#long time no poem. anyway here you go

[orpheuslament]

When being tasked with writing you a poem, I begin with what I know for certain, Dante Émile

[neverbreakheart]

[inertia-writes]

dehradun days

you meet them for the first time,

knowing it's probably the last.

might as well make the most of this time,

since life comes at you fast.

you find the strangest of signals

in the no-network zones.

cross-tent communication with folks,

just rambling about the unknown.

there's the warmth of shared laughter,

that carries you through freezing nights,

and you look up at the flickering stars,

to finally see things in a different light.

and at 11,000 ft above sea level

you finally reach the peak,

just to realise the joy was in the journey,

and the friends you made that week.

you'll visit caves & splendid cafes,

and remember the city in mere parts,

but years later, you'll still tell everyone,

how dehradun captured your heart.

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

​

[thatone-churro]

y’know just as soon as i start getting comfortable with the idea of being open/relying on my dad and him being more comfortable with my choices than i feared, i can essentially throw all that out the window with how vehemently he yelled at me at the thought of my getting my septum pierced (even though i never said i was yet. i said my side before i decide anything else). also making underhanded remarks of me never getting tattoos other than the one for my mom. like okay don’t ask me why i don’t tell you about anything or talk to you or anything. what the fuck.

[waitimcomingtoo]

A Film By Peter Parker

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter gets back into making little videos once the two of you start hanging out

warning: extreme 2017 homecoming era nostalgia

Masterlist

Of course he went for Liz.

Liz was the ingénue. She was perfect in every possible way. Perfect grades, perfect face, and the perfect boy pining after her. You’d been crushing on Peter since the third grade but with Liz around, he never noticed you.

But Liz was gone now. She had moved to Oregon following her dad’s arrest and taken Peter’s feelings for her with her. Now that she was gone, you decided it was time to stop pining after Peter from afar and start pining from up close. And so, when you walked into the cafeteria that day, you didn’t sit at the end of the table like you usually did.

“Oh, hey.” Peter smiled in surprise when you sat down next to him. Smiling was good. Smiling meant he wasn’t creeped out by you sitting so close. You gulped before giving him best smile back.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” Ned asked, making Peter give him a look. You immediately regretted your decision and wished you’d just stayed in your usual spot.

“What do you mean? She always sits with us.” Peter pointed out.

“No, she always sits down there. She’s never actually sat with us before.” Ned replied and gestured to the end of the lunch table.

“Yes, but I’m sitting here today because I needed Peters help with the chemistry homework.” You said and put your chemistry notebook on the table. You knew you couldn’t just randomly sit with them without a reason, so you came prepared.

“Oh, for Mr. Eddie’s class? It’s easy. I’ll show you my notes.” Peter’s offered with a smile. You returned the smile as he pulled out his own notebook. It was a win/win for you since you actually needed help with the homework and it would start a conversation with Peter. While he was explaining the problem to you, you never once looked down at the notebook. You were too focused on the curve of Peter’s suspiciously long eyelashes, the longest you’d ever seen on a boy. Ned noticed the way you were staring his his best friend and frowned a little.

“Does that make sense?” Peter’s asked when he was done explaining.

“Yeah, it does. Wow, thanks Peter. It sounds so easy the way you explain it. I wish this stuff came as naturally to me as it does for you. You’re so smart.” You said as if you had listened to a single word he had said.

“That’s nice of you to say but I’m really not that smart. I just like chemistry.” He replied as he blushed from the compliment.

“Oh, come on. You’re the smartest guy I know. You’re the only one that answers questions in that class. And you always get them right. When Mr. Eddie asks if anyone has any questions, I don’t raise my hand because I don’t even know what I’m confused about yet.”

“That’s I feel in English. I can barely make it through the first line in a poem and you’re already going back and forth with Ms. Teague about Pindaric odes or whatever they’re called.”

“You listen to when I talk in English?” You asked with a soft smile.

“Of course I do.” Peter shrugged. “I always find the reading boring until you raise your hand and talk about how you interpreted it. You make it interesting.”

“I liked that book we read when the kids ate the other kids.” Ned said and interrupted the moment. Your smile dropped as you and Peter looked at him with disgust.

“The one with the flies-“

“We know.” Peter cut him off.

“Anyways, thank you for helping me with the homework. I’ve been stuck on it all week.” You said to Peter.

“Ugh. That’s been me with my paper for Mrs. Teagues class. And it’s due tomorrow.” Peter groaned.

“Oh, the analysis essay? I could help you with that.” You offered.

“Really? You’d help me?” Peter smiled in surprise.

“Yeah. I already wrote mine. It would be no problem.”

Ned was watching this back and forth conversation for a while until it clicked it in head. He gasped and slapped the table, making you and Peter look at him.

“Oh my God.” Ned said. “That’s why you’re sitting here. You have a-“

“Can I talk to you for a second, Ned?” You quickly cut him off when you realized where that sentence was going. Before Ned could even answer, you grabbed his arm and pulled him outside the cafeteria to talk in private.

“You like Peter!” Ned whispered harshly. You clamped your hand over his mouth and pushed him up against the wall.

“You need to keep your mouth shut.” You hissed. “Yes, I like Peter, okay? I’ve had a crush on Peter since middle school. He never noticed me when Liz was around but now that she’s in Oregon, I might finally have my chance. I don’t want to scare him off so just keep your mouth shut and let me handle this.”

You took your hand off Ned’s mouth and he started to gasp for air.

“Oh, please. Your nose wasn’t covered. You could breathe just fine.” You said with a roll of your eyes. Ned stopped pretended and straightened up.

“So you actually like Peter? For his personality?”

“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Kinda, yeah.” Ned admitted.

“I like everything about him. And I’m gonna tell him that. Just please, don’t say anything before I do. I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

“Are you going to cast a love spell on him using a lock of his hair?” Ned whispered to you.

“What? No. Why would you even ask me that?”

“Because you’re a witch.” Ned said like it was obvious.

“I’m not a witch.” You groaned. “I just accidentally cackled that one time but it was only because I had phlegm in my throat.”

“Then about that time on the bus?”

“We’ve been over this. It was just a coincidence that that biker fell off his bike after I gestured with my hand. I didn’t move him with my mind.”

“And that one time in physics?” Ned narrowed his eyes.

“I still don’t know how that guys shirt caught on fire.” You shrugged. “It’s a mystery to me.”

“It caught on fire after he made fun of you for being a witch.” Ned pointed out.

“Maybe he was just standing too close to the flame.” You shrugged.

“He was standing in the doorway. There was no flame.” Ned reminded you.

“The magic of science.” You shrugged again.

“But what about that time-“

“Don’t bring up the nosebleed.” You whined.

“I am gonna bring up the nosebleed.” Ned hissed. “In sixth grade, our Spanish teacher got a nosebleed right after he told you to stop staring out the window and made everyone laugh at you. How do you explain that?”

“You’ve made your point, okay? Now are you gonna tell Peter or not?”

“Look, I’m not gonna expose your gross secret feelings, as gross and secret as they may be.” Ned sighed. “But Peter is still my best friend so I have to look out for him. I don’t want any spells cast on him.”

“That’s fine. There will not be any spells.” You held your your hands in defense. Just then, Flash walked by and laughed when he saw the two of you talking.

“Woah. What is this, the friendless loser convention?” Flash snorted.

“Shut up.” You snapped. Flash immediately tripped over his feet and fell to the ground, making Ned look at you with wide eyes.

“Witch!” He whispered harshly as he pointed a finger at you.

“Shut up. Let’s go back inside.” You rolled your eyes and pulled Ned back into the cafeteria.

Later that day, you met up with Peter in the library to go over your assignments. You started with his English essay and finished that within an hour before moving on to your chemistry homework.

“You can plug the numbers into your formula now using the method I taught you. And then you just solve for x.” Peter explained as you worked out a problem together.

“Hm. You make it sound so simple.” You sighed and leaned on your hand. Peter saw the way you were staring at him in his peripheral vision and felt his face heat up.

“It’s, uh, it’s pretty easy once you get the hang of it. I never liked the way Mr. Eddie taught it. I figured this out myself and it’s worked much better for me.”

“Thanks for helping me. You’re a good teacher.” You said and put your hand on his arm. Peter laughed shyly at the contact and cleared his throat.

“Thanks. And so are you. That was the best essay I’ve ever produced. I honestly worry she won’t believe I wrote it.”

“Well if she says anything, I can vouch for you. You put in good work on this essay. You deserve the credit.” You assured him, making Peter blush all over again. It occurred to Peter that he never realized how pretty you were. You’d been classmates since 3rd grade so he always looked at you as just another girl in his class. Now that you had his full attention, he didn’t feel like looking away.

“Thanks. I appreciate you helping me write it. I know it can be frustrating to work with me because of my dyslexia.”

“It’s no problem. And it wasn’t frustrating at all.” You shrugged. Peter smiled at felt better about how long it took him to write the essay.

“Thanks.” He said. You had successfully gotten him to spend time with you one on one but now you needed to commence the next phase in your plan which was to hang out in a non school related setting.

“Would you ever want to hang out socially?” You blurted.

“Like, and not do homework?” He asked. You nodded your head and he smiled before nodding as well.

“Yeah. Sure. I’d love to.”

“Cool. Me too.” You smiled. You hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that but it worked nonetheless.

“Does this weekend work?” He asked you.

“Yeah. What do you want to do?”

Hard cut to that weekend. You were on the subway with Peter and he had his phone out to record himself.

“Firts social hang out with a girl. A film by Peter Parker.” He said in a low voice before flipping the camera to face you.

“Staring me.” You smiled and waved to the camera.

“Are you sure you’re cool with me filming this?” Peter asked as he flipped the camera back to himself.

“Yeah, of course. The other ones you showed me were so cute. But why did it seem like there were so many missing parts? You were always talking about something cool that I didn’t get to see.”

“Uhhh, no reason.” Peter said and looked to the side. He had skillfully edited out any incriminating superhero activity that you were not ready to see yet.

“Well I like it. I feel like I’m on Modern Family.” You said and posed for the camera.

“Which family member would you be?” Peter laughed and zoomed in on you. With his phone blocking his face, he could shamelessly admire your face on his screen.

“Duh. Lily.”

“I can so see that.” He chuckled. The subway lurched suddenly and you both grabbed onto the pole, coincidentally putting your hands in top of each others.

“Oh, sorry. Our hands touched.” You laughed shyly.

“Oh my God. So romantic.” Peter joked, making you blush and look into his camera.

“Stop it.” You laughed and covered his phone with your hand. He laughed as well and put his phone away.

After learn you had never been, Peter decided to the Lego Store. He’d been hyping it up to you all week over text and now that it was finally happening, he hoped it impressed you. You walked in together and Peter heard you gasp.

“Big Lego Aladdin.” You gasped and ran to stand under the giant magic carpet and Aladdin made of Legos.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that string of words come out of someone’s mouth.” Peter laughed and went to stand under it with you. You looked over at him and were surprised to see he was already looking at you.

“This is even better than you described it. You need to show me everything.” You said and excitedly shook his arm.

“I can do that.” He blushed and nodded his head towards some of the sets.

Peter took out his phone to film you as you looked at everything in the store. The way you were looking around like a little kid brought a smile to Peter’s face. He zoomed in on you and caught himself staring at you fondly through the camera.

“Come on. I haven’t even showed you the coolest part yet.” Peter said and brought you over to the build your figure own station. He laughed when you gasped again and started to excitedly rummage through all the pieces. Peter didn’t bring his phone out again until you had built each other.

“Show me what you made.” He laughed from the other side of the phone.

“Looks! It’s a little Peter. He has a backpack and a beaker.” You said as you proudly showed the camera the little Peter figure you had made.

“This is Y/n. I can’t believe I found the shoes you always wear.” He said as he filmed the figure he had made of you.

“You notice my shoes?” You asked with a smile. Peter didn’t catch it because he was too busy fitting the hands of your Lego figures together.

“Look. They’re holding hands.” Peter gasped.

“Aw.” You laughed. “Us on the subway.”

“We should give them some privacy. They might not want us to hard launch their relationship.” Peter said and put his phone away.

“You’re so cute.” You laughed without thinking about it. Peter looked up at you with rosy cheeks and you gulped when you realized what you said.

“I mean-“

“Come on. I wanna take you somewhere else.” He cut you off before you could explain. He brought you to Delmar’s and ordered his usual for you to split. You sat together inside and you tried your best to remain calm. You always wondered what Peter got up to when he wasn’t at school and now you were in one of his favorite places and eating with him.

“Okay, this is Y/n’s first time eating at Delmars since he reopened. Let’s get her reaction.” Peter said as he filmed you unwrapping the sandwich.

“Wait, why is it so flat?” You laughed and held the sandwich up.

“Oh, sorry.” He chuckled. “I forgot to warn you that he always squishes it for me. But you’ll like it. Trust me. It’s much better when it’s squished down real flat.”

“Well I’m glad I now know you like your sandwiches to be squished. I would not have expected that about you.” You said and took a bite of your half before giving him a thumbs up.

“Yeah? You like it?” He asked hopefully.

“I do. Your squishy sandwich was surprisingly good.” You admitted.

“Well, I’m very pleased to hear that.” Peter smiled and phone away. “So to make it even, you have to show me one of your favorite places next time we hang out.”

“Oh.” You smiled coyly. “I didn’t realize there would be a next time.”

“There better be. I had a lot of fun with you today. How come we’ve never hung out before?”

“I don’t know. I always wanted to but you were busy running around with Ned or staring at…” You trailed off and chose not to mention Liz in case he was still hung up on her.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad we’re friends now.” You said instead.

“Me too. I’ve never had a girl friend.”

“What was that?” You said and started choking on your saliva.

“All my friends in my life were guys. It’ll be nice to have a female influence in my life.”

“Oh. Girl friend.” You smiled tightly.

You hung out another hour before taking the subway back to your respective apartments. Peter walked to you the front doors of you building and you had an awkward moment where you didn’t know if you should hug or not.

“We uh, we should probably get an ending for your film.” You said with a timid smile.

“Oh, right. Thats a great idea.” Peter smiled and pulled out his phone. He pressed record and you waved to the camera with both hands.

“So, can you give our first time hanging out a rating?” He asked you.

“9/10.” You grinned and held up two thumbs.

“What? Why’d I only get a 9?” Peter scoffed and pretended to be offended.

“I had a 10/10 time but I have to deduct a point because we saw that guy cutting his hair on the subway and I was scared he was gonna throw the scissors at us.”

“Well I would’ve just protected you with my lightning fast reflexes.” Peter said simply. You smiled at him through the phone and he smiled back. He put the camera down and looked at you with a content smile on his face.

“Seriously, though. When’s the next time we’re hanging out?”

It ended up being just a few days later. And then again a few days after that.

“Peter’s first time!” You cheered as you filmed him during one of your hang outs.

“Trying boba.” He clarified. “I don’t understand this drink. Do I eat the balls?”

“Yes. Sip it slowly so they don’t all go down your throat.” You instructed. Peter took a big sip and immediately started choking.

“Peter! I said slowly!” You said as you slapped his back until he stopped choking. You quickly put the camera down to help him recover.

Your hangouts started getting more and more frequent and Peter soon considered you a best friend. Your weekends became each others and school days were often spent together in the library or at one of your apartments. You were quickly moving up the ranks in Peter’s life, just as you hoped. And the closer you got, the more Peter could not believe he had never noticed you before.

Little did you know, Peter often found himself watching the footage he had taken of you during your hang outs with a big smile on his face. He’d rewatch the videos he had taken and realize that they were slowly becoming less of a documentary and more of a highlight reel for you. He never imagined a girl as cool as you would for him so when he realized he was starting to fall for you, he quickly repressed his feelings. Little did he know, the feelings were mutual.

“Did you always make these little videos?” You asked Peter one day as he filmed you trying to balance on the curb of the sidewalk.

“I used too make them all the time but I hadn’t for awhile. I only started them again when we started hanging out.”

“Really? Why?” You wondered and stumbled off the curb.

“I don’t know. You remind me of the time before my life got crazy. It made me want to do these again.” He shrugged. You couldn’t help but smile at that information and turned around to look at him.

“So I could be the star?” You asked and posed for the camera.

“Exactly. You’re my muse.” He played along, making you laughed shyly. When he watched the video back later that night, he knew he had meant every word of that.

Peter sat in his bedroom one day and filmed himself wearing your glasses while you did homework at his desk. He looked over you every now and then just to admire the back of your head.

“Don’t break those.” You called without looking up. All you needed to hear was the sound of your glasses case opening to know what he was doing.

“I’m not even wearing your glasses.” He lied and admired himself in the camera.

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not. But yes, I am.”

“Knew it.” You snorted.

“Hey, how come girls always smell so good?” Peter wondered. “Your hair hit me in the face when you turned too fast before it smelled like a baby in a damn meadow.”

“It’s just my womanly essence. Now can you stop looking at yourself long enough to help me with my chemistry homework?”

“It’ll be hard but I can try.” Peter dramatically sighed and set his phone down. You got yo from the desk and went over to the bed with a cheeky smile on your face.

“Incoming.” You announced and patted your elbow twice like a wrestler.

“No, don’t.” He pleaded. You ignored his pleas and jumped on top of him. He groaned and pushed you off, leaving you laying in the bed beside him.

“Ow. My ribs.”

“You’ll heal.” You rolled your eyes. “Now can you help me with number 7?”

“Oh, yeah. No problem. Can you check this email before I send it?” He asked and handed over his laptop. You handed him your worksheet before reading over his email draft.

“Oh, honey.” You grimaced just a few words into the email.

“Is it bad?”

“Good evening, Mrs. Howard. I hope this email finds you well. I’m so sorry for bothering you. I was just wondering if I could possibly have an extension on my midterm paper? No worries at all if an extension is not possible. I apologize for any inconvenience this email may have caused. Thank you for reading, Peter Parker.” You read out loud.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“After your name, you included the name of the class, the time you have it, and a description of yourself. She knows who you are!” You laughed and turned the laptop around to show him his mistakes.

“She may have forgotten.” He pointed out. “I can’t take any chances.”

“Peter, this email is way too submissive. You sound like such a bottom.”

“Well excuse me, genius.” He said sarcastically. “How would you write it?”

“Here.” You said and handed the laptop back after retyping his email.

“Oh, wow. That’s actually really good.” He said once he read your updated version.

“This is why we are such good friends. You have all the math and science knowledge in this little, beautiful head of yours-“

“Little?” He interrupted.

“You’re right. Sorry, I was just being nice. What I meant to say is that your head is huge.” You corrected. “Anyways, you have the math brain and I have the literary brain. It’s like you’re Einstein and I’m Victor Hugo.”

“Who the hell is that?” He laughed as he peaked at your mirror to see if his head was actually huge.

“The guy who wrote Les Mis.” You said like it was obvious.

“Never heard of it.”

“What? You’ve never seen Les Misérables?” You asked in a thick French accent.

“Huh?”

“We have to watch it. It’s so good.” You said and snatched his laptop back. You pulled up the movie and handed it back to him.

“Oh my God. It’s two hours and 38 minutes long? And a musical? Hell no.” Peter shook his head and pushed the laptop away.

“But it’s so good.” You urged. “We can just leave it on in the background while we work. It’s super light and easy to watch.”

“Really? What’s it about?”

“Oh, you know. Just war torn France.” You mumbled.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“But you’ll like it! There’s prostitution and con men and um…oh! And orphans! You can watch it and feel represented.” You said and shook his arm.

“I hate you.” He laughed but nearly gave in to your request just to see you happy.

“Fine.” You huffed. “I finished editing your midterm paper, by the way. You don’t actually have to send that email.”

“And here is your completed chemistry homework.” Peter smiled and handed your worksheet back.

“Aw.” You gushed. “Look at us. I love cheating with you.”

“So do I. We make a great pairing.” He chuckled as he looked over at you. You looked back at him and gulped. You hadn’t realized how close you were with your arms and legs pressed against each other as you sat together in your bed. Peter knew his sheets would smell like your perfume that night and smiled at the thought.

“Now that we’re all done with our work, you know what we should do?” He asked as he moved in closer.

“W-what should we do?” You stuttered now that he was right there.

“You know what I’ve been dying to do with you for a long, long time?” He asked.

“No. I mean, I don’t know. What?” You laughed nervously. Peter moved in even closer and right when you thought he was gonna kiss you, he reached over and grabbed his laptop back.

“I wanted to show you a real musical. Not this French miserable bull crap. Have you ever seen a little movie called Hair-“

“No. I’m not watching Hairspray with you again. You scream-sang every lyric last time and I couldn’t even hear it.” You cut him off and reached over home to take the laptop back. He pulled it away at the last second and you ended up on top of him. You looked into each others eyes and both froze in the positions you were in. Your faces were almost touching but neither of you tried to pull away. Your eyes were going back and forth between his lips and eyes and he was doing the same. Like magnets, you two started to lean towards each other but before your lips could connect, May opened the door.

“What did you guys want- oh! Sorry! I didn’t realize I would be interrupting something. My bad.” May smiled sheepishly and pretended to cover her eyes. Peter burned bright red as you quickly climbed off of him.

“May.” He said warningly.

“Sorry. But maybe lock the door next time. And use protection.”She whispered the last part before shutting the door.

“May!” He groaned and threw a pillow at the door. There was a long, awkward silence before you were even able to look at each other. When you finally did, you smiled awkwardly and kept your distance.

“That was so weird. What did she think we were doing?” You laughed nervously to break the silence.

“Psh. I know.” Peter scoffed. “She said she was interrupting but we weren’t even doing anything.”

“Yeah. What did she think? That we were gonna kiss or something?” You asked and laughed like it was the most ridiculous thing you could ever suggest.

“Us? Kissing? How silly. Imagine that.” Peter forced a laugh as well and looked to the side. The awkward silence returned and you struggled to look at each other.

“Do you think she made dinner?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.

“Let’s check.��� You said and quickly got off the bed.

You didn’t discuss the almost kiss and went home shortly after. You couldn’t sleep that night because you couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your mind. No matter how much you wanted him to like you back, if Peter reciprocated your feelings, he would have kissed you.

Your pity party didn’t last long because on the subway the next day, you felt Peter put his earbud in your ear. You heard the Les Mis soundtrack playing in your ear and looked up in surprise. Peter was already filming you with a huge smile on his face.

“This guy 24601 should stop stealing bread and stick to singing. He has serious pipes.” Peter said.

“You listened to it?” You melted into a smile and held your hand over your heart.

“Yep. I stayed up all night watching lyric videos because I couldn’t understand what they were saying with their accents. It’s actually really good. I love Eponine. I just wish Marious wasn’t such an idiot. How does he not see that his best friend is clearly in love with him?” Peter asked with exasperation. You looked directly at the camera and hoped it picked up the irony before looking at Peter again.

“He’s not an idiot. He’s a romantic.” You sighed. “He doesn’t notice Eponine because he’s in love with Cosette. And course he is. She’s prettier and richer and has perfect hair. He doesn’t even see Eponine.”

“Good hair isn’t everything. Eponine is way better than Cosette.” Peter scoffed. “I’m team Eponine all the way.”

“Are you really?” You asked hopefully.

“Oh, for sure. I see why you like this stuff. These songs are awesome.” Peter said and put the other earbud in his ear. He then flipped the camera around to film the two of you sharing earbuds. As Heart Full Of Love played in your ears, you couldn’t help but longingly staring at Peter. The fact that he had stayed up late just to listen to something you suggested made you overcome with fondness for him. If he had done something like that, maybe he actually did feel the same.

“I forgot how good this album is. I haven’t listened in a while. I used to listen to it all the time back when you…” You stopped short when you realized you were about to say too much.

“When I what?” Peter wondered. You looked him in the eyes and decided that it was time to be honest. The song ended and a new, much louder one began to play in your ears.

“Back when you liked Liz. She was Cosette. I was Eponine. I was the one pining after a guy who never noticed me because he was in love with another girl. You were never mine to lose.” You admitted. Peter stared at you for a minute before pulling his earbud out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear a word you just said. Master of the House is such a banger. What did you say?” He asked you.

“Never mind.” You smiled. “It wasn’t important.”

He smiled back before getting a text on his phone. You looked at his phone when you heard it buzz and realized he was still recording. In other words, he had just recorded you saying you liked him. Your eyes went wide but you only had a second to panic when you read the text he had gotten.

“Did Liz just text you?” You asked in a quiet voice. You felt like you were about to throw up. Years of crushing on a boy who liked another girl turned into months of pinning for your best friend and now turned into a rock in your stomach. Peter stopped recording the two of you to answer her text, which felt a little like a slap in the face.

“Oh, yeah. We’ve been talking lately.” He absentmindedly replied to you as he laughed at whatever she had written.

“You have?” You asked with a dry mouth.

“Yeah. She says Oregon is pretty cool. But she wants to come back and visit this summer to see everyone.” He told you.

“And see you?” You asked with a sad smile.

“I guess so.” He shrugged. “It would be nice to see her.”

“Yeah. Totally.” You said weakly. “So how long have you guys been talking?”

“I don’t know. A few weeks? She texted me a little while ago and we’ve been catching up.”

“That’s awesome.” You lied.

“I know. I didn’t think I’d ever hear from her again after she moved.”

“Neither did I.” You said through a forced smile. You needed to get off the subway and away from Peter before you started crying. So as soon as the subway doors opened, you bolted out.

“I gotta go. See you later.” You called to him before running through the subway station. You wiped tears as you went up the stairs and didn’t stop moving until you were in a bathroom stall at school. You gave yourself five minutes to be upset before drying your face and leaving the bathroom. It sucked, but it could have been worse. Now, Peter never had to know how you felt about it.

Peter was beyond confused by your exit on the subway but he wasn’t about to get any answers from you. You dodged his texts throughout the day and didn’t dare go into the lunchroom where you knew he and Ned would be.

“Y/n isn’t here yet?” Peter’s huffed as he sat down at your usual lunch table.

“Not yet. Actually, I haven’t seen your girlfriend all day.” Ned realized.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter blushed. “And I’m pretty sure she’s avoiding me. She’s been so weird ever since this morning. Everything was fine on the subway until we got to school.”

“Well did anything happen on the subway that would weird her out? Oh no. Did you graze her boob with your hand again?”

“No. That was one time. And it was her boobs fault, not mine.” Peter whispered harshly. “We were just listening to music together and I was filming her like normal. But she could not get away from me faster once the doors opened. It was so weird.”

“Did you say anything weird to her? Girls don’t like it when you say weird things to them.”

“I know that. I didn’t say anything weird.” Peter replied as he pulled out his phone. He watched the video he had taken on the subway with no sound to see where he had gone wrong. All he saw was you looking at him with heart eyes which made his face heat up. But still, no evidence of where he messed up.

“I knew it. We were having a normal conversation about Les Mis and then I got a text from and then she ran. It makes no sense.”

“What was the text? Was it May saying something weird?”

“No. And stop saying weird. It doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.” Peter ordered. “And the text was just from Liz.”

“Oh shit.” Ned said when he heard this.

“What?” Peter wondered.

“Oh, Peter.” Ned sighed. “Peter, Peter, Peter.”

“What?” He asked again, annoyed now.

“Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter.”

“Are you gonna tell me what happened or just keep saying my name?”

“I can’t tell you. I’m sworn to secrecy. And I don’t want Y/n to put a hex on my family.” Ned said and held up his hands.

“Y/n swore you to secrecy? About what?”

“Can’t say.” Ned shrugged and zipped his lips.

“Does she not like Liz? And doesn’t want me to know?”

“Dude. Dude, dude, dude, dude. You are so close but so far.”

“So she does like Liz? Oh my God. Does she a crush on Liz? And she’s jealous that Liz texted me and not her?” Peter whispered with wide eyes.

“You’re getting colder.” Ned waved his hand. “I don’t even know how you got there.”

“That was all my guesses. Just tell me.” Peter whined.

“Hell no. I don’t want Y/n to curse my crops and make not grow for all of eternity.”

“You don’t have crops.” Peter pointed out.

“I could develop some.” Ned snapped.

“I just don’t understand what she would tell you something but not tell me. We’re best friends. She usually tells me everything.” Peter said right as his thumb accidentally hit the volume button on the video. Your confession to Peter on the subway was heard loud and clear by the two boys. Both of their jaws dropped as the video ended with you asked if Liz had just texted Peter.

“Well I wouldn’t have beaten around the bush like that if I knew you had video evidence of her saying she liked you right in your hands.” Ned sighed dramatically.

“I need to find her.” Peter said and ran out of the lunchroom. He looked around the school until he found you under the bleachers in the gym. You were sitting with your back against the wall and your knees drawn to your chest with your earbuds in your ears. When you saw Peter coming up to you, you quickly pulled them out.

“Hey.” He said and waved cautiously.

“Hey.” You smiled sadly as he sat beside you. You sat in silence for a minute as neither of you knew what to say.

“What’s going on with you? I haven’t seen you all day.” He started off. You looked at your hands to avoid making eye contact and sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been talking to Liz?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t hiding it. I just didn’t think it would interest you.”

“Well you have no idea how interesting I found it.” You laughed dryly. “What do you guys talk about anyway?”

“Well, she originally texted me to ask me to confirm I had an internship at Stark Industries because her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she knew a guy who worked there. Apparently he’s been trying to get an internship there for years and he wanted to know how I landed mine. Then we just started catching up. I only talk to her here and there, though. And it’s only ever about school or work.”

“Oh. I thought you guys were talking talking.” You couldn’t help but smile a little when you heard the word “boyfriend.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Just regular talking. When you saw her text on my phone, she was telling me about her cat getting spaded. And I didn’t know what that meant so she had to tell me. I should’ve just googled it.”

You laughed softly at that and he did too. The tension was let out of the conversation and you could finally breathe again. When you stopped laughing, you finally looked in his eyes.

“Do you still have feelings for her?” You asked quietly.

“For her? No.” He laughed. “Those are long gone. I have feelings for someone else now.”

“Oh God. Don’t even tell me. I don’t want to know.” You groaned and buried your face in your hands. Peter looked at you for a minute until an idea came to him.

“Actually, uh, I came looking for you because I was just making another video. Wanna be in it?” Peter asked and took out his phone. You looked at him like he was crazy and could not believe he had just asked that during that moment.

“I’m not really in the mood right now, P.”

“Come on. I can’t make it without my muse.” He said and nudged you slightly. You couldn’t help but to smile at that and reluctantly nodded. He propped up his phone against the bleachers and pressed record.

“In a world where two best friends have no idea how to communicate despite spending way too much time together.” Peter said in a fake deep, gravely voice.

“Okay. Shade. That’s fine.”

“What will it take for them to admit they have feelings for each other?” He kept the voice as he looked at you.

“Wait, what?” You asked and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. Peter smiled softly at you and shrugged a little.

“What’s it gonna take?” He asked again in his normal voice.

“I don’t understand.” You laughed nervously.

“I watched the video from before. From the subway. I heard what you said.” He admitted.

“Oh shit. You watched it?” You grimaced.

“Uh huh. So if you’re Eponine, I guess that makes me the idiot who didn’t realize his best friend was in love with him?”

“I guess so.” You said with a tight smile and still didn’t understand why he wanted to film this incredibly awkward conversation.

“You know, if I didn’t have a video of it, I never would have believed that you liked me.” Peter told you.

“You wouldn’t? Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t seem possible that the coolest girl I’ve ever met liked me.” He replied.

“You think I’m cool?” You asked skeptically.

“I think you’re the coolest. And you know, I watch the videos I take of you all the time. And half of them are just clips of you existing. So I do notice you. It just took me a second to catch up.” He told you. A smile tugged at your lips as you stared into his big brown eyes.

“You’re my best friend.” You told him. “I’m sorry I want more.”

“I’m not sorry.” He shrugged.

“You’re not?”

“I’m just sorry it took me so long to wake up and find that what I’ve been looking for has been here the whole time.” He said as he hooked his pinky under your chin and brought your face close to his.

“Wait, why does that sound so familiar?” You wondered.

“Don’t think about it too hard.” Peter whispered right before your lips touched. You kissed for the first time under the bleachers but it could have been in a palace for all you knew. The world disappeared around you as Peter slipped a hand behind your head to deepen the kiss. When you pulled away, you rested your foreheads together and laughed nervously together. It was a good nervous, a happy feeling of anticipation.

“Was that Taylor Swift?” You realized when you finally placed where you knew that like from.

“Shh. No.” He shook his head. “But yes, it was. You’re not the only one with good music taste.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[inkskinned]

i'm used to it, and how bad it is, and how often it's so bad that it rings like a bell inside of me, drowning out everything around me. and the truth is that i get frustrated with myself about it - again? we're like this still? again? it's not that i feel weak, precisely. it's just this sense almost like - i've already been pushing against this thing for years now, shouldn't i have gained more ground?

i get frustrated because i'm sick of picking up the loose ends every six months. i get frustrated because it's always this same shit, same problem - i lose myself in a matter of months; spiral out of control, lose touch with friends and loved ones. i stop taking care of myself and therapy gets hard and i let everything around me wilt and shrivel and fall off; start somehow both sleeping too much and not-enough. i panic-attack and cry in my car in a target parking lot, pulling my hair out and hurting my ribs from sobbing so hard - and later, when i'm better, i'm embarrassed because how could i let it get that far?

it feels like - i already have done this so many times. isn't there a way out of it? isn't there a point where i've just... won? that it never happens again, that i just get to be done? maybe this is weakness, i guess - that i still (so often!) succumb.

i am used to it, so i forget exactly how hard it gets. do you even know how many times i've laid in bed, exhausted, blank and numb and listless and said - i can't anymore. i just can't. i'm not even really upset. it's okay. i've been here long enough. so much of my life was beautiful.... i'm just... done.

do you know how many times i woke up and i said - i can't and put my feet on the floor and said i can't, i don't want to and took a shower and walked the dog and bought myself fresh bread and put a nice playlist on and said i really can't, there's no end to this and i went to work and i called a friend and i made myself cookies even if food tasted like ashes and decided that i really should wait for the new album from that artist i love and i thought i can't, it's not worth it and then i washed my hands and cut my hair and drank more water and wrote a poem and signed up for an art class at the local community college and said i can't, i can't, i won't do this again, and i paid my rent and let the dishes rot in the sink but still made myself eat anything fresh even if it meant overdrawing my account on a stupid bag of plums just because they looked delicious and do you know how often i closed my eyes and thought this is it i really fucking can't, something has to give and i have nothing left that it can take and then i went to bed and i got up and i fucking survived anyway

yesterday the local ice cream place opened up for the first time this season and they were giving out tiny samples of their new dairy-free options and i tried a mango sorbet. three months ago i was positive that februrary was going to be my last month on the planet. i am teaching my dog a new trick and i just discovered a new band i love. i got a plant from the clearance aisle and repotted her and she's been perking up. i made salmon for alison and we ate it in her new house with her new beautiful baby girl. my manager told me he keeps recommending my work to others just because i always include a stupid number of puns. tomorrow i'm trying a new dance class. tomorrow i'm maybe going to buy more plums.

i forget, you know? it's not some bone-deep strength or some magical power. it's that some part of me knows - i need to stay. in all of this; out of all of this - i just want to choose love.

[crossbackpoke-check]

the world at its beginning, dustin pearson // mosaic, linda pastan [Link to IHL’s Solar Bears connects NHL Draft prospect to Orlando] // Goin' high: Hughes chooses No. 86 with Devils // twice your size, declan mckenna // jeff bassett // blue is beautiful amy but the story is so the '90s, farrah field // what it means to be alive at the time of the resurrection of the dead, michalle gould // Quinn Hughes impresses youngest brother Luke with All-Star play // mozart songbook, joan larkin // siblings, paul klee // closeness lines, olivia de recat // andrew hancock // brother's keeper, young the giant // jason e. miczek // michigan athletics // "he ain't heavy, he's my brother", the hollies // luke hughes can follow brothers as first-round pick at 2021 nhl draft // genesis (from music for the dead and resurrected), valzhyna mort // jack hughes once had his braces 'ripped off his face' in a moment of sibling rivalry //

After Abel, Dante Émile // sportingnews // Cain, José Saramago (trans. Margaret Jull Costa) // Dave Sandford // Kin, Clan and Community in Proto-Indo-European Society, Birgit Anette Olsen // ESPN // Wikipedia // ESPN // Jeff Vinnick // Genesis, Valzhyna Mort // Puckprose // I Cast It Away, My Body, William Bearhart // Puckprose // Cain slaying Abel, Abraham Bloemaert (1590) // NHL // Clive Baker // Puckprose // NHL // Murder Ballad in the Land of Nod, Traci Brimhall // Freep // The Changes of Cain: Violence and the Lost Brother in Cain and Abel Literature, Ricardo J. Quinones // penticton western news // The Book of a Monastic Life, Rainer Maria Rilke (trans. Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy) // "A Brother Named Gethsemane", Natalie Diaz // NHL // NHL // Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan on 16 November 1581, Ilya Repin (1883-1885) NHL // Brothers, Dan Pagis (trans. Shirley Kaufman) // Fox News // NHL // NHL // Wikipedia // Fox News // NHL // Cain, José Saramago (trans. Margaret Jull Costa) // Allaboutthejersey // Allaboutthejersey // Jewish Literacy, Rabbi Joseph Telushkin

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 9 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: After Anna joins him for dinner, Bob knows he needs to accept that they really are just friends. Even though her kisses are perfection. Even though he's falling in love. But what's going to stop Anna when she realizes Bob's poems are very familiar to her?

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, Bob in gray sweatpants, eventually 18+

Length: 5700 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Bob couldn't imagine a world in which he'd go to this much trouble to make the perfect dinner for a woman who he was falling in love with, only to hear her say the words just friends. But apparently it was the world he was living in, because he spent days comparing recipes from both Bradley and Jake, hoping to make something that Anna would find irresistible.

"You should make my lasagna," Jake said for the tenth time at work on Friday morning.

Bradley snorted. "Great idea, as long as you never want to see her again. Make my homemade pasta," he told Bob. "I already gave you the recipe."

Bob just kept nodding and agreeing with whatever they said, hoping they'd eventually be quiet. Anna was coming over tonight, and he still didn't have a solid plan in mind beyond trying to convince her he'd be worth her time. That it was okay to be more than friends.

While the guys argued, Bob got himself ready to get in the air with Phoenix. He must have looked flustered, because she rubbed her thumb gently across the back of his hand when he stood next to her in the hangar. "You seem nervous. Are you still trying to figure out what to make for dinner?"

"Yeah," he replied quietly.

"Oh, Bob. She's not going to care what you make. It could be a grilled cheese sandwich."

"I always burn those," he said with a small smile. "I just feel like this is pointless. I invited her over anyway even though I know she just wants to be friends, but I'm still standing here hoping for more. I shouldn't be doing this, even if we did makeout in her office."

Nat sighed and asked, "Do you want my grandma's recipe for bruschetta chicken? You liked it when you tried it at her house last summer, and it's not that hard to make."

His eyes lit up. "Please." 

He'd only have a little bit of time to himself to prepare the meal and cook it before Anna came over, and he listened as Nat called her grandma and asked her to send it over. Before they were even called out of the hangar to start the day, he had a photo of the handwritten recipe in his phone.

"Nat, you're a lifesaver."

"Just save me some of the leftovers."

--------------------------

Friday was going so well for Anna, she almost forgot to be nervous about dinner. She met with the dean to discuss how her classes were going, and he even brought up the word tenure which sent her into a giddy spiral where she treated herself to a candy bar from the vending machine which she couldn't really afford. She carried it out to eat lunch in the quad with her friends along with her regular, uninspired sandwich and ginger ale.

She hadn't mentioned a word about going to Bob's house for dinner, but she was absolutely certain both ladies knew about it. She almost found it comical the way they were trying to get her to say something about it, but Jessica was clearly ready to boil over.

"Hi," Anna greeted, biting into her Snickers bar as she settled on the bench between them. Advanced Calculus casually offered her some carrots and hummus while Jessica's cheeks started to grow a furious shade of pink. 

"When were you going to tell us Bob invited you over for dinner tonight?" she exclaimed. 

Anna shrugged and said, "I was probably just going to tell you about it on Monday since it's nothing because we are just friends. It's only as exciting as it would be if I went over to your place for dinner."

"That's exciting, too!" Jessica said. "You should absolutely come over for dinner! But you're wrong, because it's not as exciting as Bob cooking dinner for you!"

"Jess. Chill out," came the voice from Anna's other side. "She'll learn soon enough that dinner cooked by one of the Top Gun boys is essentially a marriage proposal on a plate. A very sexy and delicious marriage proposal. You and he will be sleeping together in no time."

Anna chewed up the last bite of her Snickers and shook her head. "You're both wrong. Bob and I are just friends. The dinner means nothing, and we're not going to sleep together."

"Oh, please!" Jessica was back to practically shouting now. "If you think he's actually okay with all the making out, then you've lost your mind. He doesn't want it to be meaningless. He likes you."

Anna looked at her feet. "I know he does. I like him too."

"Then stop stringing him along! I don't understand what the problem is here, Anna."

She sat quietly now, no longer feeling so great as she picked at her sandwich.

"Hey, I know Jess sounds like an excitable terrier, but maybe you need a little tough love," Advanced Calculus said as she dipped a carrot into the hummus. "You can talk to us, you know. You can tell us what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," Anna whispered as her mind flooded with thoughts of Kevin and what he might be up to at the moment. 

Jess took a deep calming breath before she said, "There's just no good reason to put your dream man in the friend zone. And don't even try to lie and say Bob Floyd isn't perfection."

"He is," Anna whispered. Other than her infatuation with Sky Writing, Bob was the closest thing to a dream come true that she'd ever encountered before. But she did have her reasons, and she was too embarrassed to talk about it out loud. She was certain that Jess already knew her current financial state was in ruins, and it might be nice to have her friends understand where she was coming from, but she didn't want them to pity her. That was the last thing she needed right now. "You know what, I think I'm going to get ready for my next lecture."

She was on her feet and rushing away as her friends called after her, but she didn't stop walking until she reached her office. She was not going to cry over this, and she definitely didn't want to cancel on Bob. The only thing she could do to calm down was look at all of the books on her shelves, letting her gaze glide over the colorful spines. Then she read the note from Bob that was tucked in her copy of Papillon.

Freedom would feel like being so in love, you'd willingly let another person lock you to their side.

-------------------------------

Bob had a fully stocked kitchen filled with a nice set of pots and pans and sharp knives and anything else he could possibly want, but right now, it was like he'd never cooked anything before in his life. Nat's grandmother actually had atrocious handwriting, and he could barely make out the measurements in the photo he had to work with.

"Basil," he muttered to himself, grabbing the leafy greens from the cutting board and wondering why it looked like he was supposed to use three cups of them. "I didn't even buy that much!"

He took a deep breath and walked around his kitchen, trying to clear his head. Anna was going to grab an Uber. She would be arriving in about an hour with wine and dessert. He wanted to feed her the most delicious meal he could muster, but right now he was just looking at the chicken breast on the plate in front of him like he'd never seen food before.

And he just knew Jake and Bradley never had to work this hard for a woman in their lives. Jake could rely mostly on his looks if he wanted to, and Bradley was the luckiest person he knew, reuniting with the love of his life after ten years and getting married approximately a day later. "No," he whispered, "that's not fair to them." He knew he was wrong. He knew both of them worked to get where they ended up, and he shouldn't be putting himself down so much. 

He glared at the chicken and picked up a knife. "This is fine. No problem." He had to fudge some of the measurements which made no sense, and he'd suggest to Nat that maybe her grandmother should take an eye exam, but the recipe really wasn't too terribly hard. Soon he had the browned chicken in the oven, and he set to work on the bruschetta topping and started boiling some water for the pasta. He was just adding another tablespoon of balsamic vinegar to the tomatoes and basil when he heard Anna's beautiful laughter.

Bob nearly knocked the bowl to the floor in his haste to get to her. After grabbing a dish towel for his hands, he rushed toward his front door and saw her on his porch. She was wearing a little sundress that he'd seen her in before with her worn out denim jacket over it, and he froze a few feet inside his screen door just so he could look at her. She was juggling a shopping bag and a bottle of wine, and that's when he realized she was talking to Suzanne.

"Oh, no, I'm not in the Navy," she was saying as she tossed her beautiful, red hair over her shoulder. "I'm a professor at San Diego State University. My name's Anna."

She stretched her hand out, and then Bob heard Suzanne's voice. "I'm Suzanne, and that's my cat, Sylvester. I must say, I had no idea Robert got himself a girlfriend. And such a pretty one!"

He desperately wanted to interrupt their conversation before he could hear what Anna's response was going to be, but he just couldn't. She was standing there in the last rays of the setting sun, blushing as she said, "Bob and I are actually just friends. Just good friends."

There was a beat of silence before Suzanne laughed. "Have you seen him? And he's even sweeter than he is handsome!"

Anna was laughing nervously, and Bob's heart was pounding, but he opened the screen door to bail her out anyway. "Hey," he greeted as naturally as he could, and then Anna's apprehensive gaze met his. God, all he wanted to do was drag her inside, push her up against his living room wall and kiss until she realized he wasn't going to hurt her.

"Bob," she whispered, taking a small step in his direction. Her eyes were wide and perceptive, like she could read his every thought on his face. She cleared her throat and said, "I brought wine and some cookies."

Helpless to do much of anything else, he smiled at her. "Dinner's almost ready." Then he leaned further out the door and said, "Hi, Suzanne."

His next door neighbor looked delighted as she glanced between him and Anna. "I was just talking to your charming friend here, Robert. Cooking dinner for someone certainly sounds romantic to me."

Bob was gripping the door frame as he watched Anna's face fill with panic. Then she blurted out, "Why doesn't Suzanne join us?"

-------------------------------

The only thing Anna could think to do was sabotage the dinner she'd been looking forward to all week. She watched Bob's face fall slightly as he realized she invited his next door neighbor to join them for a very platonic dinner. And since Bob was the sweetest man Anna had ever met, he recovered immediately, turned to Suzanne and said, "You're more than welcome."

Ten minutes later, Bob was opening the bottle of cheap wine she'd brought while Anna watched the veins in his hands. He was graceful and lovely, and Suzanne was talking nonstop as he poured three glasses. She had nobody to blame but herself for inviting a third wheel along. The older woman was really more of a safety net. Someone to prevent Anna from kissing Bob. Someone to stop her from falling completely in love with him.

The whole house smelled amazing, and she knew this dinner was supposed to be just for her. She hadn't eaten a real meal like this, other than at the cookout, in months and months. The first bite of chicken, bruschetta and pasta was delicious enough that she moaned softly. Bob watched her take a second bite, and it was incredible. The third bite left her staring at him in wonder.

"You're the best cook in the world," Anna informed him, cutting across Suzanne talking about her cat. She didn't even care if she was being rude, the food was perfect. And it would have somehow been even better if the two of them were alone.

Bob blushed and took a sip of the wine that Anna wished was better than it was. "Thanks. Uh, it was a new recipe. I've never made it before tonight."

Suzanne took a bite and said, "Robert is an excellent cook and a real gentleman. He always makes sure I have groceries, and he picks up a little something for me if he gets dinner on his way home from work."

As Bob's cheeks grew redder, Anna's heart beat faster. "A real gentleman," she echoed, knowing he'd take care of anyone who needed something.

"Yes," Suzanne said. "You don't see many of them around. Never seen many myself."

Neither had Anna, and after she blew her life to bits, she'd probably never see one again. She listened to Bob and Suzanne talk about their favorite game shows, and she cleaned her plate before either of them had finished. All of the toast and sad sandwiches she'd been eating weren't really cutting it, and she knew that. She also didn't want to get another piece of chicken and seem like a mooch.

"Can I get you more?" Bob asked as he stood on the opposite side of the table in his worn jeans and snug white shirt. "There's plenty left."

Anna shook her head, but he reached for her plate anyway. While he was in the kitchen, Suzanne quickly finished eating and downed the rest of her wine. Softly, just for Anna to hear, she said, "He is a very nice man. I hope I see you around here in a less friendly capacity." Then she called out, "Robert? I need to go. I hear Sylvester outside bugging for food. Thanks for dinner, and enjoy your evening."

"Night, Suzanne," he replied, and the older woman bustled off without another word, leaving Anna alone with Bob when he returned with two plates refilled with food. "She's a character."

Anna laughed, but she could tell Bob was hesitant to say too much now. Probably because she'd dashed the mood in the first place. "I'm sorry I suggested she join us," she told him sincerely, shaking her head. "All week long, I'd been looking forward to talking about books with you." 

As she poked at her chicken, afraid of what he was going to say, he said, "Once you finish eating, I could show you my books. I don't have as many as you do, but maybe there's something you'd like to borrow in the mix. And then I'll drive you home."

"I can get an Uber," she insisted, taking another bite of the perfectly cooked dinner. 

"And I can just as easily drive you."

He was a gentleman. She wasn't going to leave here in an Uber no matter what she said. "Alright."

----------------------------

"You have books in every room!" Anna exclaimed as she walked around his house nibbling on a cookie. The wine she brought was kind of terrible, and so were the grocery store cookies, but Bob didn't mind. She ate two full plates of the dinner he cooked, and now that Suzanne was gone, she seemed more herself.

"I have a system," he insisted as she sat down on his living room floor to inspect a stack of paperbacks.

"I'm not buying it," she said, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"Try me. The living room is poetry. The extra bedroom is mysteries. The dining room is true crime."

"What's in your bedroom?" she asked, flipping through a collection by Robert Frost.

Bob wanted to tell her that his bedroom was where he wrote his own poetry. And that they had begun to turn into a collection all about her. "Romance," he said.

She laughed softly, such a pretty sound. "I'm assuming you don't have any Vonnegut? No soul massacring, unhappy endings?"

"None," he promised. "You won't find any of those around here."

She was skimming a page as she muttered, "Good. I've had enough of that anyway." Then she stood and carried the Frost poems to another small pile on his coffee table. She rooted around and pulled out a volume by Walt Whitman before asking, "Could I borrow these two?"

Bob was admiring how perfect she looked in his house when she met his eyes with her pretty brown ones. "Of course," he said, dropping down onto the couch as he finished his own cookie. "Anything you want."

She stood and carried the books over to her purse before sitting down a few feet away from him. "What I want is to help you organize your books for real. Have you ever heard of a bookshelf before?"

"Never," he replied innocently. "What's that?"

She laughed and scooted a little closer. "You know those big, wooden things that were holding all the books when we met at that store in North Park? Remember that day?"

He knew she was just joking around, but as he memorized the pattern of her freckles, he said, "I will never forget that day."

Once again, Anna initiated the kiss, and once again, Bob was helpless to pump the brakes. She leaned in close with her hand on his knee and brushed her lips against his. It was so sweet, he was almost able to ask her to stop. Even though it felt too good, he was nearly able to tell her he couldn't do this. But being tortured was worth it. That was the worst part.

He let her do what she wanted, and her soft hands found their way to his face, knocking his glasses askew on their way into his hair. He wanted to touch her, but he was afraid he'd lose himself in these kisses that meant so much more to him than they did to her. He counted to ten slowly in his mind, savoring every touch and taste, letting Anna settle against his thigh. Then he broke the kiss, leaving her hovering there, surprise on her face.

She pressed her lips together, and turned her face toward his front door. "I'll never forget that day either."

He nodded as her hands fell away from his hair and his face, and he whispered, "Grab the books you want to borrow, and I'll drive you home."

----------------------------

"He's a gentleman," Anna groaned in her bed on the floor of her tiny apartment the following morning. It was Saturday, and she didn't have much she needed to accomplish today which would leave her plenty of time to think about the drive home in Bob's truck and the way he walked her to her door. She didn't kiss him again, but he always seemed to be close enough that she could feel his body heat in the chilly night air. Even now, when she grabbed at some strands of her hair, she swore she could still smell his fresh scent there.

She needed to get out. She grabbed her phone and took the longest walk imaginable. Her legs were burning by the time she stopped in a corner store for something to eat for lunch, but the sandwich was almost as bad as the ones she had been making for herself. Nothing would be as good as what Bob cooked, and he served it up last night like it was no big deal at all.

As Anna started the long walk back to her apartment, she groaned while she blasted her music. She had invited his elderly neighbor to join them for dinner, and then she had kissed him again. She was so embarrassing. She'd never been like this when she was in New Jersey, never doing the most mortifying things over and over. 

She didn't go home for a long time. She walked through an enormous park and looked at a fountain while she daydreamed about all of her unfinished manuscripts. When that started to hurt too much, she watched the storm clouds that were rolling in from the coast and thought it might be nice to get soaking wet. Then a few fat raindrops started to hit her face as she realized that she wouldn't be able to replace her phone if it got destroyed. 

"Damn it," she muttered, starting to run through the park under the cover of the trees. The sky was quickly getting darker as she tried to stay under awnings and overhangs as much as possible until she reached her apartment building. Her clothing was soaked, but her phone was still in working order when she ran inside, dripping all over the welcome mat in the small entryway.

She desperately wanted to cry, but that wouldn't solve anything, so she took a long shower instead. She washed and braided her hair, and then she painted her nails. When she finally picked up her phone again, she had a new message from Bob.

Bob Floyd: Taking your advice and buying one of those bookshelves? Was that what they were called? Which one do you think is better?

He had attached two screenshots of nice looking shelves from Ikea that she'd never be able to afford at the moment. She smiled as she typed back to him while she heated up a can of soup for dinner.

Yes, they are called bookshelves. Are you sure you know how to use them? I like the navy blue one better.

The flavorless chicken noodle soup went well with Anna's mood as she sat on the floor and watched a show on her phone. Part of her wanted to know what her friends were up to, but she didn't want to have to tell them about last night. She knew Bob and Jess would be going out to play Dungeons & Dragons soon anyway, but she dropped her spoon in the bowl when Bob wrote back again.

Bob Floyd: I think I'll pick it up tomorrow and make it my rainy Sunday project. Feel like helping me build it?

"Oh, Anna. Don't."

-------------------------------

Bob pulled up to Anna's building on Sunday afternoon after stopping to pick up the shelf. It had been pouring rain since last night, and he had to wrap his new furniture box in a tarp to protect it in the bed of his truck. But this would be a great way to spend the afternoon. He could make two cups of tea, and she could help him organize his books. They didn't need to kiss anymore. He would see to it that they didn't. He could handle this whole thing without issue.

He left his truck idling at the curb, and Anna came running outside like she'd been waiting for him. He grabbed his umbrella and met her halfway, shouting, "I was going to walk up and get you!" over the sound of the rain. She joined him under the umbrella, her denim jacket pretty wet as she shrugged.

"The rain's okay. It reminds me of New Jersey."

Once he opened the door and helped her scramble in, he ran around to the other side of the truck. He was barely able to find a dry spot on his shirt so he could wipe off his glasses, and when he yanked the hem up, he could feel Anna's eyes on his body. There was no sense in feeling self conscious about the way he looked now, because nothing else was going to happen. Last night had to be the end of that.

"You ready?" he asked, cranking the key in the ignition when she nodded. His wipers were going full speed as he drove her back to his house for the second visit in one weekend. "Thanks for helping with this. I kind of realized that having everything on one big shelf makes more sense. Especially if I keep borrowing books from you."

Her laugh was soft as she said, "If you don't borrow my books, then nobody will."

"Same goes for mine," he replied easily as he headed toward the beach. "But don't you dare dog ear my pages."

Now she laughed louder. "I read most of Whitman last night before I fell asleep, and there's nary a bent page in sight."

"That's what I like to hear." When he pulled up in front of his house, he handed her the umbrella and his keys. "Go ahead and let yourself in, and I'll unload the box."

She just gaped at him in response and asked, "Don't you need help carrying it?"

"Nah," he replied, popping his door open, "I can get it."

Bob struggled a little bit with the tarp before sliding the massive box closer to the edge of the truck tailgate. Every movement was made slower by the pounding rain in his face, but he managed to tip it into his arms. It was heavy, but not too bad, and his grip on the wet cardboard was good enough for him to get it inside the house. Anna was standing on the porch, holding open his screen door with the umbrella folded up at her feet, and he accidentally brushed against her with his arm as he maneuvered himself through the door.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," she said, her voice a little breathy as she let the screen door close and helped him prop the box against the wall. "This is massive."

"I guess now I can buy more books," he said with his hands on his hips while he dripped all over the place. "I'm going to get changed quickly, and then we can build the shelf and organize it, and then I'll make dinner."

Her eyes lit up. "You'll make dinner again?"

"Yeah. I was going to see if I can attempt a grilled cheese without burning it. I'll be right back." And then he headed upstairs to his bedroom where he had clean undershirts, some sweatpants and all of his favorite books.

---------------------------

Anna was halfway through unboxing and organizing the shelf pieces on the floor when Bob walked back downstairs. She'd removed her denim jacket, and her leggings and tank top were mostly dry, and she'd settled on the floor with the instruction book. "It looks like we'll need a screwdriver or a drill...." 

Her sentence tapered off when she looked up at Bob just casually standing there in one of his white shirts and a pair of gray sweatpants and neatly combed, damp hair. The ability to speak escaped her.

"I can grab my toolbox," he told her, adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants before disappearing toward the kitchen. She needed to lie down. She stretched out on the floor and stared at the ceiling as rain pelted the window next to her. 

"Oh my god," she whispered before biting down on her lip. She wanted him. She liked every damn thing about him, and then he had to look and smell and sound so good on top of it all. The Walt Whitman poems weren't the only thing she had read last night. Sky Writing's words from her favorite poems were also in her mind, and she couldn't shake them. Anna had just rolled into her side, staring at the instructions without actually seeing them, when he walked back in. 

"Are you okay?"

"Great," she said, voice raspy. She was in fact not great. She was the opposite of great. When Bob handed her the toolbox and said he was going to make two mugs of tea, she took the time to pull herself together. Sweaty palms glided along her leggings, and she read the instructions through. It seemed simple enough, and she had the hardware in order by the time Bob returned with two steaming mugs.

"Thanks," she whispered as he settled onto the floor next to her. She knew this was how good things would be if she could date Bob. Hot tea and homemade meals and someone around who loved books. "You're really sweet."

He didn't say anything as he sipped his tea, so Anna did the same. It was raining so hard, she couldn't tell if what she heard was thunder or not, but inside Bob's house, everything was warm and cozy. "Let's get started," he finally said, leaning in front of her to set his mug on the windowsill.

They spoke quietly, mostly about the shelf, while she handed him hardware and tools. Anna found herself distracted as she watched his hair dry and lighten in color as they worked together. Every bump of his muscular arm against hers felt intentional, but she couldn't tell for sure, and she was too afraid to ruin this friendship beyond repair. Especially after what her friends had told her at lunch on Friday.

"I need the screwdriver," he said, bumping her gently with his elbow as he held two perpendicular pieces of wood in place. 

"I can get it," she replied, finally refocused on the task before her. "I'll screw it in." She tried to reach in front of him, but he was too tall. When he moved his arms a little further apart, she popped up between them so she was standing between his body and the shelf. "I'll only take a second."

She could feel Bob's warm breath against her ear, and all he could think was that she would fit perfectly in his arms if he decided to just drop what he was holding and wrap them around her instead. "Take your time," he murmured, because of course his arms wouldn't get tired in this position. She fumbled the screw. His body was immaculate, and it was all she could think about as he exhaled and tickled her hair.

"I'm trying," she whispered, fumbling the screw again. Finally she had it in place, and Bob released the shelf, but he didn't move away from her.

"Think you can screw the last two in as well? Then we'll be done."

She nodded and decided to go slower, savor this tiny bit of intimacy and pretend he was hers. Then it was done.

"It looks good."

She barely had to turn to look at him over her shoulder. "It's a nice shelf. How do you want to arrange your books?"

He was still standing close as he said, "Poetry on the top? Since it's my favorite?"

"Yeah," she told him with a laugh. "Banish it to the top where nobody but you can reach it."

He cocked his head and leaned in closer. "Are you insulting the poetry or commenting on my height?"

"A bit of both," she replied right away. The living was darker now from the storm and from the time of day, but she could see his smile perfectly. 

"Come on, Anna. We both know you love the poetry. You borrowed two volumes the other day."

She only hummed in response before ducking away from him and reaching for a stack of his books. She handed them to him one at a time, commenting on them like she was giving each a bad review. "Oh, this one is too flowery. Too many words and no substance." She handed him another after he shelved the first one. "This author put all their best works at the beginning of the collection. The second half is terrible."

Bob chuckled as she picked up a book that she knew was a favorite of his. "Hey, you better watch what you say about that one."

She waved it in the air, unable to reach the top shelf, and he snatched it out of her hand. "I'm going to be brutally honest," she said softly, and Bob's hand rested on her back almost like a warning. "I loved it."

He smiled and let his fingers trail along her back as he nodded toward the stairs. "Want to help me tackle the mystery books in the extra bedroom?"

"Sure," she told him, leading the way to the steps. "But first, you have to tell me why you like poetry so much."

"What's not to like?" he replied as she started up. "All of the emotions are there. You're allowed to write about any combination of emotions that you're feeling at any given time. And I think that's pretty cool."

Anna's steps slowed a little as she considered his words. "Write?" she asked, turning to look back at him as he made his way up behind her. "Did you say write?"

"Uh. I did. Yeah."

Truly, she loved reading poetry, but she didn't have much of a knack for writing it. She didn't even think she was good enough for PoetsAmongUs. "What's something you've written?"

Bob laughed, and Anna stumbled on the top step as he said, "Just some amateur gibberish like, 'Devotion woven into every breath I take. Love that knows no boundaries, no end.' Nothing amazing."

She gripped the banister to keep herself upright, and then she spun and sat down hard on the top step. Suddenly she felt like she couldn't breathe. She knew those words intimately. She knew the whole fucking poem by heart. She knew everything else he had written as well, because she'd been reading his poetry for years.

"Bob," she croaked, and he rushed toward her, hands gentle on her ankle and leg.

"Are you okay? Did you twist it?"

"Bob," she gasped, reaching for the front of his undershirt and pulling him closer so he was focused on her face. "You're Sky Writing."

--------------------------

BOB IS SKY WRITING, ANNA. What the hell are you going to do now, babe? Please, make good choices. Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

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[neil-gaiman]

hi dad,

ok i know ur not -really- my dad lmao just let me cope. i lost mine, so you're stuck with that title now. anyway. i just felt like telling you how great things seem to be going for me rn (fuck i hope i don't curse it). i've been a fan for a long ass time, but i got into the GO fandom only last year, and in just a few months i feel like i've gotten so much better, both mental health wise and creatively. i'm a neat little bundle of depression, anxiety, autiADHD, BPD, and cPTSD. isn't that lovely haha. but hey, i'm also a writer. a poet. an artist. and a helluva burned out musician. BUT. ever since i've been hanging out here, i've been writing SO much more, i've been doing fanfics, and so many cool poems, and improving my writing skills so much. i started drawing again after like 2 years of not touching a goddamn pencil, and i just bought some paint and a canvas bc i wanna get back into painting again like i used to when i was younger. and also through reading other GO fics, i've felt inspired to play piano again, which was a great deal to me a few years back. and it's awesome to feel that spark again.

Good Omens has meant a lot to me since i first read it around 2015. but now more than ever because there's a whole community i can share stuff about it with and it feels great. i recently lost a close group of friends, one of my best friends to suicide, and well. my irl dad. and i've been feeling hella lonely for a long time. but i feel like i've been gaining that sense of community again through good omens. and i can't tell you enough how much it means to me. so, idk. i guess i wanted to say thanks for that. and also for being so supportive of trans/queer people. it means the world to me. so. thanks dad. ily

I'm just glad I'm helping.

[kayewrite]

Accidentally in Love

Bangchan x reader!!! chan x reader!! word count: 10.1k

genre: fluff and a little bit of angst. strangers to lovers!!

Summary: You were so careless. You always caught accidents!-- but then you met chan-- accidentally, was is still because of your carelessness? then.. you should do it again.

an: i know today was our midterms week but then why i cannot help but to post TT. anyways. please read it <3

What’s an accident?

Well, an accident is when you’re crossing the street, minding your own business, and suddenly a biker flips over because you may have accidentally stepped into the bike lane without noticing. “Sorry!” you call out, but honestly, how do you apologize for something so awkward?

Or maybe an accident is when you try to send a selfie to your best friend to show off your new hair, but you mistype the number and end up sending it to your mom’s boss. Now they have a picture of your duck face saved on their phone, and your mom will never let you live it down.

Oh, and don’t forget that one time you were playing catch, and somehow the ball decided to fly out of your hand in the completely wrong direction and smack someone in the face. “Oops!” isn’t going to make that less embarrassing.

These were all accidents, but honestly, you’ve started to notice a pattern here: you’re a little careless. Scratch that—you’re very careless. So careless, in fact, that even the simplest things seem to go wrong.

And now, thanks to all these accidental mess-ups, you’ve become so self-conscious that you’re a little too shy to even attempt anything without worrying you’ll mess it up.

“Ms. Kim, I swear it was an accident!” you practically begged, standing in front of your English teacher with wide, apologetic eyes. You had no assignment to present because, well… your homework somehow ended up floating in the school fountain. It had looked so promising this morning. Until it went for a swim.

Ms. Kim raised an eyebrow, but after a long sigh, she gave you a sympathetic look. “Alright, I’ll forgive you this time. But try to be more careful.”

“Yes, Ms. Kim! I promise! Thank you, and I’m so sorry again!” You rushed back to your seat, hoping to avoid further embarrassment, but of course, your best friend Chae was waiting with a grin that told you she’d witnessed the entire thing.

“I’m never going to let you live this down, you know,” she teased, leaning over with a wicked smirk.

You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Haha, very funny.”

Chae laughed. “You know, you could’ve just copied my assignment if you’d told me earlier.”

You let out a huff. “It was supposed to be an original poem, Chae. I’m reminding you for the hundredth time!”

“Oh, right.” She waved it off with a laugh, clearly enjoying your misfortune.

The class finally ended, and you and Chae headed to the cafeteria, where the usual chaos of students trying to grab food filled the air. Trays clattered, voices overlapped, and the smell of fried food lingered as you navigated through the bustling crowd. You had your tray of food in hand, carefully balancing it as if it were the most delicate thing in the world.

“Please, not today,” you whispered to yourself, praying that for once, nothing would go wrong.

But of course, in classic "you" fashion, the universe wasn’t going to let you off that easily.

Just as you turned a corner, completely zoned out, you collided with someone walking in the opposite direction. BAM. The impact sent your tray flying. You could only watch in horror as your drink splashed all over the guy’s shirt. Food scattered everywhere, some of it landing on his shoes.

“Oh my gosh!” you shrieked, nearly dropping everything else in your hands. Napkins, where are the napkins? You grabbed a bunch from your tray, your hands trembling as you tried to wipe the stain off his uniform. “I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to—I swear I wasn’t looking! Oh no, look what I did…”

The guy looked down at his soaked shirt, momentarily surprised. His hair had a few strands out of place, but despite the mess, his face softened. He didn’t seem angry at all, which only made you feel worse.

“It’s okay,” he said gently, offering you a small, reassuring smile. His voice was calm, like he was trying to stop a nervous kitten from freaking out. “Really. It was just an accident.”

But you were beyond saving at this point. Your heart was hammering, and your hands wouldn’t stop shaking as you dabbed at his shirt, which now looked worse with the blotchy wet patches.

“No, no! This is my fault. I’m so sorry! I’ll fix it, I promise. I’ll wash it for you! Let me make it right!” Your voice came out in a frantic rush as you looked up at him, your eyes wide and pleading.

The guy chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You don’t have to do that. I have an extra shirt in my locker.”

“But it’s my fault!” you insisted, still dabbing uselessly at his uniform. Your eyes welled up with frustration—how could you be so careless? Again?! This was just like all the other times where accidents seemed to follow you, and this time it wasn’t just a ruined poem or a floating homework assignment. You had ruined someone’s day.

He noticed your teary eyes and sighed, his smile turning a little softer. “Look, I promise, it’s fine. I can handle a little spill.”

But your guilt wouldn’t let you accept that. “No! I—I can’t let it go like this. You don’t understand! I’ll feel terrible all day.” Without waiting for him to protest further, you grabbed his arm and gently tugged him in the direction of the nearest comfort room. “Please, let me fix this.”

His eyes widened in surprise at how determined you were. “Wait, what? Where are we going?”

“To fix your shirt!” you declared, leading him away as if it was a life-or-death mission. You handed him your jacket to cover the stain, holding it up like a shield in front of him. “You can’t walk around like this! It’s—ugh, I feel so bad. What’s your locker number?”

He laughed at how serious you were. “Arts department. But really, this is too much.”

Your head whipped around to look at him. “Arts department? No way! Mine too!” Your eyes widened in realization.

How had you never noticed him before? How could someone like him, with that gentle smile and calm voice, be so… handsome? You couldn’t stop staring at him, and suddenly, you felt even more flustered.

When you reached his locker, he pulled out a clean shirt. “See? I’m all set now. You can go back and eat,” he said, trying to brush it off, but you were having none of it.

“Absolutely not!” you said, crossing your arms in defiance. “I’m not leaving until I make sure everything is fixed.”

He let out another laugh, shaking his head at your stubbornness. “You’re really not going to let this go, huh?”

“Nope,” you replied firmly, standing your ground. He seemed amused by your persistence, but also a little impressed.

As you walked toward the comfort room, he glanced at you. “You know you left your food behind, right?”

“It’s fine,” you muttered, though your stomach betrayed you by grumbling at that exact moment. You cringed, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

He chuckled, his voice light and teasing. “Sounds like your stomach disagrees.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little despite your guilt. His laughter was contagious, and even though you were still panicking inside, something about his calmness was starting to settle your nerves.

By the time you reached the comfort room, you had relaxed enough to have a normal conversation. “Why are you so calm about this?” you asked as he went inside to change. “If someone did this to me, I’d be freaking out.”

“I’ve had worse accidents happen,” he called from inside, his voice echoing slightly. “This is nothing.”

You paced outside, tapping your foot nervously. Worse accidents? What could possibly be worse than having your entire lunch dumped on you? You shook your head, trying to calm yourself down.

When he finally came out, you froze. Time seemed to slow down as he ran a hand through his wet hair, his clean shirt clinging to his frame. The droplets of water sliding down his neck caught the light, making him look… well, really good. Your heart skipped a beat, and before you knew it, it was racing like it was trying to tell you something you weren’t quite ready to hear.

“See? All fixed,” he said, flashing that same comforting smile.

You nodded, but your thoughts were far from calm. Why is my heart doing this? It was as if everything about this moment was trying to make you notice something you’d never felt before. Something fluttery and confusing, but undeniably there.

You got quiet for a moment, staring up at him, completely lost in thought. His wet hair, the way his shirt clung to him, that easy smile—it was like everything else around you blurred, and for just a second, you forgot where you were.

“Hello? Earth to you?” he teased, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze. “Oh! Uh, right, yes. It’s done,” you mumbled awkwardly, stepping back and fumbling with the sleeves of your jacket. Your face felt like it was on fire, and you wished you could disappear right then and there.

He laughed, a soft, easy sound that made your heart skip a beat again. “You sure? You look a little lost.”

“No, no! I’m totally fine!” you said, waving your hands in front of you. “I can go now.”

Before you could make your great escape, he stepped closer, extending his hand toward you with that same amused smile.

“I’m Chan, by the way,” he said, his hand hanging in the air between you two.

For a moment, you just stared at his outstretched hand, your brain working overtime to process what was happening. Chan. His name is Chan. You reached out slowly, feeling the warmth of his hand as your fingers met his.

Your voice barely came out, still a little shaken from the chaos of the last few minutes. “I—I’m…”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently.

“I’m… just really sorry again,” you blurted out, completely missing the introduction moment, but he only laughed more, shaking your hand.

“Nice to meet you, really sorry,” he joked, his smile growing wider.

You felt your cheeks heat up even more. “No, no! I mean, I’m—” You cleared your throat, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m y/n.”

His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, y/n , it’s nice to meet you too. Even under… interesting circumstances.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, the tension starting to lift. “Yeah… sorry about the whole… you know.”

He waved it off like it was nothing. “Trust me, this is one of the more entertaining things that’s happened to me this week.”

You smiled, feeling a little more at ease. He was so easygoing, so calm, and it made the situation feel less like a disaster and more like a… funny mishap. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling the weight of your guilt finally easing up.

But as you looked at him again, standing there, smiling at you like this was the most natural thing in the world, that flutter in your chest returned. Why am I still nervous?

“Hey,” Chan said, breaking your train of thought. “If it makes you feel better, I’m glad we bumped into each other.” He winked playfully, and before you could respond, he added, “I mean, now I know there’s someone who cares enough to make sure my shirt’s spotless.”

You bit your lip, trying not to smile too widely. “Yeah, well… I couldn’t just leave you like that.”

Chan grinned, giving you a quick nod. “I appreciate it. Anyway, I’ll see you around, y/n.”

And just like that, he turned to leave, but something inside you wanted to stop him. You stood there for a moment, watching as he walked away, your mind still reeling from everything that had just happened.

What just happened? You thought as you absently touched your hand where his had been moments ago.

Days passed, and you went back to your usual routine as the good student you were—well, the good student who occasionally made accidents. You submitted your assignments on time, participated in class, and did everything as you should. But no matter how busy you were, there was always a lingering thought in the back of your mind. A name that kept coming back to you: Chan.

After that incident in the cafeteria, you hadn’t seen him again. It was as if he’d vanished into thin air, leaving you with nothing but the memory of his laugh and that smile. You weren’t sure why you kept thinking about him. It wasn’t like anything major had happened, right? Just an accident. And yet…

“Your drawing is really nice,” Jeongin’s voice snapped you back to reality. He leaned over, studying your work on the easel with an approving nod.

You blinked, looking at your painting. It was your class in the arts department, and you’d been lost in thought, working quietly. But now that you looked at what you’d painted, your eyes widened.

It was a man. A man with soft features, standing against a background of delicate flowers. The detail in his face, the way his eyes seemed to hold a quiet kindness… it hit you like a ton of bricks. Chan. You painted Chan.

“What—” you muttered, staring in disbelief. “Did I just…?”

You turned to Jeongin, who was giving you a confused look. “What’s wrong? Did you paint that by accident or something?” he teased, not realizing how spot on he was.

Your face flushed. “I—uh—no, it’s just…”

“Come on, it looks really good,” Jeongin said with a grin. “You should be proud of it.”

You laughed nervously. How did I not realize I was painting him? You thought, staring at the canvas. The flowers around him gave the whole thing an almost dreamlike quality, and the expression on his face was so familiar it made your stomach flip. What is wrong with me?

Before you could process it, the teacher walked around the room, acknowledging everyone’s work. “Alright, class, it’s time for everyone to explain their paintings,” she announced, clapping her hands to gather everyone’s attention.

Oh no. You glanced at your painting again, heart racing. How were you going to explain this?

As each student took their turn, you grew more and more anxious. And when it was finally your turn, you stood in front of the class, staring at the painting as if it might offer you some kind of excuse for what you’d done.

“So,” the teacher prompted, “tell us about your work.”

You swallowed hard, gripping your hands together. “Uh, well… this is a… um…” You stuttered, completely lost for words. What do I say?!

Jeongin, sitting in the back, raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your nervousness.

“I—uh, I painted a man,” you started lamely, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. “With, um… flowers.” Great. Very insightful.

The class waited, but you had no idea how to continue. “The flowers are, um… a representation of…” Oh no, why did I paint flowers? You stared at them, desperately trying to come up with something meaningful to say.

“…of how fragile and… fleeting moments can be?” you mumbled, hoping it sounded deep. You heard a few murmurs of approval from your classmates, and you exhaled in relief. Okay, not bad so far.

“And the man?” the teacher asked, her head tilted as she studied your work.

You froze. The man. Oh no.

“I, uh, I didn’t really plan on… painting him. He just… kind of happened?” You winced at your own explanation. The teacher raised an eyebrow, but thankfully, she didn’t press further.

“Well,” she said after a pause, “it’s beautifully done. Accidental or not, you’ve captured a lot of emotion here.”

You nodded stiffly, trying to suppress the rising panic inside you. Emotion? I didn’t even realize I was painting Chan!

As you sat back down, Jeongin leaned over with a smirk. “So… did the flowers represent how ‘fleeting’ your accidental crush is?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I don’t have a crush!”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” he said with a knowing grin. “You keep telling yourself that.”

One day, as you were walking down the hallway, your arms full of books and your mind racing, you couldn’t stop mumbling to yourself. The upcoming oral examination was consuming your thoughts, and you found yourself counting the names of famous artists on your fingers, trying to memorize them.

“Okay, Picasso… Monet… Van Gogh… oh, and Da Vinci…” you muttered, completely focused on your mental checklist.

Just as you rounded a corner, you collided with someone. Your books flew out of your hands, scattering across the floor with a loud thud. “Oh no! I’m so sorry!” you blurted out, dropping to your knees to gather your belongings.

“Hey, it’s fine!” a familiar voice replied. You glanced up, and your heart skipped a beat. It was Chan.

“We meet again,” he said, a playful smile lighting up his face as he helped you collect your scattered books.

“Wow, what are the odds?” you replied, still a bit in shock. “It seems we have a knack for bumping into each other… literally.” You couldn’t help but laugh, a bit embarrassed by the situation.

He chuckled, his laughter warm and inviting. “Yeah, at this rate, we might as well call it fate,” he joked, handing you the last of your books.

You stood up, brushing off your pants and trying to regain your composure. “This time, I was so focused on artists that I completely forgot to look where I was going,” you admitted, a sheepish grin on your face. “What about you? Are you just wandering the hallways, waiting for your next accidental encounter?”

Chan raised an eyebrow, pretending to think. “Maybe I’m just here to collect the most interesting stories,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes. “And you, my friend, seem to be a goldmine.”

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, a playful banter sparking between you. “Well, if that’s the case, I should probably start charging you for my accidental stories,” you shot back, enjoying the lightness of the moment.

“I’m all for it,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning slightly against the wall, making himself comfortable. “So, what else do you have planned for today, besides running into me?”

You hesitated, your nerves creeping back as you remembered your oral exam. “Just… trying to survive this exam,” you admitted, biting your lip. “I have to present on famous artists, and I keep mixing up their names.”

Chan’s expression softened, and he nodded in understanding. “You’ll be great, I’m sure. If you want, I can help you practice later. I mean, I have some free time in the arts department.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Did he just offer to help me? “Really? That would be amazing! I could definitely use some backup,” you replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Perfect! Just let me know when you’re ready,” he said, flashing that signature smile that made your heart race. “And try not to bump into anyone else on your way to the exam, okay?”

You laughed again, feeling lighter than you had all day. “No promises! I might have a talent for accidents.”

With a final wave, he turned to leave, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter was different—something more than just another accident. Your thoughts raced as you watched him walk away, the hallway buzzing with energy. You had a lot to prepare for, but suddenly, the day felt a little brighter.

As the days passed, you found yourself wishing for those unexpected encounters with Chan every time you walked through the hallways. Maybe if I just keep my eyes peeled… But it seemed like the universe had a sense of humor; you only ever bumped into him when you least expected it—just like the last time.

Today, you were on a mission. You needed a specific art book for your upcoming project, and, of course, it was stored on the highest shelf in the library. Determined to get your hands on it, you made your way to the stairs, your heart racing with the hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d see him again.

You climbed the stairs, reaching for the book that was tantalizingly out of reach. Just as you stretched your arm up, your foot slipped slightly on the step, and in a split second, you stumbled backward, teetering precariously.

“Whoa!” a familiar voice called out, and before you could process it, Chan was right there, steadying you with a firm grip on your arm. “Careful there! Looks like you’re trying to give gravity a run for its money.”

You blinked in surprise, your heart pounding—not just from the near mishap but from his unexpected presence. “Chan! I didn’t see you there!” you exclaimed, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Clearly,” he replied, his lips curving into that teasing smile that always made your heart skip. “What’s the goal here? Trying to become a librarian superhero?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I was just trying to get this book.” You gestured to the high shelf, and he raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Do you need a hand?” he offered, glancing up at the shelf. “I’m pretty sure I can reach that without turning it into a circus act.”

You nodded, grateful for his help. “That would be amazing! I think I’d break the library record for most accidents in one visit if I tried again.”

As he stepped closer to the shelf, you couldn’t help but admire the way he moved with ease. He reached up, effortlessly grabbing the book and handing it to you. “Here you go, the hero of the day.”

You took the book from him, your fingers brushing against his for just a moment. “Thank you! You’ve saved my day.”

He shrugged, playfully nonchalant. “Just doing my part to help a fellow artist avoid disaster.” There was a pause, and you both shared a laugh, the air between you crackling with an easy connection.

“So, what’s this one about?” he asked, glancing at the cover.

“It’s about different art movements throughout history,” you said, opening the book to show him some of the illustrations. “I thought it would help with my project, but I got sidetracked with all the high shelves.”

“Maybe we should have a study session later,” he suggested, leaning casually against the shelf, making it seem like the most natural thing in the world. “I can help you brainstorm some ideas, and we can avoid any more… accidents.”

You felt a flutter of excitement in your chest. “That sounds great! I’d love the company.”

“Perfect! Just let me know when you’re free,” he replied, flashing that charming smile again. “And try not to climb any more shelves in the meantime.”

As you watched him leave, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Each accidental encounter felt like a step closer to something more, and you found yourself wishing that every day could be filled with these little moments.

You were placing your things in your locker one day when you noticed him—Chan—just a few lockers down. Your heart fluttered at the sight of him, and you couldn’t help but smile as you organized your books.

This time, it felt different. You weren’t colliding into him by chance; you were actually seeing him on purpose. “Hi!” you greeted, your voice brighter than you intended.

“Hello,” he replied, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

You hesitated for a moment, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. Finally, you took a breath and said, “Do you have time today? I’m going to brainstorm some ideas for my project at a café.”

He paused, considering it for a moment. “I have lots of time,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “What café are you thinking of?”

You felt a rush of excitement at his eagerness. “There’s that little one down the street, the one with the comfy chairs and those amazing pastries,” you said, your enthusiasm bubbling over. “I could really use a fresh perspective.”

“Sounds perfect. I’m in,” he said, closing his locker and leaning against it casually. “When do you want to head over?”

“Right now?” you suggested, feeling a little nervous but also thrilled at the idea of spending more time with him. “I have my books, and I could really use some caffeine to kickstart my creativity.”

“Let’s do it!” he replied, his enthusiasm contagious. He gestured for you to lead the way, and as you walked side by side down the hallway, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As you exited the school, the warm sunlight enveloped you, and the hustle and bustle of the outside world filled your ears. You glanced at Chan, who walked with an easy confidence. “So, what do you want to brainstorm about?” he asked, looking over at you with genuine interest.

“Well, I’m thinking about how to blend different art movements for my project. I want to create something that reflects both modern and classical styles,” you explained, your thoughts starting to flow.

“I love that idea!” he said, nodding enthusiastically. “You could play with color palettes and textures from different eras. That could really bring your piece to life.”

As you talked, you found yourself more at ease with each passing moment. The café came into view, and you felt a rush of anticipation. “Here it is! I hope they still have those pastries,” you said, glancing up at the sign.

“Oh, they do. Trust me, I’ve been here enough to know their secret menu,” he said with a mischievous grin. “You’re in for a treat.”

Once inside, you ordered your drinks and pastries, and found a cozy table by the window. The atmosphere buzzed with the sound of chatter and clinking cups, adding to the warmth of the moment.

You both settled in, and as you opened your notebook to jot down ideas, you felt a thrill of inspiration rush through you. “Okay, let’s brainstorm!” you said, eager to dive into your project with Chan by your side.

His presence made everything feel easier, and as you exchanged ideas, laughter, and stories, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the start of something wonderful—something that wasn’t just an accident.

Ever since that day, meeting Chan had become the most exciting part of your routine. Each moment spent with him made your heart race, and the days felt brighter.

“Thank you so much! My project received a nice grade,” you said, your eyes sparkling with gratitude.

“You deserve it,” Chan replied, his smile warm and encouraging. “Your hard work really paid off.”

Feeling a rush of happiness, you mustered the courage to ask, “Are you free today? I want to treat you to something nice to say thanks.”

Chan tilted his head, considering. “I have something to do, but who would let a free meal pass by?” He chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Perfect! Let’s go to that new restaurant that just opened downtown. I’ve heard they have amazing food,” you suggested, unable to contain your excitement.

“Lead the way!” he said, his enthusiasm matching yours.

As you made your way to the restaurant, the atmosphere buzzed with energy. The sun was shining brightly, and the warm breeze wrapped around you, making everything feel perfect.

Once you arrived, the tantalizing aroma of delicious dishes greeted you at the door. You both stepped inside, and after being seated at a cozy table, you glanced over the menu.

“Everything looks so good! I don’t even know where to start,” you said, biting your lip in indecision.

“Let’s order a bunch of things to share. It’s more fun that way!” Chan suggested, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

You both decided on a variety of dishes, and as you waited for the food, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You talked about everything—your favorite movies, music, and even your childhood dreams.

“I wanted to be an astronaut for the longest time,” Chan admitted with a laugh. “But then I realized I get dizzy just from spinning around in circles. So much for that dream!”

You laughed, picturing him in a space suit, and then replied, “At least you’re realistic! I wanted to be an artist, but then I discovered I’m more of a ‘creative disaster’ than anything else.”

“Hey, you’re an amazing artist! Look at that project of yours,” he said, gesturing to your notebook resting on the table. “It shows how creative you really are.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his compliment. “Thanks, Chan. That means a lot coming from you.”

Just then, the server arrived with a feast of colorful dishes, and the two of you dove in, sharing bites and savoring each flavor. Laughter filled the air as you both shared stories and friendly banter, each moment deepening your connection.

“This is the best meal I’ve had in ages,” you said between bites, a satisfied grin on your face.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it! I have to admit, I was a little worried you wouldn’t want to hang out with me again after our first ‘accidental’ meeting,” Chan said, a teasing tone in his voice.

“Are you kidding? Those accidents turned out to be the best thing that’s happened to me!” you replied, your heart racing at the thought of how lucky you felt.

As you continued to eat, you realized that these moments with Chan were becoming something you looked forward to every day. The laughter, the food, and the warmth of his presence made you feel alive. And you couldn’t help but wonder where this unexpected journey with him might lead.

One day, as you were walking down the hallway, your heart raced at the thought of bumping into Chan again—not literally bumping, of course. You kept glancing around the corners, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, and your smile widened when you finally spotted him at the end of the hall.

He was really handsome, and the way he brushed his hair back only added to his charm. Without thinking, you picked up your pace, practically running to him.

“Hi!” you exclaimed, trying to catch your breath.

“Hey there!” Chan replied, his face lighting up at your enthusiasm.

“What are you up to?” you asked, trying to sound casual even though you were bursting with excitement at seeing him again.

“I’m working on a project for my photography class,” he explained, adjusting the camera strap slung over his shoulder. “Just trying to find some inspiration.”

“Do you need help?” you offered, eager to spend more time with him.

“Yeah, that would be awesome! Thank you!” he said, visibly relieved.

You both decided to head to the nearest park, where Chan could take pictures of the vibrant scenery. As you arrived, the sun peeked through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The air was fresh and filled with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves.

You watched as he captured shots of the flowers blooming, the trees swaying in the gentle breeze, and the ducks swimming lazily in the pond. Every now and then, you noticed his brows furrowing in concentration as he reviewed the images.

“Are you happy with those?” you asked, stepping closer to him.

“Not quite,” he admitted, letting out a sigh. “It just feels like something is missing.”

“Maybe try capturing something more candid,” you suggested, trying to help. “Like when someone is laughing or playing in the park. Those moments can tell a story.”

Chan looked at you with a spark of inspiration in his eyes. “That’s a great idea! Let’s wait for some people to come by and see what happens.”

As you both waited, you continued to chat and joke around, enjoying each other’s company. Finally, a group of children ran past, laughing and chasing each other. Chan’s camera clicked rapidly as he captured their joyful energy.

“See? That’s the kind of moment I was talking about!” you said, beaming at him.

“I see it now! Thank you for your help!” Chan said, his eyes shining with excitement. “You really have a good eye for this.”

You felt a warm rush of pride at his compliment, and as you watched him work, you couldn’t help but admire how passionate he was about photography.

After taking several more pictures, Chan turned to you, a grin spreading across his face. “Let’s get a picture of us together! It’ll be a fun memory.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” you said, feeling a mix of excitement and shyness.

“Come on! It’ll be great. Plus, I need to document our collaboration,” he insisted, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You relented, and he set the timer on his camera before rushing back to stand beside you. As the camera clicked, you both laughed, and you felt a warmth in your heart that made you forget your nerves.

“Perfect!” Chan said, reviewing the picture. “We look awesome together.”

You felt your cheeks flush at the compliment, and for a moment, everything around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the budding connection that was blossoming. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this day was just another beautiful accident that led you closer to Chan.

It was midterms day, and the library buzzed with the nervous energy of students cramming for their exams. You sat at a table piled high with notes, textbooks, and a half-empty coffee cup, trying to absorb as much information as possible.

Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you. You looked up to see Chan sliding into the chair next to yours, his backpack slung over one shoulder. “Hey, ready for this?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Not even close,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around all this material.”

“Need a study buddy?” he offered, pulling out his own notes. “I could use a break from memorizing everything too. We can help each other out!”

“Sure, that sounds great!” you replied, relieved to have his company.

As the two of you delved into your notes, discussing concepts and quizzing each other, the atmosphere shifted from one of stress to camaraderie. With every question Chan asked, your confidence grew, and soon you found yourself explaining things more clearly.

“Wow, you really know your stuff!” Chan remarked, his expression genuinely impressed.

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at the compliment. “Thanks! I guess all the late nights are finally paying off,” you said, trying to play it cool.

After a couple of hours of intense studying, you both took a break, stretching and grabbing a quick snack from the café. As you were chatting and laughing, a group of your friends passed by and stopped to gawk at the scene.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” one of your friends asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you two… studying together?”

“Yeah, just helping each other out,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your heart raced at their teasing tone.

Your friend nudged you playfully. “Helping each other out? Is that all?” They smirked knowingly.

“Uh, he’s just a friend,” you stammered, suddenly unsure of how to explain your connection to Chan. The truth was, he felt like more than just a friend, but you didn’t know how to articulate that.

“Sure, a friend,” your friend teased, winking at you. “It looks like there’s something more going on!”

Chan chuckled, clearly amused by the situation, and you felt a rush of embarrassment at the attention. “We really are just studying,” he assured them, his tone light and playful.

“Okay, okay,” your friend said, holding up their hands in mock surrender. “We’ll let you two get back to it. But don’t forget to let us know when you finally admit it!”

As they walked away, you couldn’t help but glance at Chan, who was still smiling at the exchange. “Sorry about that,” you said, feeling a mix of embarrassment and nervousness. “I didn’t mean to make it seem like… well, you know.”

Chan shook his head, still grinning. “Don’t worry about it. I mean, it is nice to spend time with you. We make a good team.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Yeah, we really do,” you agreed, a soft smile creeping onto your face.

As you settled back into your study session, the moment hung in the air between you—a promise of something more than just friendship, waiting to be explored.

The midterms had drained you completely. The lack of sleep and the stress from weeks of studying had finally taken their toll. You promised yourself that after the last exam, you would treat yourself to a good night’s sleep and a juicy steak—something to celebrate the end of your academic agony.

When the final exam wrapped up, a rush of exhilaration surged through you. You couldn’t help but throw your papers into the air, your laughter mingling with that of your friends. It was a celebration—freedom at last!

“Who’s ready to party?” one of your friends shouted, and the group erupted into cheers.

“I’m calling Chan!” you exclaimed, feeling a burst of happiness. You pulled out your phone, dialing his number, but after a few rings, it went to voicemail. You frowned, thinking he must be busy with his own post-exam plans. Shrugging it off, you put your phone away and joined your friends, who were already dancing to the music blasting from the speakers.

That night, you found yourself at the nearest bar, the energy around you vibrant and electric. You ordered a drink, savoring the coolness as it slid down your throat, and soon the dance floor called to you. You let loose, dancing and laughing, feeling all the stress melt away with each beat of the music.

After a few drinks, you felt invincible. You spun around, arms wide open, embracing the joy of the moment. That was when you noticed him.

Not too far away, standing at the bar with a drink in hand, was Chan. He looked relaxed in a casual outfit, chatting and laughing with a couple of friends. Your heart skipped a beat. It was the first time you’d seen him for first day of midterms, and somehow, he looked even more handsome in the dim light of the bar.

You felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. Should you approach him? The thought made your stomach flutter. But as you watched him, you noticed he hadn’t seen you yet.

Deciding to make your move, you grabbed your drink and wove your way through the crowd, the music thumping in your ears. When you finally reached him, he turned, and his eyes lit up with surprise.

“Hey! Fancy seeing you here!” Chan exclaimed, his smile wide and genuine.

“Hey! I just finished my exams, so I thought I’d celebrate,” you said, trying to keep your tone light despite the fluttering in your chest. “What about you?”

“Same here! I needed a break after all that studying,” he replied, leaning slightly closer, making it easier to hear each other over the music. “Looks like you’re having a good time.”

“I am! I thought I’d treat myself, you know?” You took a sip of your drink, feeling a bit more confident. “How about you? Are you enjoying your night?”

“Definitely! It’s nice to unwind,” he said, glancing around the bar. “You should come join us. We’re about to play some pool.”

You felt a surge of excitement at the invitation. “Sounds fun! Let’s go!”

As you walked toward the pool table together, the noise of the bar faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. Your heart raced at the thought of spending time with him, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this night might be the beginning of something special.

Chan led you to the pool table, where a group of his friends was gathered. The atmosphere was lively, laughter and playful banter filling the air.

“This is Han,” he said, pointing to a tall guy with a warm smile. “He’s the best pool player here—don’t let him fool you with that innocent face.”

Han grinned, nudging Chan playfully. “Yeah, right. You’re just scared I’ll beat you again!”

“And this,” Chan continued, gesturing to a guy who was sprawled over the table, “is Seungmin. Don’t mind him; he’s just being dramatic.”

Seungmin lifted his head slightly, a smirk on his face. “Hey! I’m just conserving my energy for my inevitable victory,” he quipped before flopping back down, causing everyone to chuckle.

“..over there is Yuni,” Chan said, nodding toward a girl with vibrant hair and an infectious smile who was chatting animatedly with another friend. However, as she caught sight of you standing next to Chan, her expression shifted slightly. There was something in her gaze, a hint of judgment that made you feel self-conscious, as if she was silently questioning why you were with him.

You smiled at the lively introductions, trying to shake off the unease. “It’s great to meet you all! Chan’s been telling me a bit about you,” you said, glancing at Chan, who was trying to look innocent.

“Only good things, right?” Chan interjected with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Of course!” you laughed, enjoying the banter, but you couldn’t shake off Yuni’s penetrating look.

“So, what’s the plan?” Han asked, leaning against the table. “Are we playing a round of pool, or is it too easy for you guys?”

Chan glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. “How about a little wager? Loser buys the next round of drinks.”

“Deal!” you replied, excitement bubbling up inside you, determined to prove yourself. “But I’m going to win.”

Seungmin raised his head just enough to give you a mock salute. “Good luck with that!”

As Chan set up the game, you could feel Yuni’s eyes on you, scrutinizing your every move. It made you slightly anxious, but you tried to focus on the game instead. The atmosphere felt more relaxed among Chan's friends, and it made you feel like you were part of something special. Chan’s presence was comforting, and you found yourself stealing glances at him, your heart racing every time your eyes met.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got!” Chan challenged, holding the cue stick with a confident grin. You couldn’t help but smile back, ready to take on the challenge, even if Yuni’s judgment lingered at the back of your mind.

The game began, and you focused intently on the table. Chan broke first, sending the balls scattering across the green felt. His movements were fluid and confident, and you admired the way he handled the cue stick.

“Nice shot!” Han cheered, clapping him on the back as the solid balls spread across the table. Chan beamed, clearly enjoying the attention.

“Your turn,” Chan said, stepping aside and motioning for you to take your shot. You felt a rush of excitement mixed with nerves as you approached the table, trying to shake off Yuni's scrutinizing gaze.

You lined up your shot, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. “Here goes nothing,” you mumbled to yourself. With a swift motion, you struck the cue ball, watching it collide with the colored balls. You sunk a solid, and a rush of exhilaration washed over you.

“Wow, not bad!” Chan said, genuine admiration in his voice.

“You’re going to have to do better than that!” you replied playfully, trying to channel the confidence you felt.

As the game continued, laughter and friendly banter filled the air. You found yourself lost in the moment, enjoying the thrill of competition and the company of Chan and his friends. You occasionally caught Yuni’s gaze again, but this time, you shrugged it off.

You and Chan worked well together, each of you strategizing and laughing through the ups and downs of the game. “I think we make a pretty good team,” Chan said, grinning at you after you executed a tricky shot.

“Team? I thought we were opponents!” you teased back, leaning on the table with a playful smile.

“Fine, but I’m going to crush you next round,” he shot back, feigning a fierce glare.

The game was intense, with each of you sinking balls and trying to outsmart the other. After a particularly close shot where you barely missed sinking the eight ball, you groaned dramatically, drawing laughter from the group.

“Come on, you can do better than that!” Seungmin teased, lifting his head for a moment to join in the laughter.

“Hey, I’m still getting used to the pressure of having such talented players around me!” you shot back, winking at him.

Eventually, the game came down to the last ball, and the tension in the air was palpable. You took a moment to breathe, steadying your hands as you lined up your shot.

“Just focus,” Chan whispered, stepping close enough that you could feel his warmth. “You got this.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of determination. As you took your shot, the cue ball sailed smoothly into the eight ball, sending it into the pocket with a satisfying clack. Cheers erupted from your friends, and you jumped up in excitement, unable to contain your joy.

“Did I just win?” you exclaimed, wide-eyed with disbelief.

“Looks like it!” Han said, clapping you on the back. “Great job!”

Yuni, however, crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, still watching you closely. You tried not to let her expression dampen your mood. “So, who’s buying the next round?” you asked, turning your attention back to the group, hoping to shift the atmosphere.

“Loser buys,” Chan declared, pretending to pout. “But I guess that means I owe you one!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you treat me later,” you said with a teasing grin.

As the group moved toward the karaoke area, you felt an electric energy between you and Chan. With each passing moment, you were more grateful for the accidental encounters that had brought you to this point. Who knew a series of mishaps would lead to a night full of laughter, friendship, and possibly something more?

And even if Yuni still looked at you like a puzzle she needed to solve, you were too busy enjoying the moment to let it bother you. After all, you were finally having fun, and it felt good.

As the night deepened, the lively chatter and laughter of the group created a warm atmosphere. You found a cozy seat at the edge of the karaoke stage, sipping on your drink and watching Chan as he jokingly sang off-key. Everything felt perfect until you noticed Yuni making her way toward you, her expression a mix of confidence and something more sinister.

Her confident stride and sharp smile cutting through the laughter and music. She leaned closer, her voice low and dripping with a condescending sweetness. “Hey there, just wanted to have a little chat.”

“Sure,” you said cautiously, bracing yourself for whatever she had to say.

“Listen,” she said, crossing her arms, “Chan is mine. You need to back off. He’s not interested in you.” Her tone had that classic mean girl edge, and your heart raced as you absorbed her words.

“No,” you replied firmly, trying to match her intensity. “I like Chan, and I think he likes me too. I’m not going to just walk away because you say so.”

Her laughter was sharp, almost mocking. “Oh, really? You think he’s into you? That’s adorable.” She leaned in, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Let me show you some proof.”

Before you could respond, Yuni stood up, her heels clicking against the floor as she strode confidently towards Chan. You felt your heart drop, your gut twisting in anticipation and dread. The entire bar seemed to fade into the background as you watched her approach him.

She whispered something in his ear, and for a moment, Chan turned to look at you, confusion crossing his features. Then, without any hesitation, Yuni leaned in and kissed him. The moment felt like a punch to the gut, and time seemed to freeze as you watched Chan’s reaction.

He didn’t push her away.

That was your sign. Your breath caught in your throat, a mixture of disbelief and disappointment washing over you. You stood up abruptly, the weight of the moment crashing down on you. You couldn’t bear to watch anymore.

Ignoring the sounds of laughter and music, you turned and made your way toward the exit, the laughter of your friends fading behind you. Each step felt heavier as the reality settled in. You thought you had something special with Chan, but seeing him with Yuni shattered that illusion in an instant.

You stepped out into the cool night air, taking a deep breath to calm the storm brewing inside you. You needed to collect your thoughts. This wasn’t the end, you reminded yourself. It was a moment, not a conclusion. You wouldn’t let Yuni or this situation define how you felt about Chan or yourself.

As you walked away from the bar, your resolve strengthened. You would figure this out—whatever it took.

You stumbled out of the bar, the cool night air hitting your flushed cheeks like a splash of reality. Once outside, you leaned against the cool brick wall, the laughter and music fading into the background as the tears you’d been holding back spilled over.

You cried silently, each sob echoing the turmoil inside you. You knew it; deep down, you had always known. All those moments—each little accident that had brought you to Chan—had turned out to be just that: accidents. The awkward encounters, the clumsy run-ins, the way you had been drawn together—it was all a series of mishaps that had somehow made you believe there was something more.

Meeting Chan had felt like fate at first, like a spark that ignited something inside you. But now, standing alone in the dark, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it had all been a fluke, a twist of the universe that had no real purpose.

“An accident is an accident,” you murmured through your tears, repeating the words like a mantra. Every encounter had been a result of your own clumsiness, your carelessness leading you into a whirlwind of emotions you weren’t prepared to handle.

You thought about how carefree you had felt with him, the way he made you laugh and the comfort of his presence. But now, that joy felt tainted, overshadowed by the image of him kissing Yuni, the girl who had made it clear she wanted him. It felt like a cruel joke, and you were the punchline.

As the tears flowed, you took deep breaths, trying to calm the storm inside. It was time to let go of the fantasy you had built around Chan, to accept that maybe what you felt wasn’t meant to be.

Wiping your eyes, you stood up straighter, determined not to let this moment define you. It hurt, but you wouldn’t let it break you. “You deserve better,” you whispered to yourself.

With one last deep breath, you turned away from the bar and started to walk. It was time to reclaim your night, even if it meant facing the reality of the situation head-on. No more accidents; you needed to be more careful, not just with your surroundings but with your heart.

As you walked home, you made a promise to yourself. You would move on, even if it took time. You would find a way to let go of the ‘what-ifs’ and embrace whatever came next, accidents or not.

Days turned into a blur, and despite Chan's constant messages lighting up your phone, you chose to ignore them. Why would he contact you after what happened? You found yourself lost in thought as you folded clothes, the fabric slipping through your fingers. A sudden craving for coffee hit you, breaking through your distracted haze.

With a determined sigh, you made your way to the coffee shop. As you approached, doubt crept in. What if you ran into Chan? You paused, took a deep breath, and reassured yourself, If it’s meant to happen, then let it be.

Stepping inside, you felt a wave of relief wash over you when you didn’t see him. You took your sweet time, savoring the aroma of freshly brewed coffee as you glanced at the menu, letting the moment distract you.

Just as you were about to leave, you caught sight of him standing at the entrance. He looked surprised to see you, his eyes widening slightly.

“Can we talk?” he asked, stepping closer.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding, your curiosity outweighing your apprehension. You found a small table in the corner, and he sat down across from you, his demeanor shifting to one of earnestness.

He glanced down, his brow furrowed in thought. “What do you want to drink? I can get you something.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m okay; I already have some.”

His gaze softened as he leaned in slightly, studying your face. “Why have you been ignoring my messages?”

You let out a soft sigh, your heart racing at the vulnerability in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was busy.”

He nodded, his expression filled with understanding. “But why did you leave the party without saying goodbye? I was looking for you.”

“I’m sorry,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just had to go home. That’s all.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Yuni… she tells me everything.”

You fell silent, unsure of how to respond.

“The truth is, after that party, I’m ignoring Yuni. I’m never talking to her again.”

“Why would you do that?” you asked, concern creeping into your tone. The thought of him standing up to her made your heart flutter.

“Because she hurt you,” he said, his voice steady yet filled with emotion.

You felt a pang in your chest. I’m not hurt because of her… I’m hurt because I was careless, you thought to yourself, grappling with your conflicting emotions.

“Look, I was drunk,” he continued, his eyes filled with regret. “I only realized she kissed me after I pushed her away... and then I saw you running.”

You could see the weight of his words pressing down on him. “You don’t need to explain,” you murmured, trying to keep your composure.

“I need to explain,” he insisted, leaning forward, his intensity palpable. “I don’t want you away from me.”

“Chan…” you called softly, feeling your heart race.

“You know,” he began, his voice dropping to a whisper, “after that accident of meeting you… my life changed.”

His confession hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt your breath hitch, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his words. Your heart pounded in your chest as you processed what he was saying. Could it be true?

Chan’s words lingered in the air, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. You could feel the weight of the moment, the vulnerability in his voice pulling at your heart.

"Meeting you..." he hesitated, his gaze falling to the table for a second before lifting back to you. "It felt like one of those accidents that just... changed everything. And at first, I thought it was just that—a coincidence, a bump in the hallway. But then... it wasn’t."

You stayed silent, your pulse quickening as he continued.

"I wasn’t expecting it. To feel this way. But… I think I’ve been falling for you. Accidentally in love, if you want to call it that."

His confession took your breath away, the rawness of it catching you off guard. You tried to respond, but the words got stuck in your throat. He smiled softly at your reaction, the kind of smile that carried relief but also nervousness, as if he wasn’t sure what you’d say next.

"I know everything between us started with these random moments," Chan continued, his voice low and sincere. "But those ‘accidents’ became the best part of my day. Seeing you in the hallway, at the coffee shop… it’s like you became my favorite surprise."

You swallowed hard, the emotions swirling in your chest almost too much to bear. "Chan... I..." you started, unsure of how to put your feelings into words. The truth was, you’d felt it too—that strange sense of anticipation every time you thought you might see him, the way your heart raced whenever your paths crossed.

His hand gently reached across the table, brushing against yours, and you felt warmth spread through you. "I don’t want to lose you," he said softly. "I don’t care about the circumstances. I just want to be with you, whether it's an accident or fate."

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. It wasn’t just an accident anymore. Maybe it never was. The two of you were brought together by chance, but now, it felt like something deeper.

You took a deep breath and met his gaze. "Maybe accidents aren’t so bad after all," you said with a shy smile.

His eyes lit up at your words, and a smile slowly formed on his face. "Yeah?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

"Yeah," you nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "I think I’ve been falling for you too, Chan."

He let out a soft laugh, a sound filled with both relief and joy. "I’m so glad you said that," he murmured, his hand closing around yours. "Because I really don’t want to go through another day pretending I don’t feel this way."

You squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. Maybe the best things really do happen by accident.

Chan’s hand, warm and steady, held yours like an anchor, and for the first time in days, the weight on your chest seemed to lift. What started as random, fleeting moments had turned into something real, something neither of you could deny any longer.

"Maybe," you said softly, meeting his eyes, "we were supposed to find each other like this—through all these accidents."

He smiled at that, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. "Then I guess I'm grateful for every one of them," he said, his voice tender. "Because they brought me to you."

The tension that had been hanging over you for so long melted away, replaced with a quiet sense of happiness. What you thought were accidents, moments of carelessness, were really the universe pushing you toward each other, piece by piece.

You realized that sometimes, the best things in life don’t come with planning or expectations. Sometimes, they come when you're not looking—an accidental meeting that turns into something much more. And now, sitting across from Chan, his hand in yours, you knew that this wasn’t just an accident anymore. It was the start of something real.

And just like that, the uncertainty faded away. You had no idea what the future held, but you didn’t need to know. Right here, right now, was enough.

Because in the end, maybe the best kind of love really is the one you stumble into, accidentally.

--

an: a heart, reblog, and comment is very much appreciated. thankyou

[repulsiveliquidation]

without you || Ona Batlle

warnings : angst w/ happy ending, i promise. mentions of illness and death. based on the poem above. enjoy :)

last night you were in my dreams

looked me in the eye

god

it felt so real

her side of the bed’s empty. there’s no note left for you in her pretty writing. her car is gone from its place next to yours in the driveway. her pillow smells so much like her, it’s almost like she’s still here. the tears. you hate the tears. they fall without your permission. they wet your pillow, “I’m sorry,” you whisper, the lump in your throat made it hard to swallow.

you roll over to her side of the bed, the cold sheets solidify your loneliness. Ona’s gone. she left this morning, bags seemingly packed for such a long time that there was a little dust bunny at the back of the closet from where she hid the duffle bags.

the sun shines into your room just a little, the window left open from the night before. you had shared a glass of wine there, laughing so loud that the old man who lived across from you yelled for you two to go to bed. his wife scolded him and apologized for his behavior, blowing you a kiss and a promise of fresh pastries she would send you the next morning.

you opened the front door and there they were, neatly packed in a little basket. they were Miguelitos, Ona’s favorite. tears filled your eyes again, picking up the pretty basket with an unsteady hand. the old lady calls from across the road and you force a smile, voice breaking when you yell a thank you in a terrible attempt at Spanish. she smiles and nods anyway, watching as you tread back into the house and she sees you wiping a tear away.

they’re still warm so you leave them on the kitchen uncovered. you call Jonatan and tell him you feel like, faking a sniffle that he doesn’t buy but he gives you the day off anyway. suspiciously, Ona calls him not three minutes later with the same excuse. normally you’d call and tell him you were both under the weather but separate calls raise flags in his mind.

you crawl back into bed and begin to sob, hot tears staining your cheeks and pillow. you pull her pillow close to your chest and try to calm yourself, knowing it was no use when all you wanted was your girlfriend to hold you close and tell you everything was going to be alright.

she had done this two times before. Ona was a perfectionist, a master of her craft. every pass, tackle, dribble, and kick had to be perfect. one loose ball that was her fault meant another hour on the pitch perfecting the pass till her toes hurt from kicking the ball. the first time you had to physically throw her over your shoulder and drag her home, having a strict conversation with Alexia as she cleaned up. you made her promise to take her health seriously or Alexia would wait for the green light from you to be benched until she bucked up.

the message got to her head for about six months until a badly timed tackle earned her a second yellow of the game and the send-off. she ran off the pitch in anger, lashing out at Vicky who was comforting her as she walked off. you were on the bench with a little ankle sprain and waddled after her with Alexia, Mapi, and Pina in tow. you were ready to give her an earful when you heard muffled sobbing in the changing room. you told the others you would handle it and they backed off, faces full of concern for their friend.

“Ona?” you called, walking into the room slowly. she wiped her tears away, trying to look like she wasn’t crying. she refused to raise her head, eyes fixed on her muddy cleats.

“Amor, it’s just me,” you comfort, sitting beside her and rubbing her back. she flinches but leans into your shoulder, crying into your pressed shirt. you rock her a little and let her cry it out, gripping your coat tight as she shook in your arms.

“shh, it was just badly timed princesa. it happens.”

“I’ve let the team down, they need me…” she cried harder, snot running down her face. you reach into your pocket and pull out some tissues, reminding yourself to ask the girls which one of them stuffed it into your pocket. you wipe her face and kiss her nose.

“the girls are fine, we’re five goals up with ten minutes to go. we’ve got this game in the bag.”

“but the next games…”

“should give you a chance to rest and regroup. you’ve been working yourself to the bone again.”

“I’ve been sloppy at training, I can’t afford to make mistakes!” she yelled standing up and storming into the showers.

you lean back and decide to give her some space to breathe, hearing the loud chattering of girls high off another win and a clean sheet. you smile and congratulate them, not wanting them to worry about their teammate. Ona comes out from the showers second to last, hair wet and cheek rosy from the hot water. you sit in her cubby patiently waiting and she kisses you.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she apologizes, fiddling with her fingers. you nod and smile at her, standing up gingerly since your legs have gone numb. she changes and you notice that she’s got one of your ratty t-shirts on and your training sweats. you shake your head and walk out the door, yelling that you’d have the car warmed up for in the front in five.

she scrambles into the car and relaxes into the seat, muscles visibly melting into the warm upholstery. you drive leisurely back home, the Barcelona sunset to your left. Ona snores in the passenger seat softly, not even waking up when the scent of the Chinese takeout you pick up fills the car.

she rouses when you park in front of your house, feeling the familiar cobblestone that you have to drive over just before bringing the car into park. she smacks her lips and feels your lips press a soft kiss on her cheek.

“We’re home, my love.”

she smiles and stretches her arms, climbing out of the car sleepily. you’ve brought all the bags into the house, already cleaning out her kit bag. she rummages through the bags of food and smiles when she smells her favorite. maybe taking a break wasn’t such a bad idea.

it was as if you were here again

deep down inside me feel

Ona locks herself in her room. the sheets feel foreign, itching her skin. you always had the softest sheets, catering to her sensitive skin. the bonus was that they always smelled like you and she made sure to take deep breaths when you changed the sheets every week.

the room smelled stale too. an expected circumstance since she was rarely over here anyway. your house was closer to the pitch and she already had half the closet to herself, why make the trip every time?

there was a knock on the door about twenty minutes after she got home. she knew it was Aitana with a billion questions but all she wanted was to be alone. really she wanted to be with you but she’d fucked that up. she didn’t even know why she ran, the pressure of performing was becoming too much and she didn’t want to be a burden. she couldn’t bear to see that look of disappointment she saw glimmer over your face when she got her first red card with Barça.

the banging on her bedroom door was what woke her up hours later. Aitana mentioned breakfast in the oven and coffee in the coffee pot before the front door slammed shut. she checked her phone and there was radio silence, half hoping that you had left an angry voicemail telling her to come home. instead, she was met with her wallpaper of you holding Coco over the summer at her parent’s house.  

tears pool in her eyes as she scrolls through her camera roll, swiping through all the silly photos you made her take that night. she threw her phone on the bed and screamed into the mattress, hoping deep down inside she was braver in another lifetime.

and when the light came to wake me,

and you slowly starting to fade away,

my soul was longing for you to take me,

Ona walked onto the pitch three days later, heart aching to see you. she stepped onto the pitch and spotted you talking to the girls, Ingrid slapping you on the back laughing at a joke Mapi told the group. she decides to avoid you, too cowardly to face the music. you notice her and smile but she turns away quickly, busying herself with her laces. you decide to try and corner her at the end of practice you do, needing the help of the girls to keep her from running to her car the moment Jonatan blows his whistle.

“why did you run away like that, Oni?” you ask her quietly, the rest of the team filtering out when Alexia begins to shepherd them outside.

“it’s none of your business,” she growls, tears flowing down her cheeks as she packs her kit bag. you grab her shoulder and she turns around with anger seething in her eyes. you’ve never seen hatred in her eyes before, it was unlike her; unlike your cheerful, noisy, playful but shy girlfriend.

“Ona? what’s gotten into you?” you ask, feeling tired of all the secrets she’s been harboring. for weeks you’ve been concerned about her odd behavior. she’s been making frequent visits to the medics, getting off practice earlier and staying longer sometimes, random trips to the ‘store’ for hours on end. you thought that she was planning something since your anniversary was coming up and she liked to make a big thing about it but when she left that morning it hit you that she was probably preparing to leave. this time though, it was for good.

it's her third round of dialysis this week. Ona sat in the lumpy chair of her dialysis center when her doctor walks in.

“how does it look, doctor?”

“it’s fourth-stage renal failure, Ona. you need a transplant or else you’re never playing football again. frankly, I don’t know how you’ve kept playing this long.”

“Jonatan knows.”

“I see,” he says and sits. “does your girlfriend know?”

“she’s not my girlfriend anymore.”

“did you decide that for her, or did she have any say?”

Ona looks up at him in shock. she tries not to jostle the machine as she sits up.

“How did you know?”

“you looked like you didn’t want to believe it when you said it.”

“she deserves better than,” she gestures to the machine, “this.”

“she deserves you,” he says and stands. as he walks away and Ona is about to cry, he turns and clears his throat. “she’s donated blood here before, she’s a perfect donor match.”

Ona tries to cry into her palm quietly, the weight of her decision bearing down on her shoulders.

but instead,

i must live without you,

for another day.

you wake up feeling groggy, and the sound of steady heartbeats fills the room. there’s another heartbeat that deep down sounds familiar and it puts a smile on your face.

a chilling call from Jonatan put you in this hospital bed. he explained that Ona needed a transplant and that you were a perfect match. you cried in his office, body shaking with anger at yourself more than at Ona. you knew that it ran in her family and that her age was when the onset was. the extra visits to the doctor and ‘shop’ trips all made sense now. you punched a wall on your way out dramatically, crying like a baby all the way home. you barged into her house, Aitana following behind you like a puppy.

“so you were just going to run and wait for you to die?” you yelled at her, body shaking in fury. she just stared at her fingers, fiddling with the end of the throw blanket in her lap.

“answer me!”

“you don’t deserve this!” she screamed back, tears running down her face. “you don’t deserve someone who is dying to be your girlfriend!”

tears flood down your cheeks and you hear her door click closed, Aitana in front of it.

“you had no right to decide that for me, Oni!”

“I couldn’t put you through this. if I don’t get a kidney soon, first it’ll be football then it’ll be me!”

“I know I’m a match.”

her head whips up to look at you so fast, you’re sure she’s gone and given herself another ailment.

“no.”

“I’m a perfect match, Onita.”

“I could never ask you to do that!”

“you’re not asking if I’ve already asked them to make sure it goes to you.”  

“Bebé, I–”

“no, you would do the same for me. I love you too much to see you like this,” you kneel in front of her as she sits on the bed, feeling overwhelmed. “Please, Oni,” you beg with your head in her lap, “Please let me help you.”

Ona wakes up and looks over at you, sighing in relief that the surgery was a success. the nurses have pushed your beds close enough together that you stretch your arm out and she does the same, fingers laced together with an unspoken promise to face every challenge that comes your way the only way you knew was right; together.

[omgpoindexter]

“It’s going to rain.”

Dex looks up.

Neither he or Nursey have spoken in the last hour, seated in a comfortable silence on the front porch. It’s been the sort of day that makes it uncomfortable to talk, anyway; there’s been a heavy heat smothering them for almost a week now. It makes them antsy and annoyed, so they’ve resorted mostly to silence in a way that would never have happened their freshman year. It’s a development in maturity resulting in long silences that frustrate Chowder and impress Bitty.

Dex is the kind of guy that knows when the rain is coming. He always has been - years of hot, sticky summers on the lobster boat have drilled it into him - but it’s Nursey that squints up at the clouds and makes the statement.

“Hmm,” Dex says, which is neither an agreement or disagreement. Nursey doesn’t seem to notice.

Instead, he cocks his head to one side and smiles up at the approaching dark clouds. “It’s gonna be the kind of rain that makes people take the bus,” he says absently.

Dex frowns reflexively, but inside he’s softly pleased. It’s such a Derek sentence, in its simplicity and its observation. Nursey, however, catches the frown and raises a cool eyebrow. He doesn’t know Dex is gently, sweetly analysing his words.

“Why do you say it like that?” Dex asks, to explain himself before Nursey points out his reflex frown. “The kind of rain that makes you take the bus? Just say it’s a lot of rain.”

Nursey blinks at him, surprised. “I don’t know,” he says after a moment. “I like thinking about it in people terms. It’s more fun.”

“People terms?” Dex asks him. He thinks he knows what Nursey means, but he likes the explanation.

“Yeah,” Nursey shrugs, looking out into the street. The clouds are dark and heavy above them. “People will rush to their cars, or run to bring the laundry in - and if you weren’t sat right here, you’d do it too.”

Dex, surprised, laughs. Nursey looks over at him. He’s smiling a little, and there are crinkles by his eyes.

Then comes a low rumbling noise that echoes through the streets; a clap of thunder quickly follows. Nursey looks away and back at the sky just in time to see it open, and the rain starts, as he said it would.

Dark spots begin to litter the sidewalk and the garden path, rain drumming on the porch roof. Dex hears Bitty shut the kitchen windows somewhere in the Haus behind them.

There’s a shriek from a house a few doors down that makes them both jump. A girl Dex vaguely recognises sprints past them and hurries into her car. Dex looks at Nursey, expecting to see him looking smugly back over at him, but his eyes are fixed on the sky.

He watches Nursey analyse the clouds for a moment.

Dex can imagine the beginnings of a poem forming in his mind: something atmospheric and melancholy that Dex will try to understand but won’t quite, something that encapsulates Derek Nurse in a way Dex wants to be able to do but isn’t quite there yet.

“I guess you’re right,” Dex says, smiling. “Maybe I would.”

[augiewrites]

“secret admirer” - dead poets society (final)

summary: y/n confronts their poet (lightly inspired by this post)

pairing: (not-so) anonymous!dead poet x reader

word count: 536

previous

Y/N felt like they were having an out of body experience—maybe they were dreaming? That seemed like the most reasonable explanation for a night like that.

They kept waiting for the moment where they shot awake in their dorm room, but it had yet to come.

No, this was real, and it was more beautiful than they ever could have imagined.

It was also over much faster than they would have liked. Y/N and Charlie bounced glances back and forth all throughout Neil’s monologue and the following final words from the poets. They were the last two to exit the cave.

Y/N spoke up once there was some distance between them and the rest of the poets, “So it was you this entire time?”

“That it was,” Charlie grinned as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“God, you’re so annoying.”

“What?” Charlie laughed out.

“It’s such a you move to be waxing poetic to me in secret while being an absolute terror in person.”

“Well, I had to get through to you somehow.”

Y/N was having a difficult time being annoyed at the grinning boy.

“You could have tried talking to me like a normal person—you know, the old-fashioned way of doing things.”

“I thought this was the old-fashioned way?” the grin still hadn’t left Charlie’s face, and the light look in his eyes made Y/N’s stomach flutter, “Besides, you wouldn’t have had any of it.”

“Who said I’m having any of it now?”

“Well, you’re here, and you’re actually having a conversation with me without trying to run in the opposite direction,” he stopped walking and faced Y/N, “I’d say that’s a start.”

“Maybe so,” Y/N shrugged and couldn’t help the smile spreading across their face.

Charlie’s features softened, “I liked your poem, by the way…not as good as mine, but it’s the thought that counts.”

“You’re insufferable,” Y/N laughed.

“But you’re suffering me anyway.”

The pair stood in silence for a beat, exchanging soft smiles and savoring the moment.

“So, where do we go from here,” Y/N inquired, “what’s your master plan, Romeo?”

“We go out on a couple dates, get married, grow old together—you know, the usual.”

Y/N rolled their eyes as their cheeks flushed, “would it kill you to be serious for five seconds?”

“Maybe,” Charlie grinned as he entwined his hand in Y/N’s, “I’d really like to kiss you.”

“Then kiss me, Dalton.”

And so he did, and it was perfect.

That is, until the cheering and wolf whistles began from up ahead.

Y/N was impossibly red as Charlie pulled them along with him back to the poets, a mixture of pride and adoration on his face as he looked at them.

“Really, Dalton? We leave you alone with an individual for one minute and you’re already putting the moves on them?” Knox teased the boy.

“Long con, boys,” Charlie wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulders, “works every time.”

“Have I mentioned that you’re insufferable?”

Charlie just smirked and leaned in for another short kiss. Sounds of mock disgust fell upon deaf ears.

Meeks was right, Y/N thought, this night really did wonders for my spirit.

~~~

a/n: keeping it short and sweet for the finale—thanks for all the love on this story <3

taglist: @vvnbxz @edb954 @coralineyouareinterribledanger @ashisabitgay

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XI)

Chapter 11: ‘Lived to see you throwing me aside.’

Hi! Here is another chapter! On the menu today: a dinner with Sam and Frank… I’ll let you guess how well this will go… (I hope my choice for Andrew's pic for this chapter gives you a clue...)

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2933

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Hesitate to call

Lived to see you throwing Me aside. That fought Like nettled fish inside me. Saw you throbbing In my syrups. Saw you sleep. And lived to see That all that all flushed down The refuse. Done? It lives in me. You live in me. Malignant. Love, you ever want me, don’t.

Louise Glück, The First Five Books of Poems

Andrew checked his appearance in the mirror for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

He was nervous beyond reason, after all he was heading to a restaurant to see Sam. And after a long-term relationship, he shouldn’t have felt so troubled by it. But things were different now, things were… complicated, to say the least.

Still, he heaved a sigh, checked his appearance once more. He had let his hair loose, had put on contacts, was wearing a black shirt and some dark jeans. He looked tired, exhausted even. Work was a lot at the moment, he had a thousand things to do. He still struggled to sleep, was still tortured with thoughts and dreams of Sam, of her leaving, of her loving someone else.

November was ending, and with it, the remnants of Andrew’s and Sam’s plans. Plans…

A weekend in Kerry in September. Saimhan with friends. Now, Andrew should be packing. He should be choosing clothes, not for an evening in a restaurant, but for a weekend in Glasgow. A flight late at night leaving from Dublin, another one during the night between Sunday and Monday. And in between, a couple of days just for them, spent eating, visiting museums, seeing the sights, walking around the town. A night in a hotel, one she had chosen, spent on filling their hearts with love and their bodies with lust and desire.

He looked at his reflection again, stared right into his own hazel eyes. They were greener than usual, probably because wearing contacts made his eyes water. He would have been more comfortable with glasses, more relaxed as well, more himself, in a way.

He blinked tears away as a thought crossed his mind, a painful one he wished he could have kept at bay, but he didn’t have the strength for that. Beating himself up was a habit, since childhood. There were thoughts sometimes that formed in his mind that brought him pain, but he listened anyway. Sometimes they were quiet, sometimes they were deafening. These days they were loud and clear.

He went to get his coat, grab his car keys, get ready to leave. He petted Elwood, told him to be a good boy, that he would soon be home. The thought followed him outside his home.

Being himself was never enough for Sam to love him.

Christ, Sam was so beautiful…

It was breaking his heart that they weren’t on a date. As he entered the restaurant, saw her sitting at a table waiting for him, Andrew was reminded of hundreds of evenings spent like this, going on a date in a restaurant, at the cinema, it didn’t even matter where. At the end, they didn’t go out much anymore. Sam always seemed to be too busy for that. At the time, Andrew thought it was only because of her job. Now, he wondered if maybe she had not already started to give up on them.

But he hadn’t. To this day, he hadn’t given up on them…

He kept on admiring her for a few more seconds, until the rest of the table was revealed to him, and the illusion waned. You were there too, facing Frank. The restaurant was posh, he felt a little uneasy in this atmosphere. He wouldn’t have chosen such a place for a date, but he had no doubt that Sam liked it.

He forced a smile as he approached, was greeted warmly by Frank, the first one who spotted him as he approached. You turned on your chair to greet him with a relieved smile, and his heart made a happy jump at the sight of you. He had an ally tonight, he wasn’t on his own…

“You’re late.”

He turned to Sam, his heart dropping again. Her tone was flat, emotionless, and he knew her enough to be aware that it was worse than annoyance. She was angry. He struggled to swallow.

“Yeah, sorry… Had some stuff to take care of before coming.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing it was a lie. Or well, it wasn’t a lie, but the real reason was simply that Andrew was always late. To everything. He couldn’t do much about it; if left unattended, he simply lost track of time. The alarms he had set up had done little to help him tonight. He didn’t add anything, merely took a seat.

“Ha, no worries!” Frank reassured him, and Andrew could tell that he was nervous and willing to make Andrew feel welcome. As a result, Andrew was highly uncomfortable.

“The food looks… interesting,” you commented, trying to drag the conversation away from Andrew, and he was grateful for it.

“The oysters are particularly good!” Frank recommended.

You said nothing, but Andrew frowned.

You… hadn’t you told him once that you weren’t such a fan of seafood?

Indeed, when you chose what to eat, you didn’t follow Frank’s advice at all.

Conversation drifted towards work, and your respective lives. Catching up or getting to know each other.

And Andrew understood Frank’s appeal tonight, as he watched him lead the conversation. He was louder than Andrew ever was, bright, clearly extraverted, longing for people’s attention. He was funny, charming. And handsome, that too, Andrew couldn’t deny that either. His complete opposite. Average height, muscles that threatened the fabric of his sleeves while he passionately talked about his work and moved his hands around, blond with electric blue eyes.

So… that was what Sam longed for? What had made you fall for him?

Andrew tried not to think this way. There was nothing he could do about his physical appearance, his ridiculous height, his gangly stature… there was no need to torture himself over that. He could show that he took care of Sam though. That he paid attention to her. That he loved her…

Because Frank didn’t seem to care all that much. Andrew saw it as you talked about your work, about how nervous you were as you got ready to give your students their first test of the year. And if Andrew was intently listening, Frank was clearly uninterested. He drew the conversation away from your job as soon as he could, offering encouraging words, and quickly moving on. You smiled, but you weren’t fooled. Andrew saw it in the way your gaze saddened, in the way the excitement that had been glimmering there died out instantly. His heart ached at the sight. And when Frank spoke again, Andrew didn’t care.

“Will you set a limit for the length required for the essay?”

Frank grew quiet, frowned. You turned to Andrew, clearly surprised by his question.

“Erm… I haven’t decided yet. I usually don’t.”

“Once a student gave me a twenty-pages long essay…”

“Twenty pages?!”

“Yeah… she was thorough, for sure.”

“Did you read the whole thing?”

“Of course. And now I set a limited word count.”

You chuckled, nodded.

“Maybe I should do that. What about your class about Yeats? Have you decided on a subject for an essay?”

“I’m still hesitating… I want to prepare one about Yeats’s involvement in the Irish Literary Revival… but I could choose one of his love poems about Maud Gonne too.”

You chuckled.

“Why do I feel like they’ll hear a lot about No Second Troy…”

“I love that poem.”

“Anyone who speaks of literature with you for more than ten minutes knows that,” you teased. “It’s a short poem to study, though.”

“Yeah… but that means they would really have to work on each line, instead of simply skipping whatever element they struggle with.”

“True.”

“I feel like it would be easier for them to work on the more political side of Yeats’s work during exam season. The material is easier, and we’ll go thoroughly through the most important aspects of these texts in class. So… I think I’ll ask them to work on love poems at home.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

You exchanged a smile. When Andrew looked up at Frank and Sam, they had stopped listening and were both eating their meal in silence. Sam was looking at something on her phone, a habit she had developed in the past couple of years.

She hadn’t asked him about his job. She hadn’t asked him if he wrote, how he felt, if he was suffering because of her. Perhaps she didn’t want to hear his answers. Perhaps she didn’t really care. Andrew was starting to have doubts. The more the evening was progressing, the more he realised that she didn’t seem to care. Sam and Andrew had spent years together, but she wasn’t listening as he spoke of his work, of the things he loved most on Earth.

Did she even care at all about him anymore? She used to listen to him talk about music and poetry for hours, back when they were students…

Or did she? She had never liked his own writing, but he thought she listened when he spoke of what he loved, still. She didn’t seem willing to make an effort these days… but then again, they weren’t together anymore. So, why would she?

“I’ve listened to your record, by the way!”

Andrew blinked, looked at you again.

“What?”

“Duke Ellington and John Coltrane. I’ve listened to it.”

He raised a surprised eyebrow.

“Did you? Really?”

You nodded, an excited smile on your lips.

“Of course! I’m going to sound very basic, I think In a Sentimental Mood was my favourite… although I really loved My Little Brown Book too.”

His mouth broke into a bright grin.

“Grand! Like… that’s grand! I’m glad you liked it.”

Frank stared at you for a moment.

“Who are you talking about?” he asked, trying to slither in the conversation.

“Andy recommended me some music! I have a whole list at this point,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow and making him chuckle and blush.

“It’s Jazz,” Andrew explained. “Some of the greatest, honestly.”

Sam heaved a sigh, still focused on her screen.

“Oh… nice,” Frank nodded, although he didn’t sound convincing at all.

“I really liked it a lot,” you went on. “I don’t really have the vocabulary to describe it, like… on a technical point of view, you know? But I liked it. It was very… like… drawing me in, in a way. There was tension, and then once I was trapped in the song, there was so much emotion there… And it’s unusual for me to be so focused when listening to instrumental music. I have a busy brain, I get distracted easily.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I have a busy brain too… but that’s what Blues and Jazz do to me. They kind of… shush my brain. Make it go quiet.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“You like music, then, Andy?”

Andrew looked at Frank again, wanted to correct him and ask to be called Andrew… but he didn’t want to seem rude. He didn’t like it, though, how he used his nickname.

“Yeah, a lot.”

“Andy wanted to be a musician, back in the days,” Sam intervened, putting her phone down again.

“Really? What instrument do you play?”

“I sing, mostly… play guitar too.”

“But you didn’t make a career out of it? Not that it’s surprising, it’s a tough field to work in. Most people can’t make a living out of it. Like… there’s so much competition, so few who actually get to make it. It must be a tough life.”

“A few of his friends made it though, and he had the talent for it,” Sam went on. “But Andy is not one to compromise easily.”

Andrew stared at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What do you mean by that?”

She shrugged.

“You could have had a record deal, had you accepted to change a few things about your songs.”

Andrew huffed, he could barely believe his ears…

“There was never an opportunity for me to record my own songs, and you know that. I didn’t want to sing those… attempts at pop hits that felt soulless to me.”

“And you didn’t get a record deal.”

“I didn’t want that kind of deal. I wanted to record the songs I had written.”

She didn’t say a thing, but her thoughts were loud enough for Andrew to guess them.

And then you didn’t record any of those either.

“Why are you saying all that like you’re resenting me?” Andrew asked, and Sam shook her head.

“I don’t resent you, of course! It was your choice.”

“You do sound like it though…”

“I’m just pointing out that you’re not the kind of guy who compromises much.”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow and huffed again.

“You’re one to talk…” he mumbled.

Andrew spent his time compromising. Had he not compromised when he wanted to take a job in London and had settled for Dublin instead because she didn’t want to move there? When she refused to move in with him and asked for more time to find herself? When she chose most of their topics of conversations? When he barely talked about his work?

He let out a long exhale, took a bite of the overpriced fish he had ordered. He didn’t even like the food…

Sam spoke again, about some stupid tv reality she had been watching with Frank, and you listened even though you hadn’t seen it. Meanwhile, Andrew wanted to talk about music with you again. He wanted to ask you about Duke Ellington, he wanted to ask you what songs you liked, he wanted to listen to you ramble about how music made you feel. Your thoughts were always interesting, he could have talked with you for hours… and sometimes he did.

But he shook himself. He wanted Sam. He wanted to have Sam back, and nobody was perfect. There were some things in Sam that annoyed him or disappointed him or that he didn’t understand but at the end of the day she was Sam, and that was enough for him.

He was quieter throughout the rest of the evening, trying to do some damage control over the couple of tensed moments that had occurred during the night.

But then the conversation settled on the wedding itself, and things turned ill all over again…

“And we need to settle on a cake too! Christ, everything is complicated when you’re planning a wedding!” Sam laughed, while Andrew was tightly closing his fists under the table, until his nails drew crescent marks into his palms, while you looked away in a hurry.

“You know… I thought we could choose a strawberry cake,” Frank said. “It’s a classic, most people like those…”

“Sam is allergic to strawberries,” Andrew answered without thinking.

An uncomfortable silence settled across the table.

“Oh… you didn’t tell me that, babe,” Frank told Sam, who frowned.

Clearly, she had told him before, but she said nothing.

“Well, we’ll choose something else!” Frank shrugged.

“What about your career, then?” you asked your ex, staring intensely at him.

“My career?”

“You… you used to say that you wanted to wait to get married because you needed to focus on your career.”

Slowly, Frank nodded.

“Yeah… that’s true. I used to want that. But… it’s different with Sam.”

Andrew saw the pain that shot across your features. There was so much anger that ran through his veins then…

“Right,” you nodded.

“Like… my work seemed the most important, but now… not anymore. Or… not in the same way. So, why wait?”

“Why wait, indeed…” you slowly nodded while Frank and Sam exchanged a tender gaze, one that made Andrew nauseous.

He looked down at the piece of cheesecake he had barely touched, decided not to eat it. He couldn’t get anything more down…

The meal ended in a quiet mood, with conversations spent mostly between Sam and Frank, but the couple seemed satisfied with this situation. When they disappeared in a cab together, Andrew felt emptier than ever. A shell without a pulse or any other semblance of life…

“Andy?”

He turned around to look at you standing behind him in the street, right before the restaurant. Your frame was illuminated by both the white light coming from the restaurant’s sign and the orange hues of the streetlights.

He caught himself thinking that you were beautiful, had to push the thought away. But you were. You had dressed up tonight, undoubtedly to impress Frank, just like Andrew had tried to impress Sam with his careful choice of outfit. And Andrew was impressed, at any rate. You were gorgeous…

You offered him a humourless smile.

“Tonight was… a lot, right?”

He nodded, letting out a long exhale through his nose.

“You can say that…”

“I can’t say that it went… incredibly well.”

“No… it was… strange.”

“Let’s put it that way, yeah.”

“I’m not sure it helped us make any progress.”

“I’m not so sure either. On the contrary. But we tried, at least.”

Andrew nodded, looked at you as you heaved a sigh.

“You know what I want right now?”

He shook his head, tilting his head to the side as he waited for you to speak again, his hands now buried in his pockets.

“I really… really… want to get drunk. Like… hammered. Properly destroyed.”

Andrew exploded with laughter.

“You know what… sign me up! Getting very drunk sounds nice!”

“Let’s go to my place. I don’t want to be surrounded by people anymore,” you offered, and Andrew easily accepted.

As he followed you throughout the street, he reckoned that at least one thing in this evening could be pleasant, after all.

[idcallmyselfhuman]

XiaoAether Masterlist 👹⛅

Edit: version 2.0 here

Or, every XiaoAether moment that I can remember (and an attempt to organize them)

Starting this off with the one scene that made us all go "wait a fucking minute" at the very start of the game,

Battle of Osial

Aether's feet were already steadied. Xiao could've let go, or let him fall as gracefully as Mountain Shaper did to that guard (I would've hated him forever) but considering that he insists that being near mortals is such a biiiig no-no, he could have, but he didn't. No, even more, he fucking tightened his hold.

-

Teyvat Food Notes (Sweet Dream, Adeptus' Temptation and Satisfying Salad)

Next! The promotionals during Xiao's release as a playable character. Specifically, Teyvat Food Notes. To celebrate his release, they made an Almond Tofu + Sweet Dream Food blog.

Note: Both google translate and Papago seem to use Mandrill instead of Xiao, so... just know that's who it's talking about.

This is where we learn that Xiao didn't even make "Sweet Dream"; this dish was Aether's thank you gift to him. Xiao's specialty dish is a gift from Aether. I'm- agh. ANYWAY.

We actually also see Sweet Dream in Childe's birthday art. And I'm really sorry to Tartaglia but seeing it stole all his thunder. I could not get over it.

I like to think Aether was so busy making Childe food that he absentmindedly started preparing Almond Tofu in the way he's used to (because of how often Xiao requests it :'> ).

Just when I thought that was it for the Teyvat Food Notes and I could've moved on, I found this in the Adeptus' Temptation food note; the one they made for the first Lantern Rite.

Note: "Fairy/Buddha Jump over the Wall" is apparently an actual Chinese delicacy that the Adeptus' Temptation is based on!

I found this part really cute, especially right now because of the poetry event. Since the beginning, Aether's always known that Xiao was capable of being poetic, it just took them being close and his encouragement for Xiao to actually make a poem.

Lastly, Aether's Satisfying Salad. This isn't connected to the food blog this time (since that one's for Mona), but rather, this and Almond Tofu are the first dishes Aether has ever given Xiao in the game. I included this despite it being pretty minor because in Moonlight Merriment, Smiley Yanxiao actually brings this up again.

Smiley Yanxiao: The boss told me to take care of him, but this guy, let me tell you - he is one tough nut to crack. He usually turns his nose up at everything that isn't Almond Tofu.

Xiao willingly ate something that wasn't Almond Tofu because... because what, it was given to him by a cute blonde traveler? The jury's still out on that one.

-

Lantern Rite 1.3, Baizhu Story Quest

I'm sure we're already familiar with this scene, right?

The very first time Xiao promised Aether that no matter what, as long as he calls his name, he'll be there. Right after that was Moonlight Merriment, where the game literally specifies that Xiao made that promise just for Aether. Way to make your commitment subtle.

Ah, Xiao, you're so easy... Of course, this wouldn't be the last time that Aether calls for him and Xiao arrives immediately. This also happened during Baizhu's story quest to, yet again, the astonishment of everyone around excluding these two. (Xiao's dedication is one of a kind)

Xiao worries over Aether often, despite knowing that they're both formidable in their own right. I also think it's sweet how every time they meet, Xiao's departing words are always a reminder to call for him whenever needed, to the point where there are times that Aether just goes "Yeah, we know." before he can even finish the sentence.

Unfortunately, though, there is one time where Xiao failed to reach Aether when he called him, but only because he physically wasn't able to.

-

Perilous Trail (Interlude)

The only thing that prevented this man from getting to Aether like always was being in a different plane of existence. Romeo and Juliet wish they were this romantic istfg

Aether: Come find us.

Xiao: No.

Yanfei: But Aether's in trouble!

Xiao: How do we meet?

Now where else did someone pull this tactic recently-

...Again, XIAO YOU ARE SO EASY. But anyway, back to the Chasm bc I wasn't quite done with that-

As soon as Yanfei tells Aether that Xiao is awake, Ae comes running. Just full on "stop saying you're fine i'll be the judge of that"

And he looks so angry when Xiao brings up writing a will. augguh they are sooooo- (i would put a reaction pic here if i didn't have an IMAGE LIMIT fuck tumblr bro)

To finish off the Chasm Interlude on a more serious note, this entire conversation was really touching, and I love seeing the progress these two have made over the years. Xiao letting himself open up with Aether's help year by year is one of my favorite things about this game.

-

Teapot and Character Voice Lines + Birthday Letters

For the first and second Lantern Rite, Xiao was still adamant on not even stepping foot in Liyue Harbor, declining every invitation to go there because of how much he disliked being near mortals.

Yet in his teapot voicelines, once you reach a high enough friendship with him, Xiao actually takes the initiative to invite Aether to go to the city, if only to understand him better. Xiao explicitly says that his willingness to go to the harbor was for him.

More About Xiao I: I'm willing to protect you.But don't think about getting close, and stay out of my way, or all that awaits you is regret.

More About Xiao V: It's too late. The connection between us is too strong. Even if you wanted to, it's too late to sever it. Hm? You've never thought to sever it?

About Shenhe: It seems Shenhe places a great deal of trust in you. Well, how could she not. There are few people in the world as kind and good-natured as you.

Shenhe, About Xiao: My first impression of him was that he's not one to smile. After meeting him again more recently, however, he's still as reserved as ever, but… he seems a lot more relaxed now. Maybe he… met someone special.

That line by Shenhe made me happy. Aether's effect on Xiao benefitted not only him, but the people surrounding Xiao as well. We even see that in his birthday letters, where at the most recent one, he follows Ae's advice and goes to spend time with old friends.

They're also all just insanely romantic, I feel like that goes without saying. Every year, I wonder how Genshin would possibly top the one before it that isn't just an explicit confession of undying love.

-

Lantern Rite '23

I'm here to remind you all of a beautiful scene that should never be forgotten for years to come.

Regardless of Genshin trying to be mysterious and making us guess who saved Aether, the fact that they both came rushing over is incredible on its own. They know that Aether isn't a damsel in distress, and Paimon's acting was so on the nose, but they still couldn't allow even the slightest possibility of harm to come to him.

Xiao looking away and talking in circles just to say he really was worried is the funniest fucking thing.

For the Lantern Rite event itself, if you've read this far in, you're probably already familiar. I really wish there wasn't an image limit because I have so many screenshots I want to put in here. If you want a refresher, watch this and start around the 2-hour mark

I wanted to put my own video in the post but you can only put one :/// I'm fist fighting whoever put these limits. 1 video file and 30 images? who are you

BACK TO THE TOPIC

There really isn't much I could say that I haven't already said before. For XiaoAether shippers, this was hoyo spoonfeeding content on a silver spoon. It's Aether and Xiao at their most comfortable with each other, talking and spending time with the people they care about. It's Aether fulfilling his end of the bargain of bailing Xiao out of uncomfortable social situations, because if you haven't noticed throughout all of these examples (or even outside of that), Aether is so perceptive when it comes to the comfort of the people around him.

This was also the event where we find out that for Xiao, the most distinguished guest in his eyes was Aether (Even though Ae thought he was going to say Zhongli..)

I have a lot of love for this event. But since this isn't just a lantern rite post, I'll move on.

-

Waterborne Poetry

The catalyst for this post. The reminder of how lovely this ship is, and how far these two have come.

As we have all learned from Xiangling, Yanfei, Venti and Hu Tao, you only need to mention Aether's name to convince Xiao of whatever it is you're planning. The part where Aether and Team Chongyun were trying to convince him to come with them and touch some fucking grass was really cute.

This event and the previous Lantern Rite also had Aether and Xiao talking privately, only to get interrupted by Paimon/Xiangling (as well as calling them out lmao)

And, of course, the scene that everyone freaked out over,

This. I don't think I'll ever get over this.

The fact that they had Zach voice this- A short, but sweet moment where Aether looks at Xiao from afar and immediately gets inspired, performing a poem where the real meaning is shared only between the two of them...

And Xiao's smile.

An expression that Aether had done so well to bring out.

2023 was the year of XiaoAether. Thank you, Hoyo.

-

Done! I HAVE SO MANY SCREENSHOTS AND I COULDN'T EVEN USE MOST OF THEM ToT. I actually had clips that I edited but Tumblr said no. Good thing there's YouTube.

Another reason as to why I made this was because some shippers said that XiaoAe didn't make sense because it lacked depth and I was so affronted by it that I did all this out of spite (and love for these characters. mostly love.)