!”  She slapped one closed hand into the other.  “You lost your memory!”     “That’s what everyone keeps tellin’ me…”     “Okay, well then…”  Roll smiled.  “Joseph was Kaitlin’s friend.  He’s a silly, emotional guy with a cute face and a fluffy tail!  He kind’a likes me… but I think he likes Kaitlin more!”     “Why… are you talking about me in third-person, Roll?”  Kaitlin tilted her head and scowled.  “I’m right here.”     “When I say ‘Kaitlin,’” she explained, “I mean– oh, wait!  Better idea!”     The girl cleared her throat and started over.     “I’m sure he loves Thundergirl!  You’re… not Thundergirl right now, right?”     “I’m not Thundergirl, ever!” Kaitlin exclaimed.  “I barely even know who that is!”     “Perfect!”  Roll beamed before telling her, “Joseph and Thundergirl were super-close friends and I’m pretty sure he loved Thundergirl!”     “He loved my supposed ‘superhero identity’ before I supposedly lost my memories?”     “That’s right!”     Kaitlin rubbed her cheek while Roll nodded.     “This conversation is confusing and annoying…” she grumbled.  “I think I’d remember being a superhero with a furry freak for a boyfriend.”     “Not if your memory was reset!”     “Yeah, but–”  Kaitlin huffed, shaking her head.  “Whatever.”

    “Roll-chan, Roll-chan!”     “Rightot,” Roll called to the big, green robot, “I asked you not to call me that!”     “But, Roll is small and Roll is cute, das!  So, the Japanese honorifics–”     She half-heartedly laughed before interrupting with, “What did you want, Rightot?”     “Oh!  Right, das.”  He pointed to the screen.  “Rockman is about to fight Turboman, das!”     Kaitlin perked.  “Car Bro…?”     “Oh!!”  Roll turned back.  “E-excuse me, Kaitlin!��     “Uh… sure.”

    Kaitlin rubbed the back of her head, watching Roll hop over a table and grab her headset.  Curiosity overtook her, then, and she decided to pull up and chair and watch Rockman fight one of her brothers… who she was silently rooting for, despite all the hospitality.

    “Okay, Rock!” Roll called through her microphone while her brother came up to a tall shutter-style door.  She read from a screen, telling him: “Turboman is a fast, transforming Robot Master.  His weapon is the Burning Wheel which, as the name says, summons four flaming orbs that rotate like a wheel, burning everything they touch with sticky, napalm-like gasoline – including you!  He’s perfectly-tuned for speed, but he isn’t very agile.  Don’t let him draw you in with his high-performance exhaust system or ram you with his Crash Drive attack!”     “Got it, Roll!” the boy called back.     “Good luck, Rock!  We’re all counting on you!”     With that, the video feed became staticky and communication ceased.

    “H… hey, I was watching that.  What happened…?”     “Huh?”     Roll turned around.  Kaitlin was standing up with an angry look on her face.     “Oh, that happens whenever Rock gets close enough to one of Wily’s Robot Masters!” the girl explained with a smile.  “See, Doctor Wily installs these… jammer… thingies in his robots that keep us from contacting or recalling Rock from the area until it’s disabled…  It… always really worries me…”     The blond girl frowned, wringing her hands.  Meanwhile, Kaitlin tilted her head.     “Huh.  I guess that makes sense…  Papa Wily wouldn’t wanna let Rockman get the upper hand and cheat his way through a fight!  He sure could with–”     “‘Papa Wily,’ das…?”     Rightot stood up from his seat and spun around…  His thick, triangular eyebrows pointed down and his shiny, red eyes focused on Kaitlin.     “Kaitlin-chan is a Wily robot, das?”     “Kaitlin-chan,” the brunette mocked, putting one hand on her hip and smirking, “is a Wily robot, das.  What’s it to ya, Big Green?”     There was a long, heavy silence as the two stared each other down.  Then…     “Well, any friend of Roll-chan is a friend of Rightot, das!”     The green giant simply smiled… she thought… and turned back around, much to the girl’s confusion…

    “You Right-‘bots’re too trustin’,” she laughed… before she frowned and added, “but I’m the same way, so…”     “You say that like it’s a bad thing!”     “Well, considerin’ your… brother, I guess?”  She looked over at Roll.  “Considering your brother, Blues the Breakman, broke me for my trust…”     “Listen…”     Kaitlin blinked as Roll quietly walked over.  When the girl took her hand, she blushed a little.  Roll was looking right into her eyes, for some reason…

    “I won’t make excuses for Blues, but I want you to know that his actions don’t reflect how any of us feel about you.  Okay?  I know you made a mess that Rock had to clean up and you scared Elecman bad enough to zap you, but even so… I like you.  I trust you!  You’re a good person, Kaitlin, and no amount of Wily code or Wily branding is going to change that!”         The brunette continued to blush.  Roll wouldn’t stop giving her that bright, friendly smile or turn her shiny, green eyes away.  She kept both hands tightly wrapped around hers, too.  It was… uncomfortable.     “H-hey… i-if you’re gonna flirt with me, um…”     “I’m not flirting with you!!”     Roll threw the other girl’s hand down before glaring and puffing her cheeks.     “I’m trying to say you’re my friend!” she furiously shouted.  “What’s wrong with you?!”     “I dunno…”  Kaitlin turned away, rubbing her arm.  “May– maybe I was hoping you… were… flirting with me?”     “Wh… what?”     When Roll actually started to blush, herself…     “You know I’m kidding, right?”     She awkwardly smiled and canceled her decidedly-dumb joke.     “I barely know you, and–”     Her eyes went wide, then.  Roll… had slapped her!     “It’s not nice to play with a girl’s feelings – even if you are a girl!”     When she turned away and crossed her arms, Kaitlin felt… a little guilty.     “Roll, hey, I was–”  She paused.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.”     “Well… at long as you’re sorry, I guess it’s okay.”     Roll turned back and pulled Kaitlin into a brief hug.     “To be honest… I’m probably sending you the wrong message by being so friendly, to begin with!  It’s just that Thundergirl was a really good friend – just… a friend,” she quickly clarified.  “We’d sometimes e-mail each other about stuff.  Sometimes… we’d even talk about–”     “At the risk of making you mad, again… are you sure you two were just friends…?”

    “I just said…!” Roll half-shouted, anger flaring in her eyes and on her face.  Once she calmed, she sighed… “Yes, Kaitlin… we were just friends.”     The girl smiled.  Then, she thought about something…     “As far as I know, I mean?  Thundergirl never seemed like she was interested in me, like that, and I know I wasn’t with her – no offense!  Besides…”     The girl winked.     “I think she was pretty happy with that rascally fox of hers!”

    “Okay.  I believe you,” Kaitlin said, finally smiling.  “Thanks for clearing that up.  But, can I tell you something as a friend, Roll?”     “What’s that?”     She sighed a little, rubbing her other arm and tapping her sneaker toe against the floor…  She didn’t feel quite right about what she was going to say, but…     “As a friend… I… I do think y-you’re… really cute!” is what she ended up saying.     “You, too, Kaitlin!”     The blond girl beamed… but the brunette just tilted her head.     “Come again?” she asked.  Roll said that so fast, it was like she was prepared…     “I said, ‘I think you’re cute, too!’”  Her smile brightened as she added, “You have such nice hair, pretty eyes, a great smile, and I love your outfits!  Plus, you look really cool in purple!”     “O-oh, um…”     Kaitlin knew Roll was just being nice, but somehow… hearing all that made her feel a little flattered.  She’d said it all so candidly, too… Kaitlin didn’t know how to respond.     “Hey, Roll?”     “Yes?”     The brunette held her hand out, causing the other girl to blink.     “I’m… glad you’re my friend.  Even if we are s’posed t’ be enemies.  Heh…”     “Aww…!”     Kaitlin knew saying that was a mistake, but somehow…     “Oof.”     She didn’t mind, so much, when Roll pulled her into another overly-affectionate hug.

    “Roll-chan, Roll-chan, das!”     “What is it, Rightot?”     Both Roll and Kaitlin turned back to the big screen.  There, they saw the static clearing.  The camera focused, a moment later, and showed Rockman standing over the collapsed heap of–     “Turboman…!!”

    Roll blinked as Kaitlin ran over to the computer terminal and grabbed her headset off the keyboard.  Almost immediately, the brunette began yelling into the microphone.     “Rockman, you jerk!!”     “R-Roll?” was the reply she got back.  “Your voice sounds different…”     “I’m Kaitlin!” she corrected.  “Rockman, you… you killed my brother!!  Why…?!”     “I…  Wait, what?”     Tears filled Kaitlin’s eyes as she shouted, “Turboman is dead!  He’s dead because of you…!  He… he was one of my favorite brothers…”     She sniffled, rubbing her cheeks with one sleeve.     “We used t’ go on night drives down the highway, laughin’ and makin’ lots’a noise!  He… he actually treated me like a kid sister instead of a pest or a machine…  He was so cool…”     “Kaitlin…  I–”     “I don’t wanna hear it!”     “But, Kaitlin!  Hey?  Kaitlin…?  Kaitlin!”     Unfortunately for Rockman… the girl had tossed the headset off and stormed out.  As her body crackled with energy and the last of her angry tears rolled down her cheeks, she vowed…     “I’m gonna get that little, blue boy…  For you, Big Brother!”