#she used to walk 3 hours to get to gymnastics classes

[bewitched-by-sorns-tiddies]

Sometimes the only way to like, help your anxiety is to recognize what it is, challenge it, and celebrate whatever level of win you get.

I'm anxious about time. That is what a therapist would tell me but my brain thinks I'm just logical. If Google maps tells me 35 minutes, I'm giving myself 55. Minimum. You see, my body is broken. I am pushing it to the maximum most days but it is broken. A few years ago I used to just... drop and fall. I need time to relocate my joints. I need time because I might be slower. And the trains, don't get me started on the trains- there's so many things that can go wrong with a train.

Monday was gymnastics. Google maps says it is 55 mins away- do you see the problem? Gymnastics is 2 trains away. /2/ I have been getting to class over an hour early consistently because my brain thinks that's the logical time to leave.

We get to station #2 on our journey and need to transfer... the elevator is down. The only option is to get back on the train we were on and go several stations and take a different train in.

I take a deep breath.

I get on a train.

It is going north, not south.

I send a message that we're not going to class because we'll never get there in time at this rate- the nearest station we can flip around at is 3 stations away. Literally at the first station we go to.

We get there. I look at the time. It'll be a tight fit. I could have gone home but instead I took a deep breath and reminded myself that my mental map of how long it takes includes the walk to station 1- that saves us 15 minutes because we're already here.

We take the train south this time. Google tells me that class is 25 minutes away. I have 35 minutes to get there. I call my wife and walk to the next train. I tell her if we're late, I won't go in. I'll turn around. I can't do *that* but I'm going to try and get us there on time.

We get to the next train with two minutes until it leaves. I hold my breath.

We make it to class 10 minutes early.

Today I was rushing to get us back for nap, but we needed two essential pieces of groceries. I told her that I'd take her for nap and then we'd get groceries later. The grocery store is literally on the way home and I had already put 12,000 steps down by 1pm. Going back later would add at least 3k more.

I took a breath. I timed myself. It took 5 minutes to go inside the grocery store and get what we needed and get out.

She didn't go to sleep. It'd be easy to be mad at myself for stopping at the grocery store. But 5 minutes is not why she didn't nap today.

I remind myself that. And I will remind myself again if my brain offers that up as justification for why we can't stop next time. 5 minutes did not cause the problem.

Sometimes you have to celebrate the wins you have. Sometimes you have to challenge the thoughts and the feelings and do The Scary Thing.

It's the only way to change.

[keo-k]

sometimes i think i wasnt an injury-prone child and then i realise im gaslighting myself

tw: fair descriptions of injury?? if you dont like blood uhh dont read <3 this is just me reminiscing on being a child who thinks they cannot feel. pain. sorry if its incoherent im very sick and life feels like a fever dream and i did not sleep last night! this is so diary-entry-core TLDR i had a lot of random injuries and a few medical mysteries.

i keep looking at the middle of my chest like "man where the fuck did i get this scar from" and then i remember this one childhood day where i was filled with hubris and slid down a chain in a playground and my skin tore from under my shirt and i started bleeding terribly ill also occasionally look at the permanent callouses on my hands and remember running down a hill at full speed, followed by rolling down a hill at full speed, crashing into rocky concrete, looking down at my hands and being utterly terrified because they're entirely covered in blood???? its all red??????? also spinning on the biggest rock in the rock garden in front of my house after a friend's birthday party blowing bubbles when i lose my footing and land chin-first into the sharpest rock there, getting blood all over my favourite party dress and having to go to the ER for 6 hours and getting, not stitches, but glue. yeowie. i scratched most of the scar off somehow, just tearing the skin off my face because i didnt like the texture. its still kind of there if you look at the right angle. being in gymnastics class, doing beat swings on the high bars, thinking "whey my hands hurt im gonna drop and get some chalk (for some reason. its not like i was slipping i was just yeowch)", dropping down, looking at my hands and LO AND BEHOLD three inches of the skin beneath my ring finger on both hands is sticking up stupid vertical ! i couldnt use my hands too good for the next two weeks, also the skin sticking up WAS NOT DEAD so i couldnt trim it without feeling excruciating pain. like cutting your ear off :( not really a "when i was younger" thing, still valid now, but i have hyper mobility so im stupid flexible. especially in my ankles! like i cant do sports without wearing ankle braces on both legs. even that cannot save me sometimes, i still die. anyway my mum thought i was a piece of shit and was faking my ankle injuries bc the limping would last like. a whole month wowie! then we realised i just have bad joint. also i can hit the splits anywhere without stretching, i can walk on the literal sides of my ankles (not like. the sides of my feet no no no. go even further beyond.), i can fold my fingers backwards into silly lookin curls without any pain and keep them there no issue, and i have gotten many MANY greenstick fractures even after my bones developed a lot because my bones soft and refuse to break like a normal persons. like my basketball coach will bend my leg back to test how far it goes and i wont feel any pain and he'll say like. "oh thats waaaay too far back to be safe." and ill laugh because it can go WAY further back! and i hate it !

BONUS: ME BEING A MEDICAL MYSTERY WOOOOO up to age 8 i would have these ... seizures? all throughout the night. i would shake super aggressively and it wouldnt wake me up. my mum filmed it one night when she finally caught it on video (she would stay up HOURS ON END trying to catch it. wild). the shaking would start like a twitching at my fingers and would travel to my hand, to my arm, to the rest of my body and youd think i got fucking electrocuted. anyway she showed it to doctors and they brought me in immediately to scan my brain for fuck knows what and they didnt. find anything? like my brain activity was completely normal. they didnt let me out of hopital for a week cus theyre like "THIS ISNT NORMAL SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THIS KID" but. womp womp. we never found out. i dont shake anymore but i do shmove a lot. like, a lot a lot. and im always tired and im capable of falling asleep standing up. and have minor chronic fatigue. also i had a bullseye-type thingy on my thigh that really, REALLY looked like a tick bite! i was in immense amounts of pain and couldnt properly walk. there was a dot in the middle, and this surrounding ring of red would expand and shrink overtime. very reasonable to think of it as a tick bite. anyway my parents carried me out to the car in the middle of the night so we could go to sick kids. they measured how much the ring would expand by (i dont remeber number. it was beeg.) and then they sent me to the ER out of the concern that i would get lyme disease. they tested me or something idk i was unconcious and. IT WASNT A TICK BITE! you may be asking "so what was it, mr gorgeous fish?" um. well heres why this is in the 'medical mystery' section. they never found out. it went away a day later and we were just like "ah. okay." so. whoops. when i was a toddler they put me in an mri thing where they uh. strapped me down because toddlers usually freak out and damage the mri thingy? anyway. was in there for two hours. and i did not freak out. at all. i was asleep for one of the hours, but the second one i just laid there very awake and very still and the doctors thought i had brain. damage. i didnt! yay ! i also have many chronic illness now. weeeee i probably missed a lot of my stories here but anyway. heres me being silly

[laulas]

What a Wedding

Few relationships have impacted my life as much as the one with the girl I babysat. It started at the end of the summer after I graduated high school. I worked at a day camp, and it was nearing the end when I saw a flyer in the front office that said, “great dad, great daughter with great tickets to everything .” As someone who had been babysitting since I was 11 years old, and loved all things concerts, I knew it was the job for me. Even before I went to meet with them, I was elated at the prospect. At our first meeting, the dad told me he ran radio stations around the country, worked 5 days a week, and sometimes traveled for work. He would pay me $10 an hour..in 1994, at 19 years old, I could think of nothing better. I was attending community college and scheduled my classes so I’d be available to pick up my new charge at 2 when school let out. I’d stay with her until 7 or so when dad came home. And so began 8 of the most impactful years of my life. Her Mom and dad had just divorced and mom wasn’t really in the picture. Soon after I started babysitting, she moved to Oklahoma to be near her mom. Carly was an adorable 7 year old with huge brown eyes, missing teeth and the cutest round cheeks. Looking back on our time together I know our relationship served me well. At 19, having to pick up Carly kept me grounded, and young at heart. I drove her to activities, made her do her homework, made plans with her friends for her, made dinner, and all the other things…. I always had a heavy heart that Carly’s mom couldn’t be the one doing those things, but I was happy to step in, and couldn’t ask for a better kid. When they moved to a house with a pool, trampoline, and a basketball net, life with Carly only got better. God I loved jumping on that trampoline with her. Carly started gymnastics and I loved watching her flip around on there. There were 3 sisters who lived next door as built in play mates, and I got to know their family too. All these years later, the dad says I saved him, became my role enabled him to do his job. But they saved and enriched my life in ways unimaginable. I had a breakdown at some point towards the end which I woefully regret(even though I had no control over it)When Carly was 15, her dad was blessed to retire from his corporate job. I was in my teaching career by that time, and Carly really didn’t need a babysitter of course…so it came to an end. Carly was a junior bridesmaid in my wedding and our relationship has continued in some capacity for almost 30 years. I know this bond happens w caregivers, and I’m beyond blessed I got to be a part of it. As for the great tickets, I attended countless pro football games, game 7 of the marlins World Series, the Panthers first playoff game, *NSYNC, and so many more I can’t recall. The best ticket I ever received, however, was this past weekend, to Carly’s wedding. If you wrote a prescription for the type of person I would have hoped for Carly to become, there she is. Im in awe of her humble, elegance, warm and caring personality, and just overall radiance. I cried like a baby when Carly and Bob walked down the aisle(getting choked up just thinking about it now). Forget the father/daughter dance. Carlys best childhood friend and I could not keep it together but we had each other. The night went off without a hitch. I’ve been to plenty of weddings, and maybe I’m a smidge biased but this wedding was put together with care, and it was beyond fun. The food, the decor, the venue, the details. Everyone there was dancing until they kicked us out. And the groom, oh my goodness. If you could order a person who is a good match, Nick would be that person. I get choked up when I read this….my only wish is for Carly to be as happy as she deserves!!

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 1 - Meet the Players

Marinette originally came to the IKEA an hour outside of Gotham to buy twinkle lights for her new living room. She eventually extended her trip into obtaining new dishes since all she had right now was empty takeout containers she kept rewashing. She would have been very content getting what she needed and being on her way, (no, she wasn't lonely Plagg, she had two dozen mini-gods to keep her company, shut up) but halfway between the bedding and lights sections, Marinette’s life changed forever. 

For the better, if she was being honest. 

She never would have realized it if she hadn’t ducked into a showroom to test out a couch. She settled against the fluffy folds, knowing it would be destroyed within minutes if she ever brought it home when she noticed him. A boy, no man, about her age, hiding behind a desk looking for all the world as if he were plotting world domination or someone’s demise. 

They looked at each other in shock for a moment. 

“Are… are you ok-”

“Shhh!” his green eyes narrowed, and boy, Marinette had been on the receiving end of death glares before, but this one had to take the cake. 

“Sorry,” she whispered. 

He rolled his eyes. “Do you see a group of dark-haired obnoxious idiots out there?” he asked. 

The request was an odd one, but Marinette rose from the couch and glanced around outside of the showroom. She didn’t see anyone fitting his description. She shook her head. 

He smirked. “My idiot older brothers dragged me along for a “family bonding experience”." He made the little quotation marks, and Marinette never thought anyone could look cool doing that, but somehow this person nailed it. "Tt. I’ve successfully avoided them for an hour. Didn’t know when the coast would be clear though.” He rose gracefully from the ground, looking all the more like a prince, rather than a crazy person hiding from his family. 

It was absurd. 

Marinette found herself instantly amused. 

“I have friends exactly like that, I totally get it,” she said, thinking how Adrian would be beside himself when she told him the story later. The pang of loneliness that had been present since she’d left her friends in Paris, for college in America re-emerged. She shook her head of the maudlin thoughts. 

The Kwamis would have had a field day with this idea too, thankfully she had left them in her severely under-furnished apartment for the day in order to avoid the squabbling that came with only taking a few of them out of the house.  

Marinette looked back out at the hallway again, wondering if the man's brothers would soon appear, finding herself invested in what would happen. “What are you going to do now?” 

“Well, Drake has the keys, and those idiots will be at their shenanigans till the store closes, so…” he shrugged. 

“Are they like… furnishing a whole house?” Marinette didn’t know how you could spend an entire day here. Sure, it was big, but… 

“No. We’re engaged in a no holds barred game of hide-and-seek.” Marinette’s mouth dropped open. “If one of them catches me I become the seeker.” 

“Why?” 

He smirked, “Because I’ve held out the longest.” 

"No, I mean, why are you playing hide-and-seek?" It seemed an odd choice for a bunch of adults. Well, Marinette and her friends would do it. But they also willing became superheroes at the age of fourteen so their judgment was already in question.   

He shrugged. "My oldest brother thought it would be fun, and our father is... out of town at the moment," he said with a bit of hesitation. 

“So, you’re just going to hide in this showroom till the store closes?” 

A devious smile spread across the man’s handsome features. “No. I intend to troll them. If Grayson wants my participation, I'm going to make him regret it.” 

It was at that moment she crossed the point of no return, not that Marinette knew it yet.

Throwing away any idea of finishing her shopping today she returned his smirk. “Any chance I could join you in your crusade?” 

The guy looked her over suspiciously. “Why should I allow a stranger to join me and potentially ruin my chances at victory?” 

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, your brothers know you well?” He nodded. “Then they likely know what you’ll do to avoid and troll them. You need a fresh perspective. Plus, I can operate out in the open, I’m not officially a part of the game.” 

“Hmm...” his face was impassive; Marinette couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “You make some good points, but I’m not fully convinced.” 

Marinette huffed, “I also grew up in Paris without being akumatized.” 

He looked at her oddly. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Paris had a terrorist for five years that turned people into monsterized versions of themselves if they felt negative feelings. They were called Akuamas. Everyone in my class had it happen to them at least once. More for some particularly loose cannons.” 

The guy looked bewildered. “Why didn’t anyone hear about this?” 

Marinette shrugged, trying to play off her knowledge as what a normal civilian would know. “Combination of corrupt politicians, social media blackouts, and magic. People died during these attacks, but everything was put to rights at the end of every fight due to the superheroes powers.” 

His mouth dropped, but he recovered quickly looking contemplative. “I want to know more about this at a later time, but if what you say is true you can control yourself better than the average peon. But my brothers and I are a combination of street orphans, circus brats, gymnastics freaks, and geniuses - are you sure you can keep up?” 

Marinette nearly laughed at his description but managed to keep a straight face. “Positive.” 

“Alright, I'll do whatever it takes to win.” He offered her his hand. “I’m Damian.” 

She took it, feeling a slight shock as her fingers touched his. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you, Damian.” 

“You won’t be saying that soon enough,” he said with a slight smirk. He looked over her shoulder. “Shit.” He dove beneath the desk he’d been hiding behind earlier. “Tall guy with the white streak in his hair.” Marinette turned to look. “Don’t make it too obvious,” he hissed. 

Marinette grabbed her phone and leaned against the desk. With small side glances, she saw a man probably mid to late twenties with two-toned hair. He wore a leather jacket and seemed to be searching for something, or someone. 

“Who’s that?” she asked quietly. 

“Second oldest brother, Jason Todd - arguably the most and least dangerous.” 

“Why both?” 

“He did not want to participate initially, so he’s reluctant, but at the same time, he hates losing.  He’ll hang on to the bitter end. More resourceful than the other two, and more violent, although less sophisticated.” 

Jason moved closer to their showroom. 

“Hush, he’s headed this way,” she whispered. Damian remained quiet and Marinette tried to make herself look busy. 

“Quick question miss?” Marinette glanced up from her phone. Jason stood at the entrance to the showroom. 

“Oh, uh, oui? Non, non, I mean yes?” Marinette said in an exaggerated accent, playing into the oblivious tourist stereotype always came in handy. 

“Oh French, shit, haven’t spoken that in a while,” he muttered. “Um...” 

“Non, it iz okay, I speak English well. Can I help you?” She batted her eyes just a bit. Marinette had long since grown from the days of not using all her advantages - courtesy of forced confidence from Chole. A friendship no one had seen coming but had grown quick and strong once they reached an understanding. 

“Oh, I’m looking for my little brother, about yay high, black hair, green eyes, permanent scowl. Have you seen him?” 

Marinette pretended to think for a second. “Non... I do not theenk so, perhaps help desk at zee front?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jason said, Marinette could see he had already written her off as useless. “Thanks, anyway.” He walked away quickly. 

There was a minute of silence. “Coast is clear,” said Marinette once Jason was out of sight. 

Damian popped up, a gleam in his eyes. “Your lying skills are adequate; we may just win this yet.” 

“I’m glad to meet such high approval, monsieur. Let’s get going.” 

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3 

Chapter 4

[koreanmadeingreece]

Why, why, why (3)

University student!Yuta x reader

Genre: slight enemies to lovers au, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and several mixups

Summary: You just got into uni and decided to move in with your childhood friend!Taeyong at the city where you are going to study. As you’re about to start your new, adult life, you meet his friends, and you realize that not everyone likes you. Nakamoto Yuta in particular almost seems like he hates you.

A/N: In this fic, Jonghyun from NU’EST appears for a while (just to avoid confusion). Also, wow I never thought I’d post this. I hope you guys like it. Also I thought I’d update every Sunday but I couldn’t restrain myself. Welp. 

Warnings: n/a

Word count: 1.8K (I should let you know that I’ve finished writing it so I’ll update it every 3 or 4 days!)

Part 3/I don’t remember First / Previous / Next

Taglist: @melitadala @chxotickpoptrash (please let me know if you’d like to be tagged!)

When you entered the house, V ran into your arms for an embrace, calling you his savior, as you had just brought the food, which made the others laugh. When you reassured them again that you were okay with treating them, you all sat down in your freshly cleaned living room to eat. 

That was when you noticed Yuta sitting a bit further than the others, eating quietly, and decided to come a bit closer to him.

“You’re not very talkative, are you?” You tried to joke around since no one would listen to you. The others were arguing about one of the professors at uni and if he’s single, so they wouldn’t even notice you switching places. 

“Oh, sorry, it was just that I was thinking about something. It shouldn’t make you worry, really,” he answered.

“Are you sure? Because you haven’t talked to me all day. I mean, I know you just met me this morning and that I’m not your friend, but I’d love to get to know you a bit better.” 

“I’m okay with that, don’t worry about me. I’m just paranoid sometimes and I’m thinking a bit too much about certain things, so just ignore me when I do that, okay?”

“So, we’re off to a good start, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess you can say that.” He smiled at you. This was the second smile he had offered you ever since this morning, and it kind of made you light up a bit. You still didn’t know what made you so interested in him. You just had to get to know him. 

The next day was similar to the first, as you had to finish cleaning and start unpacking both yours and Taeyong’s things and decorate the living room. Thankfully, Taeyong didn’t have a much different taste than yours, so it was actually easy to decide what you’d hang on the walls and what color the couch pillows would be. The biggest issue was your rooms and what you’d do with them. 

You took the boxes with your stuff and Johnny immediately came to help, offering to also help you with your room. V followed you and Yuta went to help Taeyong. You enjoyed their company a lot if you were going to be completely honest, and you secretly thought they’d let you join them sometimes. You really thought you weren’t a burden for them, as they’ve been friends for years and you just came to disrupt their lives. You’d never even think of causing a problem to them, so you waited patiently for any signs that would show you how they felt about you. There was just one thing you had to ask.

“So, how did you guys meet?” you asked, as you were placing your clothes in the closet.

“Do you mean us two, or…”

“All of you. How did you become like… a group?” 

“Ah, funny story,” V said, “I got into a fight on my first day of uni. Someone just came straight to me and called me names because I was zoning out, and Johnny with Taeyong came to my rescue.”

“Aw, they’re true heroes,” you laughed.

“Something like that. Taeyong and Johnny met right there in front of me, and then we all decided to go to lunch together. Then Yuta came. Taeyong had met him a few hours earlier and told him to go to lunch with him, so we all sat together. And we clicked.” 

Johnny nodded in agreement and gave you a stack of clothes to put away, while V was telling the story from your bed. You hadn’t put the sheets on it yet, so it was only a mattress, but it worked well for him. 

“I don’t know if I should be asking this but are Taeyong and Yuta that close? I mean, he doesn’t tell me much over the phone, and with all the stuff going on because of the house we haven’t really talked yet,” you asked.

“They’re close. They’re not together if that’s what you’re asking. They’re just really good friends. If you ask me, we make a great group. It’s just that he always was a bit more protective over Taeyong, but Yuta’s definitely straight. If he wasn’t I’m sure they’d already been together by now,” Johnny told you and you continued putting clothes away, when Johnny interrupted your thoughts. “Don’t mind him. He might seem a bit distant, but he’ll open up eventually. It’s probably that you’ve been friends with Taeyong for so long and he feels kind of left out.”

“Oh my god, have I done anything like that?”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it. He was thinking about it ever since he found out you’d move with Taeyong but, trust me, you haven’t done anything. I mean, you didn’t make any of us feel bad. You’re actually fun to be around. You can come to hang out with us whenever you want, okay?” Johnny’s words were music to your ears. What you were hoping for was coming true. Your new life had officially started taking its form, and you were ecstatic about it. 

Your house was finally ready, your posters were on the walls and your clothes were in the closet. After you made your bed and had V try it out, you could finally sit and enjoy it.

“Did you call your mom? She’s probably scared to death that she just let you handle a new house on our own,” Taeyong told you after the guys left.

“I did and I also sent her pictures. She’s thrilled.”

“Your dad?”

“Mom said he just nodded. I wouldn’t expect anything else.” You sat on the couch next to Taeyong.

“He doesn’t get really involved, does he?”

“Only when he’s in the mood. Which happens about… five times a year?”

“Sucks to be you.”

“Yeah, especially when he missed my gymnastics performance.” You took a bite of your sandwich. 

“Well, now you’re here. If he doesn’t want to lose you, he has some work to do. Now, will you give me a bite?” And that was how the evening passed with Taeyong. You were calm, relaxed and it was exactly how you imagined it to be. All you had to worry about for the time being was the first day of uni. 

You woke up the next morning and looked too pale to be human, as you had barely managed to sleep last night. You got dressed in one of your favorite outfits, a loose red shirt and black ripped jeans, and washed your face before putting some mascara and lipstick on. When Taeyong confirmed you looked hot, you were ready to go. Taeyong left you outside of the building of your first class and left for his class.

You went inside and found a seat not too close to the professor, and soon after, you noticed a tall guy approaching you and taking the seat next to you.

“First day, huh?” he asked you. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I’m kind of stressed too. What’s your name, by the way?”

“I’m Yugyeom. It’s nice to meet you.” He extended his arm to you for a handshake. 

“I’m Y/N.” And that was your first acquaintance. He seemed really nice. Kind, at least. You liked him at a first glance. He turned to speak to you quite a few times during our first class, but he didn’t annoy you. He was quite pleasant to be around. 

After a while, you heard someone enter the room, stumbling on the stairs. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” he said and took the seat next to you, on the opposite side of Yugyeom. “Was I too loud?” he whispered to you. 

“No, don’t worry about it. No one’s going to remember it tomorrow anyway,” you smiled at him. 

“I hope so. And, if they do, at least I made them laugh.” He smiled back. “I’m Chan.”

“I’m Y/N and this is Yugyeom,” you said and shook hands with him as well.

When the first class was over, you headed to the other classroom for the next period and sat next to the two boys you had just met. They were extremely fun to be with, especially Chan, who was a walking mess and extremely clumsy. 

You suggested going for coffee after class, so you texted Taeyong not to pick you up and walked next to Chan and Yugyeom, who knew a nice coffee shop around the corner. You found a table and sat down when you saw a guy approaching your table. 

“Hey, Yugyeom, wasn’t he sitting close to us in class?”

“Now that you mention it, yeah. Should we tell him to sit with us?” And, before you could even answer, Yugyeom was already standing up from his chair. “Hey! Wanna sit with us?”

“Uh, sure.”

“We saw you in class, we’re not creeps, I promise,” you reassured him. “This is Yugyeom and this is Chan.”

“I’m BamBam.”

“BamBam?” Chan asked. “Is it a nickname?”

“Yeah, I’m from Thailand and no one actually remembers my real name, so I use this one instead.”

“Oh, that’s so interesting!” Yugyeom was amazed and started talking to BamBam nonstop, which he didn’t seem to mind, so you just talked to Chan until Yugyeom’s rant ended.

“Would you like to order?” The waiter interrupted you. He was standing next to your table for a while, but no one had noticed him.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said and turned towards him, as he was standing beside you. That was when you noticed how hot he looked and, right after everyone ordered, you turned to Chan. “I don’t know if you’re gay, straight, or anything else, but that one was hot as fuck.”

“I’m bi, and yes he was. You should ask for his number.”

“Chan, I’m not that bold.”

“Yeah, but you have nothing to lose. Look, we can send you to pay when we’re done, so you can talk to him without us there. That doesn’t involve any flirting, right?”

“Fine. Give me your money, y’all.” The other two guys turned to you in shock, but Chan promised to explain while you were gone. So, you got up and walked towards the register. 

“Hi,” you told him. When he turned towards you, you deeply wished you hadn’t agreed to this. He was too handsome for you to handle.

“Ah, they sent you to pay?” He laughed.

“Yeah, they did.” You paused and contemplated if you should continue the conversation when your thoughts were interrupted.

“Um, I’m sorry if it’s weird to ask, but what’s your name.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“Ah, that’s a beautiful name. I’m Jonghyun. Do you happen to go to uni here?”

“Yeah, film major. This is my first year. What about you?”

“Me too! But I’m in the third year.” He smiled at you, but he was called to a table and had to go. “You should come by again tomorrow. I can treat you to a cup of warm coffee. My shift ends at 6.”

[dreaming-of-assclass]

Self-indulgent HC’s

🎀 Kanzaki constantly has freezing hands and feet, because of poor circulation. She accidentally brushes by others and they literally jolt from how cold she is. And to make things worse, she can be super mischievous and do it on purpose.

🎀 Okano is very badly near-sighted, but she hates wearing glasses. They’re uncomfortable, give her a headache, and most importantly, they get in the way of gymnastics. So she wears contacts all the time ^^

🎀 Sugino laughs at everything when he’s nervous, or even when he’s not. Even in situations where it’s inappropriate/unappreciated. This has gotten him into trouble way too many times lol.

🎀 Kanzaki has really bad anxiety that stems from an extreme sense of perfectionism. If she’s not at their top shape in what she’s doing, she’s very prone to giving up and just avoiding it all together. This is like the biggest reason why she fell down to Class E.

🎀 Nagisa hates using public restrooms. He often gets mistaken for a girl, and they’re just plain nasty inside. He’d rather be at risk of letting his bladder explode and hold it in than use it.

🎀 When he was a kid, Kimura always used to climb tall trees to get things for his brother. Like kites that got stuck, fruit, etc. It made him feel important, taking care of Brave.

🎀 Maehara has an awful bedhead that only Isogai has seen since they’ve had sleepovers. During the Okinawa trip, he purposely woke up early to style his hair so no one caught him.

🎀 For her birthday, Yoshida makes a custom helmet for Hara to wear whenever she’s riding with him on the motorcycle. It’s a soft peach color with painted wings and totally suits her.

🎀 Karma sleeps sprawled out like a starfish, no matter where he is. Bed, couch, floor, random rug, etc. He actually finds the position easier to be on guard in.

🎀 Okajima scribbles on his desk a lot when he’s bored during class. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it since he’s zoned out. Every time he does, Kataoka just annoyedly slams a bottle of cleaning spray and a rag in front of him.

🎀 Mimura’s mushroom hairstyle wasn’t his choice. He tried to trim his own hair in 2nd year, only for it end up disastrous. The only way the hairdresser could save it was by giving him the mushroom cut. (Poor baby was just trying to look like a movie star)

🎀 When he’s in the zone working on art, Sugaya often neglects his own needs like food, sleep, etc and works for hours on end. So he has a mini fridge and ramen cooker (gifted from his big sis) in his room to make quick meals and get some sustenance.

🎀 Okuda is always very cold at night, even under layers of blankets. So she wears a lot of pajama sets and they have the cutest designs. She has a hedgehog pattern, a lab beaker one, a cookie one, etc.

🎀 Irina thinks she’s hilarious when she pulls innocent pranks on Karasuma, like taking all their mugs and leaving them outside. He’s so tired of her.

🎀 Since he never has a club to go to, Terasaka often plays some street basketball after school with guys in his neighborhood. He really likes teaching little kids how to play, and he totally carries them on his shoulders so they can “dunk.”

🎀 Kayano stress-bakes, even after the reveal. It’s just like a coping mechanism for her. Group 4 knows not to bother her when they walk into her apartment and see a million trays of desserts on her counter.

🎀 Muramatsu is obsessed with sneakers and has a collection that he loves. He saves up what he wants from helping out the restaurant to buy them.

🎀 Ritsu adores K-Dramas and will always drag at least one of her classmates into watching one with her. She usually succeeds with pleading and making a puppy face. Her favorite victim is Takebayashi.

(If he objects, she’ll be like “Oh so you make me watch the same anime over and over again with you, but you won’t watch Crash Landing on You with me even though I know you understand Korean-!” “OK OK I’LL WATCH IT WITH YOU.” They’re besties <3)

[onlydreamofmysoul]

The Prize (Ficmas #3)

The gymnastics au is here!!!! I’d love to revisit sometime and make it a multi-chaptered thing but for now... here we go!!!!!!

(This one is just wolfstar, it’s not set in the SW or C2C worlds :))

Remus looked up from where he was chalking up his grips to see Sirius just beginning a run up on the track. He let his eyes follow the other man for a moment as he took a couple of powerful strides before launching himself into a series of flips and somersaults, sticking his landing beautifully.

“Damn,” Lily whistled from his side. “He’s looking good this year.”

Isn’t he always, Remus thought, but he didn’t say that of course. Instead he just nodded. “Yeah, he’ll be tough competition, that’s for sure.”

“At least you’ll be competing as a team as well as individually.” Lily pointed out. “So hey, guess you can use him.”

Remus smirked and rolled out his shoulders before walking back to his bar, jumping to catch it before pulling his body up and around in a circle so he could support himself with his arms while his waist rested against the bar.

“You better get back to A-bar before McGonagall comes to find you again.”

Lily shuddered. “Yeah, damn she’s already salty that I forgot my chalk, she’ll murder me if I stay here too long.”

Remus chuckled as she walked off before taking a breath to refocus himself and setting back to work. 

He was trying to perfect his dismount - a triple back tuck, but no matter what he was trying, he kept seeming to land on his ass. He grit his teeth, annoyed that his coach was missing today. He had a stand in of course, but the new kid Peter had never coached anyone at Remus’ level and was really just there to put safety mats in place when Remus needed them mid routine. He was just setting up the iPad to record (if no one was teaching him, then damn he would try to do it himself), when Sirius wandered up to his side.

“Want me to take a look?”

Remus nodded. “Please,” He glanced over at Peter, lowering his voice, “He’s nice and all but…”

“He doesn’t know shit.” Sirius finished and they both laughed. “Yeah I know, he was working with me a few days ago.”

Remus got back on the bar and immediately set into his rotations, ignoring his routine and just circling the bar a couple of times before his dismount. When he let go he tucked in tight, pulling his knees into his body as his chin tucked into his chest, tumbling once, twice, three times before… falling back on his arse.

He flopped back on the mat, covering his face with his forearm for a moment. “Ugh I swear this is gonna kill me.”

He could hear Sirius’ smirk, but he peeked at the other man anyway because damn, if he didn’t like that smile. “You’re actually pretty close.”

“Yeah?” He asked, standing up again. 

“Yeah, c’mere I recorded it so you can see.”

They stood much closer than polite societal rules would usually expect, Remus getting to use the excuse of watching the iPad. Remus watched himself on the screen, it started okay, his swings were good, he had enough power between them and then-

“Oh.” He said. “I’m letting go too early.”

Sirius grinned up at him. “Yeah! I wasn’t sure if you’d see it, but yeah that’s your issue. You only need to hold on maybe half a second later.”

Remus bit his lip, trying to figure out how the hell he would work that out. Time measurements were never quite his thing. Sirius seemed to get that though and instead pointed up at the ceiling. 

“You’re letting go here.” He said, pointing at a 45 degree angle. You need to let go when your toes point up there.” Moving his hand so his arm made more of a 60 degree shape. 

Remus nodded and smiled. “Yeah that makes more sense.” He chalked up his hands again and got back on the bar. He always liked dismounts. They had never been his strongest feature, but they were often his favourite. The feeling was about as close to flying as humans could come. He really focused as he swung this time, envisioning the place he’d let go with every rotation. On the fourth swing, he let go, feeling himself fly higher into the air than he ever had today. He tucked in, already knowing it was going to work before his feet landed on the mat, without even a little stumble. 

“Oh my god!” He exclaimed, beaming at Sirius. “Thank you!”

Sirius smiled and made a gesture that looked like he was going to run his fingers through his hair before realising his hair was tied up. “No bother.”

He glanced back at the track. “I should uh, probably get back.”

Remus smiled at him ruefully. “Probably. Hey, thanks again.”

Sirius winked at him cheekily. “Anytime.”

A week later Remus was just finishing on vault when Sirius came up. 

“Hey, do you mind if I join?”

Remus looked up at the sound of the other man’s voice and smiled. “Yeah of course. I’m just finished anyways so it’s all yours.”

Remus wasn’t sure if it was just him or if Sirius actually looked a little disappointed at that. 

“Oh yeah, cool.” He looked down and pointed at the springboard. “Mind if I change that?”

Remus shook his head. “Work away.”

Sirius grinned and grabbed the equipment, pulling it several inches closer to the vault. 

“Is that close enough for you?” Remus teased. 

Sirius looked up at him, a strand of hair falling in front of his eyes as he made sure the board was at the right measurement. “Oh fuck off, it’s not my fault you’re freakishly tall.”

“Hey, six foot two is not ‘freakishly tall’! You’re just freakishly short.” He protested. 

Sirius stood up, a good head shorter than Remus. “And five foot ten isn’t freakishly short.” He opposed, his bottom lip pouting slightly before he grinned again. 

“I suppose we’-”

“Oi Lupin!”

Remus winced at Moody’s summons. “I’d better go.” He laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Sirius’ eyes widened. “Yeah you do not want to get on Moody’s bad side. I accidentally made him tea instead of coffee once and I don’t think he’s forgiven me yet.”

Remus snorted a laugh. “That sounds about right.” He shuffled a little, not really wanting to leave. “He’s not too bad though.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah,” He looked across the gym and spotted his own coach, Arthur Weasly, making his way across to them. “I like my coach too.”

Remus followed his gaze and smiled. “Oh Weasly’s lovely, I’ve always liked him.”

“You do know I’m timing you, right Lupin?” Moody called and Remus’ eyes widened. 

“Fuck, see you later!” He half yelled as he ran off, Sirius laughing in the background.

Remus was stretching out his splits the next time Sirius found him. 

“Hey.” Sirius greeted as he slid into his right leg split next to Remus. 

Remus glanced over at him, eyeing the other man’s form. “Hi. You need to turn your back knee under more.”

Sirius did as instructed then winced. “Ouch, I can feel that stretch.”

Remus smirked. “Ha, sucks to be you.”

Sirius stuck out his tongue. “Oh fuck off, not all of us are naturally flexible.”

“Okay we both know you’re the power gymnast and I’m the flexible one.” Remus said as he twisted slightly to sit in his side splits. Sirius followed his motions so they were now face to face.

“You ready for regionals?” Sirius asked. 

Remus shrugged a shoulder. The regional competitions were two weeks away. “I suppose? As ready as I’ll ever be anyways. I’m not too sure about my pommel routine but I suppose there’s always something that’s not perfect.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, I hate the rings. I mean I like them, but they’re my least favourite.”

“It’ll be nice to compete again though.” Remus admitted. “I missed the last season with my injury.” He said, nodding to his taped knee. 

Sirius winced. “Yeah, how’s it doing?”

“Oh it’s fine now, I just like to keep it supported.” Sirius met Remus’ eyes. “Better safe than sorry, am I right?”

Sirius nodded seriously. “It was a dislocation right?” 

Remus nodded. “Yeah, but I damaged the ligament, that’s why it took so long to recover.”

“Fuck that’s a tough one.”

Remus nodded as they both twisted into their left leg splits. He reached back and patted his right knee fondly. 

“It’s okay now though.”

Sirius smiled softly. “It’s nice to have you back.”

A week before the regional competitions, Sirius found Remus in the locker room.

“Hey.” Sirius greeted, still in his shorts and a t-shirt while Remus was still shirtless after his shower, towel drying his hair. He peeked out at Sirius from under the white cloth before lowering his arms. 

“Hey.”

Sirius seemed to freeze for a moment, his eyes following Remus’ arms to where they rested by his side, his gaze snagging somewhere around Remus’ midsection. 

“Sirius?”

Sirius seemed to snap back into himself, shaking his head. “Shit sorry.” He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. “I uh, I zoned out for a second.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Did you need something?” He asked, amused as he shrugged on his shirt. 

Sirius blinked a few times before coming fully to his senses. “Oh yeah, right, yeah.” He blinked again and Remus had to bite back his laugh. “Are you staying overnight at regionals?”

Remus cocked his head. “They’re six hours away and we begin at six am. I’m staying the night before and the night of the competition.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah.” He breathed. “Me too, that’s what I’m doing.”

Remus waited a beat, but Sirius didn’t seem to have anymore to say. Remus put on his denim jacket, checking his watch - he had twenty minutes before he needed to be in class. 

“Okay well, if that’s it I’d better go - I have class in a bit.” He said, smiling at Sirius and beginning to move towards the door. 

“Wanna share a room?” Sirius blurted out just as Remus was opening the door. 

Remus froze, then turned to look at Sirius, his hand still resting on the door handle. 

“It’s uh, cheaper.” Sirius continued, rambling a little. “And I figured it might be easier? I don’t know, I don’t like going myself, plus it’s nice to spend time with your team and-”

“Yes.” Remus laughed, cutting Sirius off. “That sounds really good.”

Sirius’ eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

Remus nodded, smiling. “Yeah.” He glanced towards the door then looked back at Sirius. “I’ve gotta go now because I have a class, but I’ll text you and we can work it out?”

“Yeah.” Sirius breathed. “Text me.”

Remus smiled and went out the door, falling back against the wood the minute it had closed. Had that just happened? Was he really going to share a room with Sirius Black? This was quite possibly the worst decision he had ever made. 

(And yet his heart seemed convinced it was the best).

He glanced at his phone again. Fifteen minutes to get to campus. Remus cursed under his breath and ran out the door, he could think about this later. 

“Hey Re, can I get a lift up to regionals?” Lily asked as they ran around the floor warming up the next day. 

“Sure. Sirius is coming too.”

Lily side eyed him. “You’re giving Sirius a lift?”

Remus could feel his face reddening, and it wasn’t from the exercise. “Um, we’re kind of going to share a room.”

Lily stopped running and stared at him. Remus had to jog back a couple of paces to get back to her. 

“You’re sharing a room with Sirius?” She asked, her eyes wider than saucers. “What? How? When did this happen? How did I miss all this?”

“Maybe it was when you were off getting serenaded by that swimmer.” Remus teased, talking about James - Lily’s new boyfriend. “I’m just kidding. It wasn’t a big thing, we’re… friends now? Yeah I think we’re friends.”

“You’re sharing a room but you don’t know if you’re friends.” Lily deadpanned. “Remus Lupin you are a useless lump of a man.”

Remus burst out laughing as they began running again. “Hey, give me a break, I’m just glad I’ve been able to actually talk to him, believe me there were a few times where I barely even functioned.”

Lily gave him that knowing look again. “Oh I’m aware. It took you this fucking long to talk to him in the first place, and then he was the one to make the first move.”

“Okay you can't call it ‘the first move’, we’re not dating or anything.”

“Yet.” Lily snorted and Remus just rolled his eyes, smiling. “So, can James come up with us?”

“Ooh, your boyfriend’s coming to the competition huh?”

It was Lily’s turn to flush. “Hush.” She admonished. “Maybe I just want him to show the other ways my flexibility can come in handy.” She said, smirking. 

Remus wrinkled his nose. “Ew, imagery, Lily why would you do this to me.”

Lily jumped and kissed him on the cheek. At five foot one she was more than a foot shorter than him. “Cause I love ya.”

Remus smiled. “Love you too. And yeah, James can of course come too.”

“You’re the literal best, Remus Lupin.” Lily said seriously as they slowed down to stretch. “I’ll let him know. You know, I have this feeling he and Sirius are going to get along really well.”

Remus grinned at the image. He had only met James once or twice, but he knew what Lily meant. “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

James and Sirius got on so well Remus was half worried they would ditch Lily and Remus altogether and just ride off into the sunset. They arrived in the hotel lobby and Lily tucked herself under Remus’ arm sleepily for a moment as Sirius and James got the room keys. 

“This is really nice.” Lily sighed, looking at the boys fondly.

Remus had been surprised at how well everyone had melded together. It felt like they had always been friends. Platonic puzzle pieces. They had left fairly late - everyone needed to finish classes and work and they had driven in the dark. It was possibly the best road trip Remus had ever been on.

“Yeah.” He agreed, kissing the top of her head as the other two returned and the group split up, having rooms in different parts of the hotel. “Yeah, it is.”

“Which bed do you want?” Remus asked as he opened the door, his bag slipping off his shoulder awkwardly. 

“I don’t care.” Sirius replied, following Remus in, laughing as Remus struggled to adjust his bag and just flung it on the closest bed in defeat. 

“Guess this is mine then.” Sirius said, throwing himself on the second twin bed in the room. His hair was down and it fanned around his face like a satanic halo. Remus couldn’t look away. This had to be the worst idea he’d ever had.

“I am so tired.” He mumbled as he zipped open his suitcase, ignoring his gear to grab his pyjamas. 

“Me too.” Sirius agreed, standing up and kicking off his shoes before padding to the bathroom. The room was filled with the hum that always accompanied hotel bathrooms when the light was flicked on. Remus could hear Sirius shuffling around, brushing his teeth as Remus slipped into his pyjamas, sighing at the comfort they brought. Sirius came out of the bathroom and Remus took his turn washing up before flicking off the bathroom light. 

“Can I turn this off?” Remus asked, pointing to the main overhead light, Sirius already under the covers.

“Yeah go ahead.” Sirius said, his voice slow and honeyed with sleep. Remus flipped the switch and made his way to his bed in the dark, sinking under the covers, only just remembering to set his alarm for the morning before he let sleep take hold of him. 

“G’night Sirius.” He mumbled. He was asleep before he even heard a reply.

Remus didn’t see much of Sirius the day of the competition, bar when they woke up in the morning. But they had both been quiet, readying themselves for the day. They both had their routines and they worked around each other in sync. Remus had never gotten on with someone so seamlessly aside from Lily. 

Sirius bit his lip before they left the hotel room, looking like he wanted to say something. 

“Remus?” 

Remus had paused where he was tying his shoes, his tracksuit immaculate. “Yeah?”

Sirius seemed to battle with something in his head for a moment before letting it drop. “Good luck today.”

Remus smiled at him. “Thanks.” He breathed. “You too.”

“See you on the podium?” Sirius teased. 

Remus raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be the one in the middle.”

Sirius had been right, they did see each other on the podium. Sirius was the one in the middle though, Remus at his side winning the silver medal. 

“Well if it isn’t the golden boy.” Remus muttered under his breath as they smiled for the cameras. Sirius burst out laughing next to him, much to the confusion of the bronze medallist. 

“Told you so.”

“I suppose you did. The winner of more than one thing today.”

“Do I get a prize?” Sirius asked and Remus’ heart stuttered. It almost seemed… Flirty. 

“What do you call that big heavy thing around your neck?” He retaliated, smiling one more time before they were allowed down from the podium. 

Sirius smirked at him. “Validation.”

They all went out for dinner that night, celebrating a series of medals - Lily looking dazzling with another gold medal. 

“Aw look at poor Remus.” She and Sirius teased. “What’s it like so far down?”

Remus looked down at her, still miles beneath him even in heels. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

James choked on his drink as he laughed and Sirius cracked up beside him. They didn’t stay out late - they were all exhausted so as soon as they had dinner they all retreated back to their rooms.

“Onto nationals next.” Remus commented as he and Sirius strolled down their corridor after exiting the elevator. “Think we’ll make the team?”

Sirius didn’t have to ask what team. There was only one Remus could possibly be talking about, they all only had one goal in mind at this level - the Olympics.

“I really fucking hope so.” Sirius admitted, then bumped his hip against Remus’. “It’s looking good so far.”

Remus smiled and unlocked their door. “I suppose it is.”

They filed into their room, taking a moment to move their stuff from where they had been flung on the beds in the chaos that had been them trying to get changed quickly for dinner. 

“I still don’t have a prize.” Sirius said, his voice a little shaky.

Remus glanced up, his bed now clear. “Well, you never said what you wanted.”

Sirius flopped back on his bed, covering his face with his forearm. Remus couldn’t help but think of the first time Sirius had helped him - Remus had been in the same position. 

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to, but it would seem you don’t do well with subtlety.”

Remus huffed a laugh. “My sincerest apologies.” He said, a little sarcastically before throwing caution to the wind and lying down on Sirius’ bed next to him. 

“What is it you want?” He asked, his voice soft in a way he had never heard it before. 

Sirius moved his arm so Remus could see gorgeous grey, surrounded by those long, dark eyelashes. 

“I want you to kiss me.”

Remus froze. Sirius wanted Remus to kiss him. Remus. Remus Lupin. Kiss Sirius Black. He was fairly sure his brain had short circuited. 

Remus must have frozen for too long, because Sirius sat up, swallowing as he moved away. “Um, sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I thought-”

Remus caught his wrist gently, his long fingers circling it completely. 

“Please never try to be subtle again.” He said, as he pulled Sirius down to his level. Chest to chest, they stared at each other for a moment, both of them barely breathing. 

“Wait.” Sirius croaked. “You mean-”

Remus didn’t let him finish, kissing him instead. All he could think was that this was what had been missing from his life. Sirius’ soft lips against his, Remus caressing that ridiculously silky hair as Sirius melted into him. 

Sirius pulled away for a moment to readjust himself - his arm had begun trembling under his weight, so Remus rolled them over, hovering over Sirius so he could kiss him sweetly. 

“I hope you like your prize.” He muttered and Sirius laughed against his lips before wrapping his arms around Remus’ waist and pulling him closer. 

“God yes.”

[deja-you]

ten ways to say (i love you)

t. jefferson x reader

summary: Thomas has never liked the conventional way of saying ‘I love you.’

word count: 6.1k

warnings: a little bit of angst, high school, karen

masterlist

1.

There is no better way to start off senior year than arriving late to your first class.

In Y/n’s defense, she had left her house early. For once in her life she was actually going to be early to school. She was so proud of herself, and was so certain that she had extra time, Y/n allowed herself to stop at a drive thru and pick up a drink as a reward. Everything was going according to plan. 

That is, until the Karen in the car in front of her decided she wasn’t pleased with her order and made the barista redo it. To make sure she didn’t mess up Karen’s order a second time, the barista was extra careful. And extra slow. Y/n groaned as she watched the time tick by minute by minute. Just her luck.

Y/n watched the barista hand the drink to the Karen and breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, Karen’s car didn’t move. She had her drink, but Karen continued to talk with the barista. Y/n cursed under her breath and banged her head on the steering wheel. She must have been more aggressive than she was expecting, because she accidentally honked her horn. 

She jumped back in shock at the loud noise. Karen poked her head out of her window and immediately began lecturing Y/n on how rude she was being. At least, that’s what Y/n assumed she was saying, she really couldn’t hear the Karen with her windows rolled up. Y/n bit her lip, gave the Karen a little wave, and mouthed an apology.

Eventually Karen had finished her rant and left the drive thru. Y/n got her drink, no longer a reward, more like a consolation now, and sped to school. There weren’t any other students in the parking lot by the time Y/n arrived, remind her of just how late she was. Y/n shoved all her materials in her backpack, locked her car, and quickly walked into the building. 

Of course, Y/n’s first class just had to be with Mr. Rousseau. Any other teacher would just let her tardiness slide. She opened the door to Mr. Rousseau’s classroom, and any conversation that was being had stopped. More than a dozen pairs of eyes turned their attention to her, and Y/n wanted to melt right there and then.

“Miss L/n, nice of you to join us.” Mr. Rousseau addressed her. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning against his desk as he sized her up. “If you’re done being a distraction to my class, I’d appreciate it if you would take a seat.”

Y/n swallowed roughly, and nodded. Rousseau went back to lecturing the class on how his class would be run, and Y/n did her best to find a seat as quietly as she could. She instinctively made her way over to where her best friends, Abigail and Thomas were sitting. 

Thomas moved his backpack off the desk next to him, and mouthed, “I saved you a seat.”

She gave him a grateful smile and mouthed back a ‘thanks.’ 

Abigail leaned forward and whispered, “Mr. Rousseau wasn’t very amused with you being late, huh?”

“I swear he hates me,” Y/n insisted. 

Thomas rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t hate you, hon’.”

“Thomas is right,” Abigail said. “Mr. Rousseau doesn’t hate you especially. Everyone knows he just hates women.”

2.

Late night study session was code for hanging out at John Adams’s house and messing around.

Abigail was dating John, so Y/n was friends with him and his friends by association. Abigail, Dolly, and Y/n were actually trying to study. John and James were discussing the football team’s chances of winning their next game. Martha and George had snuck off to get freaky somewhere. 

“Okay, Dolly.” Abigail held up a flash card. “What can you tell me about the defenestration of Prague?”

“Um, people were thrown out of windows for fun?” Dolly replied lazily. 

“No. Well, I guess you’re not completely wrong...”

Y/n threw her body against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. If she had to stay here any longer, Y/n would throw herself out a window. Not that she didn’t want to hangout with her friends. After a long day of school, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to spend more time with the people she spent the whole day with. If it wasn’t for her fragile social status, Y/n would have already been home in her bed right now.

“Sorry m’late, had to drop my sister off at a gymnastics class. Or fencing. Or Italian. Honestly, I can’t remember.” Thomas walked into the living room where everyone was hanging out.

“Ah, yes. I had almost forgot that the Jeffersons are all overachievers,” Y/n said with and eye roll. 

He wore an easy grin as he made his way over to Y/n, leaning against the couch and staring down at her. “What can I say? We’re just built different.”

Y/n scoffed but refused to dignify him with any further response. Instead, she closed her eyes again, pretending she was back at home under warm covers. 

“I brought you food.” 

This caught Y/n’s attention. She slowly opened one eye to see if he was telling the truth. Thomas held up a bag of fast food he must’ve picked up on his way over. Y/n couldn’t help but smile as she sat upright.

“For me?” She asked.

“Of course, hon’.” He handed her the bag. “I know you didn’t have time for lunch today, and I know you likely wouldn’t have gotten around to eating anything yet.”

Y/n happily pulled out an order of large fries out of the bag. “Have I ever told you how amazing you are, Thomas?”

“Not often enough.”

“Well. You are amazing. So amazing.”

Y/n finished her fries and was looking through the rest of the bag to see what else he had gotten her when John called out to her. 

“Hey, Y/n,” John said, “what are your thoughts on my cousin?”

“You mean Sam Adams?” Y/n asked. 

“Yep. The very one.”

She shrugged. “He’s cute. Why?”

“He thinks you’re cute. Wanted me to ask if you’re single,” John said nonchalantly. 

Abigail took time away from quizzing Dolly to get invested in the conversation. “She’s very single. Right, Y/n? You and Sam would be so cute together!”

Y/n could feel her cheeks begin to heat up, and she suddenly found the hardwood floors very interesting. “I don’t know... he really thinks I’m cute?”

“S’what he said,” John replied. “Can I give him your number?”

She weighed her options before giving a shrug. “Yeah, why not?”

“Y/n and Sam? I totally ship it,” Dolly said.

“Right?” Abigail grinned. “They’re going to be such an attractive couple.”

“Okay, can we stop talking about this now? I’m here to study,” Y/n insisted, pulling out a textbook.

“I’d rather not fail tomorrow’s test,” Thomas agreed.

Everyone begrudgingly went back to their previous activities, and Thomas took that moment to sit next to Y/n on the couch. She was flipping through the pages of her textbook before she came to a stop. Y/n passed the textbook to Thomas and pointed to the painting on the page.

“Look, this one’s my favorite,” she said.

“Wanderer above the Sea of Fog,” Thomas read. “You’re a fan of Caspar David Friedrich, then?”

Y/n shrugged. “I’m just a fan of the Romantic movement in general. Everything was just so creative, and beautiful, and emotional. There’s just so much feeling in this painting. It’s overwhelming.”

Thomas frowned looking back at the painting, and then back to Y/n. “It certainly is romantic.”

She gave the painting one last look before she began flipping through the pages of the textbook again. Thomas watched her curiously as she read over the vocabulary words for that week. Finally, he decided to say what was on his mind. 

“So, you and Sam Adams, huh?” He nudged her gently with his shoulder.

Y/n bit her lip and focused on a peculiar tchotchke the Mrs. Adams had decorated the living room with. “I guess. I used to have a crush on him in middle school, remember?”

“That’s right. Abbie and I spent most of science class teasin’ you about that. No wonder you’re so bad at physics now.”

She frowned and playfully bumped her shoulder with his. “I’m not bad at physics.”

“Really?” Thomas considered her with eyebrows raised. “Remember that botched science experiment that nearly killed Mr. Newton?”

“Can we not talk about that? He’s still alive, isn’t he?”

He hid an amused look. “Whatever you say, honey.”

3.

You’re tired. The sheets are too hot. It’s been a long day, your body is exhausted. The air in your bedroom is too cold. Your mind is tired, too. The sheets are too hot. If you just close your eyes and stop thinking you’ll be asleep in minutes. The air in your bedroom is too cold. Not thinking isn’t exactly easy. The sheets are too hot. Go then if you must, but remember, no matter how -- damn you, Sophocles, and your terribly beautiful words. 

Thomas threw his covers off his body and sat up in bed. He wasn’t going to get much sleep no matter how hard he tried. Thomas rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, if there had been any sleep to begin with. 

There was no doubt that he was tired mentally and physically. Emotionally? His heart was eternally restless. He crossed his room to sit at his desk, fully accepting that sleep wasn’t a viable option anymore. 

The blue light from his computer was a harsh contrast to the darkness of his room, but his eyes adjusted quickly. Thomas didn’t even know what he was doing on his computer in the middle of the night.

His fingers knew. They opened up an application and began scrolling. No, no, no, yes. Perfect. No, no, no, no, no, yes. This is her. And this went on for an hour or so, Thomas lost track of time. He’d be tired tomorrow, but he wasn’t going to get any sleep until he was finished. 

When he actually was finished, he smiled contentedly to himself. A wave of calm washed over him, and before he knew it, Thomas was back in his bed falling asleep. 

He looked terrible the next morning. Well, as terrible as a Jefferson could look. He had still had the sense to dress nicely, collared shirt, sweater, ironed pants, polished dressed shoes. Thomas was still sharp as ever in all his classes, but anyone who really knew him could tell he was a mess. 

“You okay, Thomas?” Y/n asked at lunch in Mr. Locke’s classroom (Mr. Locke was kind enough to let a group of moody teenagers eat lunch in his class, the lunchroom just wasn’t cool enough for them).

“Hm? Yeah. I’m great.”

Y/n cocked her head to the side. “You sure? You seem tired.”

“Don’t worry about me. Actually, I have something for you.” Thomas fished his phone out of his pocket.

“You have something for me?”

“Yeah, I’m sending it now. Check your phone.”

She raised an eyebrow, but Y/n opened up her phone to check the text Thomas had sent her. 

“Sophocles and Serotonin.” Y/n read aloud. “What is this?”

“I made you a playlist of songs I thought you might like.”

“Seriously?” A smile played on her lips; Thomas couldn’t help but reflect it. “When did you have the time for this?”

He shrugged. “I have more free time than you’d think.”

“With all your APs, varsity sport, and extracurriculars? I highly doubt that.” Y/n looked up at him, a teasing lilt transparent in her tone. “I appreciate the playlist even more, knowing you took time out of your rigorous schedule to create it. Thanks, Thomas.”

She leaned forward on the desk she was seated on to press a kiss to his cheek. Thomas froze like a deer in headlights, and if Y/n noticed, she didn’t say anything. He put himself back together before she could notice he was momentarily put-off, and leaned back against another desk in an attempt to look cool.

“S’what do you have planned for after school?” He asked in his best nonchalant voice. 

“Well, Sam and I are going to go see a movie.”

“That’s still a thing, then?”

Y/n shot him a look that had him raising his hands up in surrender. “Yes, it’s still a thing. I really like him, okay? He’s a good guy.”

“But is he good enough for you?” Thomas crossed his arms, his eyes not leaving her’s. It wasn’t that Thomas didn’t like Sam. Sam was great. It was just a fact that no guy would ever be good enough for his best friend. 

“He is.” She said with an eye roll. “Why do you care anyway?”

“Hon’, I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Oh trust me, I know.”

4.

Summer had felt like an eternity ago, when in reality, it had been less than two months ago. The yellow leaves and the updated fall Starbucks menu were enough to convince anyone that it had always been October. 

It had taken a lot of convincing and a little bit of bribery to convince Thomas to attend the Homecoming football game, but with the assistance from Abigail, Y/n had eventually gotten Thomas to cave. She wanted him there, but more importantly, she wanted him to give her a ride there. 

Of course she could have taken her own car, but Y/n would rather not waste her own gas when she could use Thomas’s instead. It’s not like it mattered to him, his parents paid for his car, insurance, and gas anyway. Plus, his Mercedes Benz had a seat warming function that Y/n couldn’t get enough of. 

She spent most of the ride over to the stadium raving over his seat warmers, and Thomas spent most of the ride making fun of how excited she was about seat warmers. Eventually, they parked outside of the stadium, and Thomas paid for their entrance fee into the stadium.

“It’s co--” before Y/n could finish her sentence, remarking on the obvious cold weather, Thomas had handed her a sweatshirt. She looked down at the maroon sweatshirt, then back at Thomas, her mouth slightly open. “You brought an extra sweatshirt for me? I didn’t even ask.”

“You didn’t have to ask,” he shrugged. She put on the sweatshirt and stared at him with wide eyes. Thomas glanced at, bit the inside of his lip, and shook his head. “Now, don’t go thinking I care about you or somethin’ like that, hon’. Couldn’t have you taking the sweatshirt I’m wearing, then I’d be cold.”

She looked at him with a smug smile on her face that made him regret bringing her the sweatshirt in the first place. “Yeah? Is that all?”

“Yes, that’s all.” He was doing his best to act annoyed by all her questioning, but he couldn’t help but find it endearing. When he came up with another argument, he added on, “besides, ma would be upset with if she knew I let you freeze. It seems like she loves you more than she loves me sometimes.”

“That’s because she does,” Y/n pointed it out like it was obvious. “Can you blame her? I’m funny and adorable. You’re just a grumpy old man I have to drag to football games.”

“That’s it. Give the sweatshirt back. I hope you freeze.” Thomas was giving her the dirtiest look he could muster. Y/n had the audacity to throw her head back and laugh.

She reached into her purse, and after some digging around, she pulled out a five dollar bill from her wallet. Y/n thrusted the money into Thomas’s hand and pushed him in the direction of the concession stand. “Here. Go get us some popcorn, maybe you won’t be so irritable once you get some food in you. I’m going to go find some seats.”

Thomas grumbled something about “not being irritable” but nonetheless ventured off toward the concessions. Y/n climbed the steps up the stadium and immediately found Abigail sitting in the student section, all decked out in school colors and face paint. Abigail greeted Y/n with a warm hung, then holding her at an arms length, she took note of what her best friend was wearing.

“Is that Thomas’s sweatshirt?” Abigail asked.

Y/n looked down at the the University of Virginia sweatshirt she had wrapped around herself. “Hm? Oh yeah, it is.”

Abigail pursed her lips and mulled over this new information. “What’s going on between you and Thomas?”

“What d’ya mean? We’re friends.” Y/n pursed her lips. 

“And Thomas knows that?” Abigail observed Y/n. “Do you know that?”

Y/n narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Yes, of course I know that. I’m dating Sam now, okay? Thomas and I have always just been friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be.”

Abigail held her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. If you say so, I’ll believe you. I just don’t want any feelings to get hurt between the two of you.”

“There are no feelings between the two of us,” Y/n said, but she wouldn’t stop thinking about Abigail’s words for the rest of the night.

5.

All week, Thomas had dreamt about the mint chocolate chip ice cream that was waiting for him in the freezer. 

It was his favorite flavor, and there was just enough left in the carton for one last bowl. He had promised himself he wouldn’t eat the last of it until he had really deserved it. After spending a productive hour studying for the test he had tomorrow, Thomas decided he had finally earned that delectable bowl of artificially colored green ice cream. 

He made his way to the kitchen, humming an upbeat tune and sliding across the hardwood floor in his socks. Thomas had made it all the way to the freezer when there was a knock at the front door. 

Thomas paused. He was so close to getting his ice cream. Maybe it was just a delivery? He debated answering the bowl or ignoring and continuing to dish himself ice cream. Thomas was leaning toward his bowl of ice cream when there was a knock at the door again. With a scowl on his face, he abandoned the fridge and any hope for happiness he had left and made his way to the front door.

“Y/n?” He said in surprise when he opened the door.

“Hi, Thomas. I didn’t know who else to come to. Abigail’s out with John right now. Dolly and Martha aren’t good in situations like this,” she was speaking quickly, sniffling between sentences, and trying not to let any more tears fall down her cheeks. “I just--”

He interrupted Y/n by pulling her into his house and his arms. Y/n melted into his touch, her hands gripping his shirt as she hugged him back. 

“What happened?” Thomas asked softly, rubbing circles into her back with his thumbs.

“Sam and I broke up.”

Thomas sighed softly and rested his chin on her head. He bit his lip, weighed his options, and came to a reluctant conclusion. Thomas pulled away just enough that he could look Y/n in her bloodshot eyes.

“I think this is the part where we break out the ice cream, huh?”

She offered him a miserable smile. “Ice cream couldn’t hurt.”

He led her to his kitchen and began digging through the kitchen while she hopped onto the counter to sit. Thomas hid a frown from Y/n while in the process of pulling out the nearly empty carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream. 

“So you want to tell me what happened?” Thomas asked, pulling out a bowl from one of the cabinets.

“It wasn’t a bad breakup.” Despite her words, Y/n still wiped at her tears with the sleeves of her shirt. “We mutually agreed it was best for both of us.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “He’s just not... he’s not the one.”

Thomas felt something twist and turn in his stomach, but he knew it wouldn’t be right to be happy when his friend was so miserable. He did his best to hide the smile that wanted to form in the corners of his mouth. “M’sorry about that, honey.”

“I know it was the right decision,” she said, staring up at the ceiling in an attempt not to let any more tears stream down her face. “Doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though.”

“It’s normal to be upset after a break up,” Thomas shrugged.  

“You’re not going to have any ice cream?” Y/n asked quietly as he handed her a singular bowl.

“Not in the mood for it,” he lied. 

6.

“You get enough sleep last night, hon’?”

Y/n was in mid-yawn when he asked her the question. She held a hand over her mouth and nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

“You look terrible.”

She scowled at him. “Wow. Just what a girl wants to hear. Anyone ever tell you you’re a charmer, Thomas Jefferson?”

“You’d be surprised.” He gave her a teasing smile. “So who’s the cause for your sleepless nights?”

“Napoleon Bonaparte.” She held up her textbook for him to see. “Why’d I ever let you convince me to take an AP class with you?”

“Because you like spending time with me?”

“Nah, that’s not it.”

“Ouch.” Thomas held a hand over his heart. “You really stayed up late studying for the quiz?”

“Some people have to study, okay? Not everyone’s as gifted as Thomas flippin’ Jefferson.”

“Flippin’?” He stifled a laugh.

“We’re at school. Gotta keep it PG, right?” She shrugged. “So yeah, I stay up and study sometimes. High schoolers aren’t supposed to get a good amount of sleep. S’not a big deal.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I worry about you.”

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a small smile. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Believe me, if I could just shut it off, I would. I’ll make you a Quizlet next time so you can get more sleep.”

Y/n was about to say something in response when her phone began ringing in her pocket. “I should get this.”

She went out into the hallway to answer the call, and Thomas turned back to his lunch, not even bothering to hide his smile. 

“Thomas.”

He jumped at the sound of a voice and turned to see Abigail sitting at the desk across from him. Had she been listening to them the whole time? Thomas had completely forgotten she was there; a fact he would be certain not to share with her.

“Yes, Abbie?”

“Do you have a crush on Y/n?” 

Thomas blinked a few times, certain that he hadn’t heard Abigail right. “Excuse me?”

Abigail rolled her eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You heard me right, Jefferson. Do you have a crush on Y/n?”

“Y/n? Where’d you get that idea?” Thomas made a face like he was disgusted by the very thought of it.

“Oh, I don’t know. You’re always following her around and doing whatever it takes to make her happy. Not to mention you always call her “hon’,” seems pretty affectionate to me.” Abigail had a talent for laying out the facts.

“We’ve been friends since I can remember, of course I care about her. So what if I have a nickname for her? Doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s not like you have a nickname for anyone else.”

“I call you ‘Abbie’. I have a nickname for everyone.”

“We both know that’s a load of B.S. Are you really telling me you don’t like Y/n?”

“I don’t like Y/n.” And it wasn’t exactly a lie, because the feelings he had for Y/n had progressed far beyond liking. 

7.

“There’s nothing people appreciate more than a hand-made gift, right?” Y/n said, pulling out a ball of azure colored yarn.

Thomas crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against a wall. “Sure, ‘cept maybe a nice Rolex or a new car.”

She scowled at him. “I don’t know what it is about me that makes you think I can afford a Rolex or a new car. I’m an unemployed high school student. My only income comes from birthday cards from my grandparents.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I’m sure Abigail will love the scarf you make for her.”

“Yeah, how hard could it be?” Y/n muttered, staring at the mess of strings in her lap.

Thomas’s eyes widened a little. “You telling me you’ve never crocheted before?”

“How hard could it be?” She pulled up a beginners guide on YouTube, and five minutes later, Y/n had a knotted pile of yarn in her hands. She huffed in frustration and began to aggressively pull at the yarn.

“Let me help.”

“You know how to knit?” Y/n raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

Thomas rolled his eyes, sitting next to her and taking the “scarf” out of her hands. “This is crocheting. You don’t even have knitting needles.”

“Apologies. You know how to crochet?” 

“Lucy went through a stage where she was really into crocheting,” he shrugged. Thomas had quickly untangled Y/n’s “progress” and began to expertly thread together loops of yarn. He held up his work to her once a pattern had begun to form. “See? Perks of growing up with sisters.”

“I hate that you’re good at everything.” 

He snorted and gently began to move the work into Y/n’s hand for her to finish the rest. “’M’not good at everything. Just most things.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Y/n was now laser focused on the project in front of her, determined to get it right this time. Thomas would advise her, but for the most part he let her work on it by herself. She was a fast learner.

“You’re never going to get it like that, hon--” Thomas caught himself, remembering the conversation he had had with Abigail earlier. “Y/n. You’re never going to get it like that, Y/n.”

She looked up at him with furrowed brows. “What?”

He swallowed roughly and shook his head. “It’s nothing. Just... You’re going to want to pull the yarn tighter or it’s all going to unravel later.”

“Oh. Thanks, Thomas.”

8.

It was 2 a.m., and Y/n had already came to terms with the fact that she wasn’t going to get more than five hours of sleep. She wasn’t exactly trying very hard to sleep. She had tried to refresh her Instagram feed maybe a dozen times now, but it wasn’t like anyone was posting in the middle of the night. Instagram was doing a poor job keeping her mind distracted. 

Lightly biting her bottom lip, she threw her body back onto her bed with a loud sigh. She wrinkled her nose and caved, navigating to the facetime app on her phone. Hesitating one last time, Y/n tapped his contact with her thumb. Her phone began to hum while she waited for him to pick up.

“Hey, Thomas. I know it’s late,” she said when he finally answered the phone. Y/n frowned when she saw him rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, no. Couldn’t sleep anyway,” replied his groggy voice.

“You’re lying. Hey, don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep.”

“I was already up.”

“No, you weren’t. Don’t let me bother you.”

Thomas stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at Y/n firmly through the camera. “Maybe I was asleep, but I’m up now, yeah? Don’t worry about waking me up. I’d rather talk to you any way.”

Y/n pursed her lips, giving him a doubtful look. Thomas was too polite to ever tell someone if they were bothering him. She couldn’t tell if he really wanted to talk to her, or if he was just too courteous to tell her otherwise. 

He noticed the look she gave him and rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” 

“Like you don’t believe me. Would’ve stopped bein’ friends with you years ago if I didn’t find all your annoying habits endearing. Promise.” Thomas shot her a smug smile that made her wish she hadn’t called. 

“So kind of you,” she said sarcastically. 

“I try.” His grin widened, if that was even possible. “So what’d you want to talk to me about?”

Y/n chewed on her bottom lip and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t?” Thomas narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer to the camera. After he had examined her carefully, he leaned back and crossed his arms. “Yeah you do. What is it?”

She shifted, uncomfortable by how easy it was for him to see right through her. Once more that night, she caved. “I can’t stop thinking about how you called me ‘Y/n’ earlier today?”

He tensed up but the action was barely noticeable. “What about it? It’s your name.”

“Sure,” she nodded, “but you never call me ‘Y/n.” It’s always ‘hon’’ or ‘honey.’ Always. Did something happen? Are you mad at me?”

Thomas raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “No, ‘course not. Everything’s fine.” He paused. “That really upset you? Me calling you ‘Y/n’?”

“It’s just not normal.”

“It’s not normal for people to call you by your name?”

“It is, but you are supposed to call me ‘honey.’ Okay?”

He laughed through his nose and couldn’t stop an amused smile from spreading on his lips. “Okay, honey.”

9.

“I’m finally going to get to see your mural, then?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “It’s not my mural, Y/n. It’s the senior mural. It’s not like I’m painting it.”

“Yeah, but it was your idea.” She gave him a playful nudge. “I don’t know why you haven’t told me what it is yet. I’m sure if the great Thomas Jefferson designed it, it’ll be the best Senior mural ever seen at Charlottesville High School.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, hon’. I’d hate to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re Thomas Jefferson.”

They turned the corner to see their fellow senior, Henrietta Johnston, working on the mural. The previously beige wall was now covered in black, gray, and light blue paint. In the middle of the painting was a figure made up of colorful hand prints standing above the blue-gray sea.

Y/n stared at the mural with an open mouth. She looked from Henrietta to Thomas, then back to the wall in front of her.

“It was my idea to make the figure all colorful with handprints,” Thomas said. “Thought it would be nice to let our class to literally leave a mark on this school.”

Henrietta smiled at the mural and set down her paintbrush. “It was a good idea. The splash of color is just what it needed. What do you think, Y/n? Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it. It’s... it’s perfect.” She turned to Thomas with wide eyes. “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog. This is my favorite painting.”

“I noticed -- don’t give me that look. It’s not like I care that much. You just never shut up about that painting. It’s annoying, really,” Thomas muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at the ground.

She smiled and turned her attention back to the mural. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love this. I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course. It’s worth it, seeing how much you like it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“You’re the kind of person I could fall in love with, you know that?” She didn’t take her eyes off the painting, and Thomas was glad. 

Maybe if she had looked at him, she would have seen his breath catch in his throat and his eyes widen just a little bit. If he was the kind of person she could fall in love with, then why didn’t she? Thomas was flustered. If Y/n had noticed his lack of response, she didn’t say anything. 

10.

Charlottesville High School was filled with rich kids. The Charlottesville High School debate team had a minimal amount of members. These factors resulted in Thomas and Y/n having their own hotel rooms when they attended a debate function in Washington D.C.

After a long day of debating, Thomas and Y/n walked side by side down the narrow corridor to their respective rooms. Every now and then, they spared looks at each other when they thought the other wouldn’t notice.

Thomas cleared his throat. “So that guy in the green shirt asked me for your number.”

She glanced up at him. “He did? Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Thought he was out of your league. Told him you snored like an ogre and I gave him Maria’s number instead,” he said with a shrug.

She gasped and shoved his shoulder. “Are you kidding me? I don’t snore like an ogre! He was cute and interested in me.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

Y/n scowled. “For your information, I’m adorable. I’m funny and enjoyable to be around. Even if I ‘snore like an ogre’ I’m also extremely attractive, so it makes up for it.”

“You don’t need to sell me on reasons why you’re dateable, honey,” he chuckled softly.

“Oh yeah?”

At the same time, Y/n and Thomas turned to face each other. Their teasing banter stopped when they realized they were only inches apart, he could hear every inhale and exhale. His eyes flicked to her lips. It was only for a second, but she hadn’t missed it. 

Thomas took a step back and cleared his throat. “It’s late, we should go to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she echoed. They both hurriedly stepped into their own rooms. 

Had he almost kissed her? Did that really just happen? Y/n leaned against her hotel room door. Maybe she had just imagined it. She shook her head and grabbed a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts out of her suitcase. Maybe Y/n could stop thinking about it after a good nights rest. She changed and was about to brush her teeth when she felt some kind of nagging feeling inside.

It was naïve to think she was going to get any sleep tonight if she didn’t confront Thomas about it. Y/n set down her toothbrush and made her way out into the fluorescent lit hallway. She had made it all the way to his door when she paused.

Is this really what she wanted to do? If Y/n brought up their almost-kiss, would they be able to go back to friends? Did she even want to go back to friends? Y/n bit her lip and glanced back at her own room door. She should just go to bed, it wasn’t worth putting their friendship in jeopardy. But then again, Y/n would always wonder what could have happened if she didn’t confront him.

She raised her fist to knock on Thomas’s door, but before she could knock, the door swung open. Thomas and Y/n once more stood face to face. She had a wide eyed expression that mirrored Thomas’s.

There was an accelerated heartbeat. A flutter. Thomas’s arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Y/n’s hand found its place on the back of his neck and guided his lips to her’s. His eyes were half open, sneaking glances at her to assure himself he wasn’t dreaming. Her overwhelming scent and the feeling of his hands threaded through her hair was all too real. 

Thomas pulled her into his room, kicking the door closed behind them. Placing both hands on his broad chest, she pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. 

Thoughts were racing in Y/n’s mind. She tried to put reason to the way he gripped her waist tightly -- there would be bruises there the next day. She tried to put reason to the way his pupils dilated as she went in for another kiss. Y/n came up empty handed.

There was no way Y/n felt the same way, Thomas told himself. There was no way she loved him the way he loved her. For as long as he could remember, he had been in love with Y/n L/n. And for as long as he could remember, she had only seen him as her best friend.

Thomas missed the warmth of her lips when she pulled away, but he couldn’t help but admire the way her lips were swollen and her hair was a mess. Her bright eyes, and the way light highlighted the softness of her skin. Thomas took that moment to memorize every line and curve of her face, branding the memory into his head. 

She leaned in to kiss him again, but he pushed her away this time, sitting up. “Stop. We... we can’t do this. This can’t just be a one time thing.”

“Why not?” Her voice was quiet and delicate.

He felt his heart twist inside his chest and he clenched his jaw. “Because I love you.”

[gundhams-pandemonium]

Maybe tell us about how my girl Celeste is doing in your talentswap AU? And also Byakuya... + bonus if you feel like it: talk about the character you think got the most funny/ironic talent.

Ooo! These two are intresting! [Also, never too much. I'm currently trying to procrastinate on other things so I enjoy these immensely! Thank you for the ask <3]

Celeste: Shsl Team Manager

*What better way to get some one motivated to train then have an angry goth lolita run at them?

*She wears her drills out when among people, but takes them off if training someone. Also her outfits asthetic hasnt changed much however, it's much easier to walk/run in it

*She is still very money driven, and the teams she works for pays a hefty price to have her as the manager

*While she is focused on individuals, she also sees teams as a whole and keeps records of everyone's stats. She tells those who are falling behind, and doesn't sugar coat that if they continue to fail she'll talk to the coach about cutting them from the team. At the same time, if you pay for her individual lessons you are less likely to be cut~

*She insists she doesn't get attached to people, But to her class she gives "free" lessons (free in that they dont pay money, she has those who got the lessons "1 hour service times" where they must pamper her )

*Actually new Makoto before the killing game, because she worked for a rival gymnast team for a short while. She spoke to him privately about how much potential he had, but he had said he was too busy to have private lessons with her on top of what she was doing.

Togami: Shsl Prince

*not... much has changed. He still thinks he above others, his family is still powerful and wealthy, cold cases fascinate him, and he is extremely intelligent

*He knows how to fense and horse ride [He spars with Chihiro (shsl swordsperson)!]

*His clothes are... underwhelming. He despises people thinking he'd wear something like a medieval prince would (he reminds them that they are in the 21st century and how moronic you'd have to be to think he'd be stuck in the past). Others ask why he doesn't have a crown and he explains they only wear those during special services/traditions/etc not all the time

*Unlike canon, he has no siblings

My most ironic/funny talent: I actually expected a lot of talents that didn't fit because they were random, however I felt each I could somehow bend to make the character the character. However, I have a few:

Chihiro : Shsl Swordsperson (Chihiro being as small as they are and carrying a giant sword is just hillarious to me)

Gonta: Shsl Soilder (Ah, sweet Gonta being a Soilder)

Himiko: Shsl Biker Gang Leader (Another, wow you are so sleepy and lethargic all the time how will you lead a biker gang)

Celsete: Shsl Team Manger (I just find the irony that in canon she just wanted others to serve her, But in the talentswap she actually has to work for others. And also has to work hard)

[chaptersofnow]

kids of Rumble and Scootaloo

Ruff and Tumble!

Bios under the cut

Name: Ruff Nickname(s): Age: 11 Pronouns: She/Her Identity: bi girl crush/reltionship: Parents: Scootaloo and Rumble Sibling: Tumble Special Talent: Animal care Occupation: Student, Dog walker Location: Califoalnia Likes: big dogs, baths, haircuts, dog videos, cute dogs Dislikes: homework, flight camp,  dentist Bio: Scootaloo and rumble often found themselves in the same circles of friends and groups, but as they entered their teen years they found themselves spending more one on one time together. Often bumping into each other at flight shows, sport parks and ect. soon they were just making plans to do these things together.  the two dated through middle and highschool until they broke up, the two were both moving far for college and couldn't see themselves personally being able to keep up with a long distances relationship. a few years later they've bumped into one other, both were different from when they last saw each other. scootaloo still loved flying sports but was much for responsible and laid back having more of an interest in smaller at home hobbies. While Rumble not identifies as a woman and had just been divorced and had a young filly of her own. Scootaloo offer her home to her old friend while she found her hoof hold on life again, the divorce of her college love and child father  leaving her in pieces. Scootaloo was by her side for all she needed through her months of recovery and moving on. the two ended up falling into a life together as adults, rekindling their old torches for one another and raising their kid in a happy home with two moms. along the line they had a second kid, Ruff. Ruff was very young when her parents moved to Califoalnia, moving their to work along an old friend, Rainbow Dash to revitalize the new generation of Wonderbolts. Ruff is your typical young skater kid you'd see on tv, she loves the sun and known everyone, she likes to ride her skateboard to the local shop where her older friends work. Often can be found walking almost 10+ dogs at a time on a daily bases and loves it. the backyard of her families home is a nightmare as its used to play with the many dogs she takes care off through the summer. She a good kid and loves to say shit like 'radical' and 'swag' unironically.   The one problem she has is her parents pushing her to join Rainbow dash's training for the new wonderbolts, but Ruff wants nothing to do with it. she isnt interested in flying and hates every summer her parents send her to flight camp. she just wants to stay home and hang out with her friends and dog. Sadly she's the kid who got the wings and her parents seem to expect her to use them.

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

Name: Tumble Nickname(s): Age: 14 Pronouns: He/him Identity: Questioning boy crush/reltionship: Parents: Rumble and Scootaloo (Adoptive mother) Sibling: Ruff Special Talent: gymnastics Occupation: Student, gymnastics team Location: Califoalnia Likes: school, parkour videos, comic books, rules, Spiders Dislikes: math, errands, spending time with others longer than he can handle Bio: Born to Rumble and another unamed pony, Rumble married her college romance right after graduation and had a kid right away. Rumble soon learned she may have rushed into things too soon as her partner up and left her with the kid to never be heard from after their divorce finalized. Tumble was too young to remember any of this, he only remembers growing up in a home with his mom Rumble and her girlfriends Scootaloo. As he got older he learned that scootaloo took rumble in after her divorce and after awhile of healing and rekindling their childhood romance they began to date. and when tumble was 3 they brought home his baby sister. Tumble is now 14 and loves gymanstics often staying after school for hours being the last one out of the gymnasium. He quiet popular with the others in his classes, he gets good grades and is fairly a good student. on top of this he even had a temper and even openly hates dumb school rules which gets other to see him as having a 'bad boy streak'. He kinda just plays as the ultimate perfect older brother type. However his temper is a real problem and he often has a problem with jealousy especially toward his younger sister. he often worries his parents like her more because they had her together and not him, or that she has wings and they expect her to become a wonderbolt. Not to mention she hangs out with some of his friends at their jobs while he is working on his form at the gymasium during the summer, and they seem to genuinely find her fun and not pestering at all. maybe it is silly of him to be so jealous of his carefree sister but, what can ya do.

[futurewriter2000]

Convince me

A/N: This took me so long and no I won’t edit it because I just don’t want to read it again. I’m just gonna listen to my George Michael and chill at 2am.

PAIRING: Fred Weasley x reader

REQUEST: Could you do a Fred Weasley x Reader when their in their fourth year where they both are secretly in love with eachother. But one day George asks somethin like what do you like in a guy and since shes a few months older then them she jokingly says she likes older men. Later Percy asks her out she says no but Fred doesn't know that and thinks she said yes cause "she likes older men". And theres angst and stuff.

XX

 Sometimes you couldn’t describe what you felt. You knew exactly when you were angry; the gritting of your teeth, heart pumping faster, blood reaching your cheeks, nerves thinning, brain clouded... or when you were sad; usually feeling like your heart was in a dark pit, floating in a shallow sea of sorrow. 

But this feeling- this emotion- this whatever this is, you couldn’t describe it with words. You couldn’t even figure it out what this really was. It wasn’t just an affinity, nor attrection and desire but it wasn’t love either. So what was it? 

When your eyes meet, your heart stops for a second and it starts pounding in your chest. When his smile reaches his cheeks and is directed to you, your hands become clammy and feel yourself get sweaty. When he speaks with his voice, your stomach twists and starts doing rhythmic gymnastics but what happens when he’s close and his hand brushes against yours?- Combination of chaos, hormones and emotions. A mess to put it subtle.

“Hey, Cherry.” you snapped your head at the ginger boy, your eyes narrowing at him. 

Cherry. The nickname George and Fred thought of when they pulled a hair-colouring prank on you. Your hair was vibrant red, sticking out in every direction and because of the poor inovention, it kept letting red drops fall on the ground, turning them into cherries. It kept going on for three days. 

“Stop calling me that, George. If anyones hair is cherry, it’s yours.” you rolled your eyes at him. 

“George? What in the right mind made you think I am George and not Fred.” he scrunched his eyebrows together and crossed his arms over his chest as if he was offended. 

You could only wish it was Fred talking to you at the moment but he wasn’t. It was his brother. His taller brother whose nose was more crooked, eyes more round and brown, lips more thin yet more rosier, shoulders less broad, more brawny body and grin almost reflecting his brother’s yet with less mischief. Oh, and one more thing. You weren’t in love with George and the energy around was quite different than around Fred.

“Don’t bother, George.” you slightly pushed his shoulder so his arms uncrosed and fell down against his body. “You know it doesn’t work with me.”

He bent down, looking directly in your eyes and wondering. “You never cease to amaze me. From all the people that can tell us apart, you are the only one.” 

A blush crept on your cheeks, flattered by his words. “You make me swoon with your choice in words,George Weasley.” you crinckled your nose at him and started walking forward. 

Yet, he was more nervous when he walked. Tensed as even, You quirked an eyevrow at him and he smiled awkwardly. “Swoon, you say, I wouldn’t be surprised because, well...” he stopped in front of you, showing himself off. “Look at me.”

“I am.” you narrowed your eyes. “Can’t say I see much.” you joked and he let out a scoff.

“Oh, okay Mrs. Heartbreaker. What is much for you?” 

You laughed at his response, looking over his shoulder and seeing a 7th year Gryffindor Quidditch Keeper laugh with his roommate. “You see that Gryffindor over-there.” you nodded behind him and he turned around to see the 7th year. 

“Really? Oliver Wood?”

“Not just him. Your brother there isn’t so bad either. It’s like killing two birds with one stone- or more likely two birds killing one stone.” you winked and George laughed.

“Percy? As in my older brother Percy??” he kept looking at you with shock.

“How older exactly?” you continued to tease.

“Like too old for your picky arse- are you serious?” he still couldn’t believe his hearing. “Percy?”

“You know what the say; the older you get the more experianced you are.” you winked at him, walking away as his mouth fell agape. 

“Your dirty mind cannot compare to your innocent name, Cherry.” he spoke behind you.

“It’s always the most innoncent that are the wildest in bed.” you turned around with a grin, waved at him and left for your dorms.

And it was not all lie. You liked Percy even if he was a stuck up sometimes, he could really be sweet with you, caring even. You’ve never seen Percy Weasley rested nor relaxed. He was always trying to achieve something. His ambitions drove his mind almost to insanity.

Yet, you remembered this one day, back in your 2nd Year, he was sleeping in the library. His head was supported by his hand and his horn-rimmed glasses were on the pile of papers, his other hand on top of a few open books that were on top of some other closed books. And though at the time, you and Percy only exchanged a nodd or a simple “hi”, you decided to wake the Prefect up. 

‘ Your hand touched his shoulder and you rocked him gently. “Percy.” you spoke very quietly, trying not to frighten him. “Percy.” you tried again and he opened his eyes slowly. They were just like Fred’s, you noticed. When his mind awoke as well, he jumped up-straiht and started looking around. 

“Merlin! What time is it?!” he shouted and you shushed him.

“It’s late. That’s why I woke you up.” 

He looked up, calmed down and smiled softly. “You’re (y/n), right?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yes. That’s me.” you kept smiling. “I didn’t know you knew my real name due to your brothers always calling me Cherry.” 

“My brother’s can quite step over the limit but they don’t mean harm.” he smiled as well. It was as if you were looking a completely different side of him. “Sit.” he offered, gesturing his hand to the chair. “I hear you’re doing great in all of your classess except Charms. I could tutor you if you would like.” 

“YES!” you blurted out desperatly. “I mean...” you looked down with a blush and fumbled your fingers. “I’d love to.” ‘ 

Charms was always hell for you. Always. Since the first year and you could notice that Flitwick wasn’t very fond of you as well. Fred and George, as great as they were with Charms, were never much on school and tutoring after-school hours wasn’t their idea of living. So, Percy was the one who always helped you with your school work, especially Charms and since that night, you got to know a completely different side of him. He could be patient and sweet. He takes his time with explaining how to do a wand movement or how to figure out Arithmancy when you decided to take the class.  

Yes, you liked Percy Weasley but he wasn’t his brother. He wasn’t Fred. He wasn’t the one you felt a mess for.

---

It was odd though. The next time you saw Percy, he was a bit on edge. He kept playing with his fingers, his mouth kept being curved up into this awkward smile and his voice kept shaking- speaking far too quickly for your ears to catch his words.

“Percy.” you put your hand on his, looking into his eyes. “You keep bouncing your leg and that is really distracting. I can’t concentrate.”

He sat solid on that chair like a rock, watching you back before shaking his head and smiling softly.” Sorry. I’m just a bit nervous.”

“May I ask you why?” you smiled and dropped down your pen to listen.

“Uhm...” he chuckled awkwardly, avoiding your eyes. “Well, George told me you fancied me for a while and I sort of fancy you back but I never wanted to say anything because of the-” he stopped for a while, reading your expression that stayed just the same as he started telling you this.”-age thing.” he continued with caution. “But he said you actually prefer that so I thought, maybe. if you want, we can go to Hogsmeade together next week?” 

You stared, empty for words, confused at what he just said,- what? What just happened?

“Percy...” you started with a disappointing sigh, seeing as his shoulders dropped. 

“It’s alright. I knew-”

“No, Percy. I do like you and if I do go on the Hogsmeade date with you, what would happen after? After you grauate and leave. I still have 3 years of Hogwarts left and you have a carrier to think about.” you smiled and put your hand on top of his. You could see his mind clear up, the pieces coming together. “Plus...I know you are still in love with Penny and I- well, I’m also in love with somebody else.”

You could see him exhale the breath he was holding it. In a way, he expected to be disappointed but if he was honest with himself, he was actually relieved. 

“Does that someone else have to do with my brother?” he smirked at you and you felt your eyes widen at him. 

He knew!

“You knew!” 

“The puppy eyes, the obvious red stain on your cheeks. It doesn’t take a genious to figure out.” he chuckled and leaned back on the chair.

“Yeah, well obviously it takes your brother quite some time to figure it out.” you sighed and leaned back as well.

“Just tell him then.”

“You tell Penny.” you snapped back.

“Tell her what?”

“That you want her back.”

“I do not!” he denied but you knew he was lying through his front teeth. You fixiated your gaze on him and he smiled awkwardly. “Perhaps I do but like you said, my Hogwarts years are coming to an end and we’re both going seperate way. All I want to say to you is that don’t wait as long as I did.” 

---

The next time you saw Fred Weasley, he wasn’t in his best of moods. You walked in the Gryffindor common room and saw two red-heads together, whispering. 

You rolled your eyes and made your way to the armchair opposite. “Hey, there strangers.”

Their heads popped up. George smiled meanwhile Fred didn’t. “Hey.” they both said in unison and then started whispering again. 

You knitted your eyebrows together and moved closer to them, trying to start a conversation. “What are the two of you doing?” 

“Noone of your business, Cherry.” said Fred with a forced grin. 

You leaned back, amazed by the attitude Fred just gave you and looking at George who shared the same expression as you. 

“Okay.” you said and stood up. “Guess, I’ll leave you both alone.” 

“Come on, Ch-” George tried to speak but Fred cut him off.

“Yeah. I think you know where my brother’s dorm is but I don’t think he’s there.” 

You turned around. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Fred mumbled and turned his eyes back on the paper he was working with his brother. 

You kept looking at him. Shocked? Furious? With the most horrible feeling in our stomach? - More or so. Furious. 

“Guess, I will. He seems to be far better of a company than the two of you.” and you stomped up to the boys dormitory, walking into Percy’s room and starting to rant. “Your brother is such a prick! I cannot believe I fell for him!” you sat down on the bed and then got up again, throwing your arms around nervously. “Firstly, he’s all flirty and touchy with me! Always Cherry this, Cherry that! I honestly thought he might like me back but noooo,, not Fred-right! NOT FRED! He’s just gonna make a girl feel more daft then she already feels!” you turned to point finger at Percy who was grinning at you, flicking his eyes to his right. 

You looked to your right side only to see Oliver Wood, sitting and grinning on his bed. 

You covered your lips with your hands, feeling more embarrased than you did with Fred.��“I didn’t see you there.” you spoke shyly and he just laughed. 

“I’m glad you didn’t. Then I wouldn’t see this intimidating side of you.” he said and put his hands away from the books. “So I gather you fancy Fred?”

“What gives you that idea?” you joked.

“Just a guess.” he joked as well, getting up and stretching his arms. “It’s funny because Fred fancies you back, you know?” 

“No, he doesn’t.” you laughed in denial. 

“He does?” Percy sceptically looked at Oliver. 

“Yeah.”

“I don’t believe you.” you said, still laughing. 

“Want me to prove it?” he rolled his eyes.

“How?- actually no.” you shook your head, standing up. “I- Fred doesn’t like me. He just doesn’t and he just proved it. He would never act the way he did right now.” 

“(Y/n). That’s what guys do-”

“No, no.” you shook your head. “I am better than him. Better than planning schemes and trying to prove a point.” you said and walked through the doors. 

---

Well, you thought you were better than that. Fred’s been driving you insane all week. He kept teasing you, something about dating older guys and it didn’t bother you much because you only retorded something back but he crossed the line when he told other people you were shagging one of them.

You stormed into their room, red-stained, furious. “HOW?!” you clenched your fists and stared at his eyes, meanwhile Oliver just smiled.

“Just follow my lead.”

---

You never really knew what Oliver meant by following his lead but you did what he told you to do. You waited in the common room but since his Quidditch practice took a bit more longer than he told you it would, you decided to read a book. 

It was until the loud voices came echoing from the portrait hole and the whole Quidditch team reappeared. 

You looked up at Oliver and he smiled at you, meanwhile Fred behind them quirked an eyebrow. 

“Come on. Go.” Angelina pushed Oliver, meanwhile Fred shot his head to her. 

“What’s going on?” Fred asked, switching his gazes between Oliver, you and Angelina. 

It was until right that moment when Percy came from behind them and leaned on Fred’s shoulder. “Oh, so he’s finally going to ask her out.”

Fred now shot his head to him. “I thought you asked her out?”

“I did but she made me realize I still have feelings for Penny and that because of the age gap, it wouldn’t work out.” Percy said and Fred shot his eyes back to the laughing pair at the couch. 

“Then she’d say no to him as well.” he said more nervously. 

“Wouldn’t know. Wood can be pretty good with the ladies-” he said but Fred was already with the two of you. 

You continued to giggle, touching Oliver’s arm and not taking a second glance at the boy who stood above you. He cleared his throat and both of you looked up to him.

“Yes, Fred?” 

“What’s going on here?” 

“Just two people enjoying each other’s company...alone.” 

“Aren’t the two of you a bit too cosy?” he kept glaring.

“So what if we are?” you crossed your arms over your chest. Was he really getting jealous? 

“Why would you care, Freddie?” Wood grinned, leaning back and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “It’s not like you like her. Do you?” 

He glared into Oliver’s eyes and felt his body shake. He wanted to punch him and tore that arm around you off him. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist, red staining his cheeks. 

“Fred?” you asked and his eyes shot to yours who looked so innocently at his. “Do you?” 

Fred kept exchanging looks. He wanted to deny. To say no or something but the way you were looking at him, he just thought that maybe- just maybe you liked him back.

But that was impossible. 

“Uh-I-”

“Oh bloody hell this is torturing.” Oliver groaned. “Just admit it. You like her, she likes you- end of story.” he stood up and clasped his hands together. “Now go make out and thank me later.” he started walking away. “Preferably with those nice sour gummy worms.” and he was out of sight, leaving both you and Fred blushing and awkwardly standing alone. 

“Do- do you really like me?” he looked up in your eyes  and sat down next to you. 

“I mean there’s no point in hiding it anymore.” you laughed and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“But I thought you liked older guys.” 

“Who told you that?” you smiled and felt the tension thinning.

“George said-”

“George?” you laughed. “All we ever do is joke around and make stupid sarcastic retords. Why would you ever believe George?” 

“I don’t know-” he smiled. “I just guess since I like you as well it felt serious at the time.”

A smile wiped itself from your lips.

It was true. Oliver and Percy were right. 

And then the biggest curve your lips could form appeared on our cheeks.”Really?”

“You don’t believe me?” he rolled his eyes, smiling. 

“I mean-”

His hand reached for your cheek and he pulled you into a kiss. A soft, short kiss just for the first taste. He pulled away, looking at your eyes and smiling. “Believe me now?” 

“I think I’ll need some more convincing.” 

[rhubarbbaby]

Strawberries and Art 3

Jihoon x Y/N

Genre: College AU, Fluff Word Count: 5k Summary: Like every passionate art student, you spent most of your time immersed in your drawings and paintings. The day you meet Jihoon, your everyday life suddenly gets a lot more exciting…

All chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Chapter 3

You woke up to the exaggeratedly loud chirping of a bird that seemed to be sitting right on your window sill. What was it even doing there? Rude. Rolling to your side, the first rays of sunshine fell onto your face. Not wanting to open your eyes just yet you let the warmth linger on your face. As your consciousness slowly tore itself free from the claws of the dreams, you wouldn´t be able to remember in a second, you realized you were still wearing the jeans from last night. Last night…Last night…Jihoon. Suddenly everything that happened hit you like bricks.

Did Jihoon really walk you home? Had he really held your hand? For a moment you thought you were messing up remaining pieces of your dreams with reality but then you remembered the text he had sent you before you fell asleep. Prying your eyes open you looked at your phone. The text was still there, staring back at you, still unanswered. (You also had 4 unread messages from Jo but you couldn´t care less right now)

Unknown: I just got home. Goodnight, Sweetie. Don´t forget to drink lots of water!

Sweetie. You knew you wouldn´t be getting used to that soon. When he had called you Sweetie last night you felt so taken aback because maybe for the first time in your life, you had enjoyed a guy calling you by a pet name. He had sounded so honest, in a certain way even serious, he had sounded so different from all those boys who were calling girls by all those sickly sweet things just to get into their pants, belittling them in the process. He had been so incredibly considerate. The way his voice had seemed to have gotten a tad bit deeper when saying it, the way you could practically hear him smirking, it was sheer impossible getting used to something like that.

After you had saved his contact you stared at your phone. Simply seeing his name on your screen made your heart, not jump, but it did make a distinct little hop. With a big sigh you let yourself fall back onto your mattress. What crazy ass romantic movie parallel universe have you stumbled into? Meeting a guy you were interested in, was already a rare occurrence. But meeting a guy you were interested in, who was also showing interest in you (AND CALLED YOU SWEETIE) was something that only happened once in a blue moon.

You knew you had to send him a reply. It didn´t help that you were reading his message over and over again, hearing his voice in your head. You needed to focus. Just because you didn´t have to look him in the eyes, and didn´t have to actually form words with your mouth, just because you simply had to type it, you did only spend about 5 minutes coming up with a (you hoped) funny text.  

You: Hey! I fell asleep yesterday. With my clothes still on! Like I actually wore jeans to sleep. That´s like fucked up. Anyways, thank you for texting me :) I had so much fun last night.

After hitting send you instantly threw your phone onto your bed. You were scared of him answering right away. Scared but also excited but also scared. Giggling to yourself because you were aware of how dramatic you were handling the entire situation you decided to get up and start with your day. It was only eight and you made an agreement with yourself not to think about him until after breakfast because having a crush on a (extremely beautiful and funny and handsome and hot) boy who you had just met two days ago was ridiculous, or so you told yourself. Taking a shower, brushing your teeth, putting on clean clothes… your undertaking was going well, you hadn´t thought of him, at least not directly. You had thought of not thinking about him…and you counted that as a win. During breakfast you decided to check Jo´s messages.

Jo: Did you use condoms??

Jo: Did you get home safely?

Jo: Is he staying over?

Jo: Are you ok?

You couldn´t help but laugh at how excited she was about the whole situation. She probably had been annoying Hansol with it all evening. Poor man.

You: Yup I got home very safely. And no he didn´t stay over.

You: We had so much fun tho.

You: Did you get home safely?

She answered within two minutes.

Jo: Don´t you dare make this about me. I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING.

Jo: Did you kiss?

You: No we didn´t. But we held hands.

Jo: CUTE.  When will you see him again?

You: I don´t know yet. I hope soon.

Jo: I hope so too. I´m already planning the marriage.

You: omg stop it…LOL

Just after you had hit send, you felt your phone vibrate with a new text. Of course it was from Jihoon. Without an ounce of hesitation you practically threw your phone next to you on the couch. You did not want to look at it. Actually, you did. But you needed to physically prepare yourself for reading what he had messaged you. You could feel your heart oh so clearly in your chest. How ridiculous it was that you reacted this way just because of a goddamn text…Calm down. You took a deep breath in and out.

Before reading his new message (and it wasn´t just one!!!! There were three of them) you reread what you had last written.

You: Hey! I fell asleep yesterday. With my clothes still on! Like I actually wore jeans to sleep. That´s like fucked up. Anyways, thank you for texting me :) I had so much fun last night.

Deep breath in. And out.

Jihoon: Hahahahaha yes Y/N, that is fucked up.

Jihoon: But I´m pretty sure you still looked cute.

Jihoon: You wanna get lunch tomorrow after class?

HOLY FUCK. This was real. You just got asked on a date by one of the most beautiful boys you had ever seen. Yes, you had already held hands yesterday, but there had been alcohol involved and people do a lot of things when they´re drunk. But all of your past overthinking just turned out to have been utterly pointless because Jihoon wanted to see you again. And he had called you cute. Your entire face was burning and your stomach seemed to do some weird gymnastic exercises.

You did not have to think long before typing your answer.

You: I´d love that :)

Jihoon: Awesome. I´ll show you my favorite place.

He actually wanted to show you his favorite place. Your heart was still beating way too fast and the blush on your face was still very visible but at the same time you felt a calming warmth spread through your stomach. You remembered you had felt so comfortable talking to him last night and for some dumb cliché romantic movie reason you felt like you had already known him for years. And now he wanted to show you his favorite place. That was a big hell of a deal. You couldn´t stop smiling.  

After dumbly grinning at the ceiling for several seconds you scolded yourself. You couldn´t just be lying around all day daydreaming about a boy. Sighing you remembered that today, you had to finally start with your portrait assignment. It was already due on Wednesday. You needed it to be good. Your professor was very supportive and had been pushing you to become better. Disappointing her was the last thing you wanted to do. But you didn´t even know who you wanted to draw yet…some random celebrity was just boring…a family member maybe? But you had all drawn them before already. Burying your face in your hands you sat on your couch. After about fifteen minutes you reluctantly started sketching your mother´s face. You´ve drawn her face so many times already, it was nothing special. You weren´t satisfied with your choice at all but you couldn´t think of someone better at the moment.

When you realized it was already getting dark outside you stared down at the lines you had been working on for basically the entire day. You didn´t like it. Far back in your head you knew that other people would label your work as good, maybe even great, but you just couldn´t bring yourself to like it. The facial features you were trying to portrait just didn´t seem right to you. You only had so many good pictures of your mother and remembering every single wrinkle and mark on her face was harder than you thought. The way the lines were flowing over the paper didn´t look right, it didn´t look like you had drawn them. You were aware that every artist had days like this, but the deadline was next week and you simply didn´t have the time to start over.  Also you had a date tomorrow. How the fuck were you going to survive the next days?

Before going to bed you forced yourself to lay out the clothes you wanted to wear for tomorrow. You weren´t exactly a morning person and you knew you´d panic if you had to find an outfit to wear right after waking up. An outfit Jihoon was going to see you in…

You fell asleep thinking of tomorrow, a mixture of anxiety and anticipation making your stomach feel weird.

The first thing you did, after waking up the next day, was to check your phone:

Jihoon: You still up for lunch today?

Jihoon: 1pm in front of the arts building?

You: I´ll be there!

After having typed an answer, you got dressed, grabbed all your things and left your apartment. You weren´t one of those people who got up an hour earlier to do yoga or whatever bullshit normal people do in the morning. Every day you woke up only twenty minutes before your first lecture started. Every single second of sleep counted.

While you were walking you got a message from Jo.

Jo: You up for breakfast after the second lesson? You need to tell me everything!!!!

You knew she was probably already dying from curiosity. She was too nosy for her own good. But you had mercy.

You: Sure!

You were actually looking forward to telling Jo everything. You still couldn´t believe what had happened yourself, maybe it would become more real through finally saying everything out loud. Your first two lessons you spent listening to the professor talk about Paul Cézanne and, for some reason, reciting every last unnecessary detail of his private life. You decided that the only important piece of information from this lecture was that some of Cézanne´s landscape paintings were sort of pretty.

When you finally sunk down in the chair opposite of Jo´s you were already grinning. You simply could not wait for her reaction to everything. She immediately leaned forward while leaning on her elbows. “Start already” “Oh my god. Can´t I just relax for a second.” “NO.” You had to giggle at her urgency. “Alright, alright…”

After you had told her everything, from the long talk the two of you had had, over the way he had made you blush continuously, to when he had walked you home and had given you his phone number she just said, “That´s so unbearably cute and romantic it´s disgusting.” You couldn´t help but laugh out loud at her remark. “You two are so sickeningly romantic I wanna die. Why can´t you be as cool as me and Hansol?” she was grinning.   “First of all, we´re not a couple and second of all, you two are at least as disgusting!” you were laughing. “You realize mine and Hansol´s first date was when I drank too much and he had to hold my hair while I was throwing up?” “Yeah. I know the story.”, you were still laughing. She continued anyway “And then he drove me home. And he kissed me even though I had just thrown up minutes ago. Ok, now that I think of it, maybe our first date was even more disgusting. I´ll shut up.” Both of your laughter was carried through the entire cafeteria. The other people, who were most likely just trying to have a calm morning were probably already, annoyed by the both of you but you couldn´t care less. “Also. I kinda maybe have a lunch date with him later.” “You´re kidding!!!!!” You just shook your head and smiled. “Oh my god,  I´m dying this is the cutest shit. I´m sooo happy for you. Are you nervous?” “So fucking much. But I can´t wait to see him again.”

The rest of your classes passed rather quickly. Not being the biggest fan of auditory learning you were happy about it, but at the same time you couldn´t help getting more nervous every time the hand of the clock on the wall moved. Rationally you knew you were being silly. There was nothing to worry about. You were only going on a date with the most attractive guy you´ve ever seen, who is able to make you blush with just a raise of his eyebrow. There was totally nothing to worry about. Fuck.

When you classes had ended you still had fifteen minutes before you were meeting Jihoon. You were so nervous, your hands were shaking and you didn´t have the faintest clue how you would be able to form a straight sentence later. You slipped through the door into the girl´s bathroom. You washed your hands with cold water while staring at your own face in the mirror. The last time you had spoken to him, you had been drunk, there was no doubt the alcohol had helped you with your anxiety. Today you were on your own. Why did you always have to be so nervous? With one long breath and a last look in the mirror, you were actually happy with how your hair fell today; you pushed yourself away from the sink and made your way to your meeting place.

Through the glass front of the building you could see him standing next to that weird sculpture, which the seniors from last year had designed, in front of the building. He was looking at his phone. Every step you took made you even more nervous (how was that even possible?). How were you going to greet him? Hug him? Shake his hand?? NOoo, what the fuck that´d be way too formal. Why were you thinking bullshit like that? You took a deep breath, put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and opened the door. He still hadn´t seen you.

“Hey.” You called softly, loud enough for him to realize it was meant for him. “Hey you.” He looked up and if you weren´t mistaken, his eyes lit up when he saw you, a sparkle that you were sure you could watch all day. But maybe it was just the sun reflecting in his eyes (it was not). You were now standing in front of him, unsure what to do. He smiled at you; put his phone away in his back pocket and then he pulled you into a hug. Your first hug. And holy fuck, a hug shouldn´t be a big deal but it definitely felt like it. It wasn´t one of those hugs people gave because they thought it was expected of them. His hug was tight and you could actually feel his hands on your back. Jihoon´s embrace was so soft, so affectionate. You actually felt like you were stuck in one of Claude Monet´s paintings. Gentle, colorful, overwhelming, so beautiful, yet realistic and real. You smiled, thinking of that comparison. Neither one of you noticed the students leaving the building smiling at you because the hug was obviously too long for a hug to be considered normal. He felt so warm and safe, and when you wrapped your arms around him even tighter you briefly touched his hair, and goddamn it, it was so soft.

“It´s good to see you again.” He finally mumbled against your shoulder. “You too.” He pulled away and looked at you. He was grinning like a kid in a candy store, his eyes had disappeared and small wrinkles had appeared around his nose. It was absolutely precious. You had no choice but to smile back at him.

“You hungry?” he finally broke the silence. “A bit.” At that moment your stomach growled. (It must´ve been destiny) “A bit? I see…,” he laughed. Your cheeks flushed with a light tone of red. “Come on.” he took your hand, not giving you enough time to be embarrassed about the situation. “Where are we going?” you asked. “I promised I´d show you my favorite place.” He gently started pulling you away from the building while still looking at you, smiling. Your body still felt like there was electricity running through your veins and your face must have been still flushed red but it felt so right to hold his hand. You smiled back.  

He took you to a little ramen restaurant, close to town. The front door seemed so inconspicuous that you had probably walked past it without noticing it in the past. As the two of you entered he was still holding your hand. He led you through the interior of the restaurant, where some people were already having lunch. You knew you already liked the place when you saw how diverse the clientele was. At one table sat two boys, approximately your age, stuffing their mouths full of Ramen, while at another table two businesswomen seemed to have a heated conversation. Jihoon dragged you past them, and only stopped when you were standing in a small backyard with a few tables of which only one of them was occupied by an elderly couple who were sharing a plate of what looked like Gyoza.

You chose the table for two that was the furthest away from the door and took a seat. On the way here, you had been overly focused on Jihoon, on how tightly he pressed your fingers, how he occasionally stroked the back of your hand with his thumb, the quick glances he threw at you, your undivided attention had been all on him but now that you were sitting here in this absolutely adorable backyard, you allowed your brain to briefly focus your attention on your surroundings. Climbing plants were growing up the wall of the house, carrying small pretty blue blossoms, the blue of the flowers looking especially pretty in front of the beige colored wall plaster.  In the corner, where two walls from two different buildings met each other, the blue and beige mixed with a white from the neighboring wall and a light pink of some petals that were growing on bushes that were planted there. The colors alone went so beautifully together you just couldn´t help but stare. When you saw the little clay-figure of a frog in a suit sitting on the ground, as if he had to guard those bushes, you had to giggle.

“What is it?” Jihoon interrupted your thoughts. He was beaming at you as if you had just found the cure for cancer. You couldn´t have known it, of course, but Jihoon would´ve been able to watch you look at those flowers for hours on end. He was sure the way your eyes started to sparkle when looking at something beautiful was the cutest thing he had ever seen in his entire life.

“Nothing really. It´s just, that frog there looks so adorable.” “What frog?” he turned his head to look at the figure himself and then continued “Oh that frog. That´s just Ferdinand.” As you were laughing at his remark, he smiled fondly at you, proud of himself for being the one bringing those sounds out of you. “Ferdinand? You serious?” you grinned, finally having caught your breath again. “Yep. He´s like my best buddy. We always have very interesting conversations whenever I come here.”   “Ferdinand does seem like an intellectual to me, I bet your talks are always incredibly exciting.” At that Jihoon joined your laughter. His laughter reminded you of vacation, of secluded beaches, of evening sun, of a loaded ice cream cone, of not worrying. “Can I tell you something.” you already knew from the tone in his voice that he wasn´t going to say anything serious. “Always.” “I don´t even know Ferdinand. This is the first time I noticed him. We´re basically strangers. Hell, I don´t even know if his name is Ferdinand.” Your stomach already hurt from laughter while you held your hand in front of your mouth, trying not to laugh out loud again. “Jihoon, you are so silly.” “Oh, I know sweetie, I know.” he smiled knowingly, almost cocky as he leaned back into his chair and locked his arms behind the back of his head. You were still laughing but you had no choice but being You stunned over how easily he could go from being the sweetest and cutest human being to making you blush like crazy. It was simply not fair.

“So tell me, how was your day?” he came to your rescue. He was still smiling, enjoying the effect he had on you. When you started talking, it took you a few sentences to gain back your confidence and certainty in your voice. Your conversation was light and easy but not at all shallow. He listened to you attentively and even asked for details, you seriously felt like you were telling him the most exciting and fascinating stories he has ever heard. Maybe you really were living in a romantic movie now because he honestly was making you feel like you were the most important girl on earth right now. You only were interrupted by the waiter who quickly took your order. Talking to Jihoon felt so familiar while at the same time not. You did have the feeling of having known him for years, but you also felt like you didn´t know anything about this boy sitting in front of you. Both in a good way. He made you comfortable and curious. And because people who have a crush are blind to some things you wondered if he was feeling the same way about you.

When the waiter had dropped off the two plates of food in front of you, and you both had just taken your first bite, neither of you had to say anything. You even closed your eyes briefly and let out a short sigh. The food really was that good.

“It tastes like heaven, doesn´t it?” he cocked an eyebrow at you. “It really does. How have I never been here, I´ve been missing out on this for so long.” You sighed dramatically which made him grin. “Thank god you met me, huh?” Your gazes met, and although his remark had definitely contained a hint of cockiness, he now looked at you, as gently as if you were the most beautiful, most delicate thing he had ever seen in his life. Looking into his eyes, your heart skipped a beat, and even though you were flustered, you could simply not turn your eyes away. Because, yes, he was right, you were really happy you had met him. “Thank you so much for showing me this place. Seriously.” You finally said, your voice way too hushed to sound confident. “You´re very welcome, Y/N. I´m happy you´re here with me.”

You quickly fell back into a conversation about music. You absolutely loved listening to him talk about his passion. He got so excited talking about his work and when you mentioned that he finally had to show you some of his work, he even got a little shy. As fellow artist you understood the insecurity that came with showing other people personal works. Nothing was more relatable to you than the fear of not being able to convey to other people what you had tried so hard to express through your art, or the fear people wouldn´t even understand your kind of expression. But you also knew that any kind of art is always, in a way, a portrait of the artist himself. And when you were looking at Jihoon, listened to the way he talked, you already knew that his music was going to be just so goddamn beautiful.

The minutes you had spent talking to him had disappeared like the wind carries away seeds from a dandelion clock. The time had gone by so quickly, you hadn´t even realized that the two of you had been talking for over two hours. When the waiter came with your bill, you wanted to grab your wallet, because fuck gender roles but Jihoon was faster. You looked at him aghast, ready to tell him he really should´ve let you pay. The words already on your lips, Jihoon didn´t even let you start “I know, I know”, he held his hands up defensively “You wanted to pay and I´m sorry, well actually I´m not…” he laughed. “You didn´t even give me the time to look at the bill!” you were smiling now too but you still tried to keep your tone at least somewhat serious. “I´m sorry, sweetie.” He took your hand “What if I just let you pay next time?” You felt like the floor had been pulled from under your feet (and you were still sitting on your chair). He really wanted to see you again. You weren´t completely oblivious (only a bit) and you knew the date had been going well, but hearing him say those words was a totally different story. You nodded; he was still smiling at you. “Yes, I can live with that.” Your voice was a bit shaky. “Deal.” He was still holding your hand over the table, brushing his thumb over your knuckles.

He shortly looked down before posing his question “Ok so the thing is, I really enjoyed this and I kinda wanna keep talking to you so, do you wanna go for a walk?” And fuck you really really really really wanted to. Like REALLY. But the thought of your portrait assignment made you hesitate. You knew you still had so much work to do, hell you probably had to redo everything you drew yesterday.   “I…” you started when he cut you off. “You don´t have to, Y/N. I don´t want to pressure you into anything.” he smiled softly but you could see a tiny bit of disappointment changing his features, he must´ve noticed you were a bit hesitant to answer him. 

“No! I´d really love to. I love talking to you too. But I should go home to work on an assignment. It´s due on Wednesday and I´m kinda panicking because I haven´t even really started yet.” You looked down at the table where your hands were intervened. “Oh I get it. What´s the assignment?” “Basically I just need to draw a portrait of someone but I really really want it to be good. I started drawing my mom yesterday but I don´t like it. I think I don´t have enough good photos to draw her realistically and I´m not that great at drawing from memory.” “So you basically need someone to model for you.” You laughed softly, “I guess so.” “Why don´t you draw me then?” he winked at you. You blinked. Once, twice. Had he actually winked at you?? This man was going to be the death of you. Your eyes slightly widened, a blush was creeping up your neck again “You´re kidding.” “I am. Unless…” he was grinning from ear to hear. He really was enjoying your embarrassment way too much. “Also I´d say my face is pretty.” If he wasn´t holding your hand you would´ve tried hiding your face but that wasn´t an option now. “It is.” You stammered. “Did you just call me pretty?” he smirked. That was the last straw. You couldn´t take it anymore. You pulled your hand out of his grasp and hid your blushing face. “Maybe.” “I see. But I do think your face is even prettier.” He chuckled. You looked at him, that goddamn cocky grin on his slips. He knew what he was doing. Gathering all your left confidence you replied, “I can´t draw myself though.” “That´s why you should be drawing me.” “Wait, are you actually being serious?” “I´m not not serious.” He was still grinning but you could hear the earnestness in his voice. “I don´t even know what to say…” “Just say: yes Jihoon I´d love to draw your pretty face and I´ll even make your eyes a bit bigger so you´ll be even prettier than in real life.” You momentarily forgot about your heart beating this fast and your still cherry red face. You loved his eyes and how they disappeared whenever he was smiling. “What? No! Your eyes are perfect just the way they are.” “I appreciate the compliment, sweetie.” He smiled warmly at you. “But I really think we should go now, you still have to draw my portrait today.” You giggled. “I didn´t even agree yet!” He was getting up from his chair “Oh come on,” as soon as you were standing up too he reached for your hand again, “no one would turn down an offer like this.” “Jihoon, you are so full of yourself.” you laughed heartily. He over dramatically clutched his heart with his free hand. “Ow, don´t hurt me like that Y/N when I´m just trying to trick you into spending more time with me.” His blatant honesty made you speechless. You just looked at him and if you weren´t completely mistaken a tiny bit of red was covering his cheeks now too. “Fine. I´ll draw you.” “I am disproportionately delighted to hear that.” You giggled at his choice of words while squeezing his hand a bit tighter. And then the two of you were walking to your apartment, side by side, hand in hand, wearing matching grins.

Hi! It´s me, Jo. I´d like to thank you for reading my stuff! I really hope you enjoyed it. If you have any feedback, comments, requests, questions please let me know!

[seblos]

love on top

words: 1,387

series: snippets

read on ao3

When Carlos got to the studio that day, it felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. 

Rehearsals for Beauty and the Beast had been particularly rough, especially today. With Nini gone, it left Ricky and Kourtney moping and noncompliant. Meanwhile, Gina was still around and staying at Ashlyn’s house, but she had become distant without her mom around. Not to mention that even after High School Musical, it was clear there was still some divide between him and the cast. It was hard to get their attention, and if Miss Jenn wasn’t around to supervise choreography rehearsals, they hardly listened to him anyway. He had been hoping after the success of their fall show that his position even as an underclassman would have earned him some respect when it came to the show, but shortly after rehearsals for their spring musical, he was crushed with the reality that everything was exactly the same.

Realistically, Carlos knew he could do something about it. He could talk to Miss Jenn and ask her to be there more often, as when she was around, it was easier to get things done. He could talk to his classmates outside of class and try and hint at them that he needed just a little more support when it came to his choreography. 

Or he could just stand up for himself like a normal person. 

Somehow, though, Carlos couldn’t find the courage in him to do that yet. After the forest of boys incident from their fall show, it was going to be a little while before he was ready to stand up for himself like that. The way the entire room turned on him over in a matter of minutes was not something he was looking to experience again.

At least there was Seb. His wonderful, innocently kind boyfriend who always offered to let Carlos vent to him about how he wasn’t taken seriously by the cast. Seb was doing his best to stand up for Carlos as well considering people seemed to listen to him more often. Unfortunately, as much as Carlos appreciates his efforts, it seems as if the rest of the cast isn’t too interested in changing their dynamic anytime soon.

Rehearsal had ended early once again after Miss Jenn had to duck out early for some other emergency, and everyone else seemed to take it as a sign that they could stop too. While he understood the stress of what was going on right now: Nini not being around, prom, SATs, and other standardized testing, as well as the everyday stress of a high school student, it hurt to see everyone not always putting in the same amount of effort that he was. In the end, Carlos knew they would pull it together, that the cast would tighten back up the faster that opening night approached, but did it have to involve him suffering through the slow stages all alone for them to get to that point?

At least for now he could let go of his day and just dance. It always worked well as a creative outlet to be able to just drop his bag (as well as all of his figurative baggage) and forget himself for an hour and half class. He had to adjust his schedule so he wasn’t overwhelmed with dance classes, homework, and rehearsals all in one night. The nights he was able to make classes, though, it was practically therapy. 

It was nice to not be in charge for a little while. He loved choreographing, of course, otherwise, he never would have stuck with the show, but that love stemmed from his love for dance as a whole. His entire dance career could be traced back to this studio.

Once the class ends, Carlos takes a little extra time to pack up. His class was the last of the night, meaning that the room would clear out. Luckily, he had an understanding with his incredible dance teacher, who would immediately understand that he wanted to rehearse alone for a while and leave him to his own devices.

Once the room is empty, Carlos steps to the middle of the room, taking a deep breath. He rolls back his shoulders, plugging his favorite playlist into his earbuds, and just lets himself move.

Some of the songs are musical theatre, others are just pop songs from the past few years that he’s never gotten enough of. Either way, it feels good. Nothing he has to teach, nothing he has to create to set a scene, just dance. He finishes out the last of the song with a messy turn and his arms in the air like a gymnast. It’s nothing he would ever do on stage, but it’s fun, which he can only get so much of right now.

“Is that a new routine? I don’t think I’ve seen that one yet,” a voice comes from the doorway, and Carlos turns to see his boyfriend leaning against one of the bars, two paper to-go cups in hand. “If that’s something for the show, I hope it’s for Gina because I don’t know if any of us are capable of that.”

Carlos grins, going to pick up his glasses which he left in his bag before walking over to Seb. He gestures to the cups he’s holding, and Seb holds one out.

“Hot chocolate,” he smiles softly. “Even professional dancers like you deserve a treat.”

“I’m far from professional,” Carlos tells him, but he takes the cup gratefully. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“Georgie and I were picking up some stuff for the farm, and I knew you have dance on Tuesdays. Decided it was worth the risk to see if you were here.”

Carlos raises an eyebrow before taking a sip from the cup. “I guess you got lucky, then.”

Seb inches closer, and Carlos reaches behind him to put the cup on the shelf. Once he does, he lets his arm fall onto his boyfriend's shoulder. “Wanna learn a dance?”

“Still up to teach choreography after today?” Seb tilts his head, and Carlos rolls his eyes back at the reminder of rehearsal. 

“Dancing with you is different than dancing with them,” he points out vaguely, not missing the way Seb’s smile twists upwards like he can’t help it.

“Well, you have maybe five minutes before Georgie comes to kidnap me back.”

“That’s all I need,” Carlos says, before dropping his hand to take Seb’s, pulling his boyfriend to the center of the dance studio floor. He clicks off his previous playlist, scrolling through the car playlist they had made with Georgie until he found a song. His eyes catch a song, and he presses play.

Seb laughs as “Can I Have This Dance” from High School Musical 3 plays. “Not tired of High School Musical yet, either, huh?”

“Not yet,” he says, then pulls Seb close to him.

They both know enough of the original choreo from the movie that they’re not completely tripping over each other, although it’s definitely not as swift as the original. It does remind Carlos of their pre-school dance rehearsals together and their night at homecoming. That’s another thing dance has done for him: brought him closer to one of the most important people in his life. 

And then again, maybe he spoke too soon because a moment later Seb’s foot catches on his ankle, and they both fall to the ground.

“So maybe five minutes isn’t enough time to learn a dance,” Seb says, rolling off of Carlos and standing up, offering a hand out to him.

He accepts it gratefully. “Still easier than trying to teach Ricky.”

Seb doesn’t let go of his hand, instead pulling him into a hug. When he pulls back, he presses his forehead to Carlos. “You’ve got this, you know that right? Your choreography is genius and if Ricky or anyone else can’t recognize that then they clearly don’t know what’s best for the show.”

Ignoring the heat traveling up his neck, Carlos just smiles. “I don’t know… personally I think the best part is our very own Lumiere.”

Seb pulls away, rolling his eyes as he grabs Carlos’s hand. “Shush. And get your stuff. I’ll get Georgie to drive you home.”

[rosesvioletshardy]

life as we know it - b.h. chapter 2

finally this is done. it’s a little shorter than last chapter but i can’t promise it’s better? anyways i might take a little while on the next chapter because exams are coming up and i need to study so i just hoping y’all don’t give up on this i have started writing chapter 3

masterlist

summary: when their two best friends die, it’s up to people to take care of their goddaughter and face the challenges that come with it

# of words: 2305

warnings: little bit of swearing, both characters being dicks to each other, fluff and cuteness

--

late september 2016

over the months, everything went smoothing. ben went back to filming and y/n went back to running her bakery. when christian and lennon came back, they had the post wedding glow but at the same time lennon had the pregnancy glow like every other pregnant woman would. nothing would stop that woman from teaching and decided that at her 8 month mark she finally decided to stop and go on maternity leave until she was ready to go back.

Because of this, y/n and ben have been on high alert and making sure that their godchild and mother and father were okay. it was revealed that lennon was going to have a girl and everyone was so happy for her and christian. her due date was halloween and no one was shocked seeing it was lennon’s favorite holiday. earlier in the day, christian had sent lennon, his mother, and her mother all for a spa day so that him, ben, and y/n would be able to work on the nursery seeing that it wasn’t done besides the crib. the only problem was that arguments started all over again

“no, why can’t you help christian with the changing table and i actually paint. i’m the only one here who is at least creative and can draw and shit, no offense christian.” y/n told ben already rubbing the sides of her forehead knowing that her headache won’t go away

“none taken, and she’s right jonesy, we can’t draw for shit let alone paint without screwing up.” christian said not even looking up from the changing table instructions already tired of the two adults fighting and acting like children

“are you joking? how would you, of all people, know i can’t draw? maybe i’m good at it and it’s a secret talent i have?” ben told at her

“yeah, and i’m a world class gymnast that can do everything perfectly without screwing up!” 

“can the both of you just literally shut the fuck up and paint different sides of the room the colors we picked out please?” christian practically yelled the two adults before continuing

“look, i know you both want to be the best godparents there ever is and make sure you make lennon and i happy, and that this baby gets everything handed to her perfect. you’ve already done that just by helping us with everything else and by being our best friends and family,  but just for this one time, i need the both of you to do something where it seems like she won’t be the adult and you two are the children. now, she’s going to be back in about 2 hours and i promised her we’ll get at least half the room done and we’ll finish the rest either tomorrow or the day after or whenever. just, do whatever we have planned and that’ll be great. thank you.” christian told them

“fine, maybe i could lay down the tape and you can paint i’m tired of this already. i got somewhere to be soon anyways.” ben said grabbing the tape

“fine, maybe i could lay down the tape and you can paint i’m tired of this already. i got somewhere to be soon anyways.” ben said grabbing the tape

The three continued to work on the room and filming some memories for baby wakes up until christian got a call from his mother telling him that lennon’s water broke in the middle of a facial

“i thought she was supposed to give birth next month?” ben yelled searching frantically over the couples house for the stuff they needed

“she was, the baby just decided to come out early i suppose.” christian told him not being able to find where he put the baby bag for lennon when she gives birth and y/n noticing causing her to react

“chris, why don’t you go to the hospital and we’ll meet up later with some of the stuff you’re going to need afterwards. okay? just take a deep breath, in and out. good, now go be a dad.”

“congratulations you got this we’ll see you as soon as she’s born.” ben told him hugging him

“okay, see you guys soon. I’m going to be a dad!” he yelled as he ran to his car

“i’ll get their stuff ready, you can go wherever you need to go. i’ll call you when lennon gives birth.” she told him as she started to walk to lennon and christian’s room and grabbing one of their bags

“are you sure? i can call and cancel and reschedule? i don’t want you to always be the one doing the work, especially in times like this.” ben said to her

“yeah, i’m fine. your meeting sounded important, like for a new movie or something. just go ben. it’s fine.”

“alright then, um, just text or call me if anything happens. bye.” ben said leaving the room and headed towards his car

y/n next spent the next few hours fixing up some stuff to take for them and fixing them some food to eat that can feed a whole army knowing that they’ll have their hands full for a while 

according to christian, lennon still hasn’t given birth but she’s close, so y/n decided to head down there in case. 

as soon as she left, ben entered the house again, feeling guilty that he left without helping her with everything and deciding to finish building all the furniture. when he was finished, he sat in the middle of the room thinking about how life can suddenly change for two people as another one came into their lives. he snapped out of his thoughts when his phone started to ring, he answered it without looking at the caller ID and he got his with someone yelling in his ear.

“SHE’S HERE! BABY WAKES IS HERE! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!” y/n yelled before she hung up causing ben to quickly get up and run back down to his car and to the hospital. 

When ben arrived at the  hospital after stopping at the store to get a few stuff, also known as a giant teddy bear and a couple of balloons, he saw y/n pacing back and forth waiting for christian to come and get them. she saw that he had gotten the exact same teddy bear as her and she wanted to call him out but it was normal for people to do this kind of stuff and plus their goddaughter was just born so they didn’t want to fight at the moment. 

“i would yell at you right now and be mad and annoyed that you got the exact same thing as me, but since we are in a very public space i won’t.” she told him

“thanks, have they said anything?” ben asked her as he sat down

“no not yet, christian came out to tell me everything was fine though, they just needed to clean her up and do some tests, and then are allowed visitors.” “okay. i really can’t believe that they’re parents now. it’s really unbelievable, when i was growing up with christian, never would i think that guy would be mature enough to become a father, let alone a lawyer, and now he’s both. jesus it’s crazy.” ben said shaking his leg with excitement

“same here, lennon was basically the wild child in college but she somehow is a schoolteacher. everyone thought i would be the first to get married and have a kid, but wow how have the tables turned.” she said finally sitting down

“so why haven’t you settled down or have kids? if you’re comfortable answering?” ben asked her curious seeing that she seemed like the type to settle down by their age

“um, i guess i just haven’t found the right person yet. i thought my ex would be the one, but the douchebag cheated on me.” y/n told him looking down at her hands

“i’m sorry that happened. i also want to apologize for earlier this year when we tried to go on the date they set up. i really should’ve been more presentable and nicer-” ben started 

“and not take a booty call in front of me?” she said cutting him off

“and not take a booty call in front of you.” he finished laughing a bit

“it’s okay, really. i’m actually seeing someone and i think he’s great.” y/n told him

“that’s amazing, i’m really happy for you.”

“what about you? what happened to the brunette from their wedding?” y/n asked curiously

“nothing. she didn’t seem like my type-” ben began before getting cut off by christian telling them they could come in

“hey, you guys can come now.” 

ben and y/n followed christian to their room and they couldn’t be more excited. as they entered, they saw lennon in her bed cradling their daughter and the two godparents couldn’t have smiled bigger at the sight.

“hi guys, we want you to meet  charlotte lucia wakes, charlie for short” lennon told the two before continuing

“do you want to hold her?” she asked

“uh, yeah. she’s so small.” y/n said taking the baby from her best friend as christian pushed a chair for her to sit in, cradling her head

ben walked over to where y/n was and looked over her shoulder. she lightly ran her finger over the baby’s face before she stopped at her hand and charlie tightly wrapping y/n’s finger in her tiny hand.

“hi baby, i’m your auntie y/n, i’m going to make sure you have some fun in your life and not be trapped with your parents all the time.” she said in a whisper

ben looked at her holding the baby and wondered what it would be like to be a dad. he was snapped out of his daydream when y/n asked him if he wanted to hold her

“ben, hello, earth to ben?” 

“yeah? sorry what did you say?” ben asked snapping out of his thoughts

“i asked if you wanted to hold her. you okay?” she asked him

“yeah i’m fine, just thinking.” he told her as she gave charlie to him making sure he was holding her head

the next few hours consisted of the four adults talking about the process up until lennon had to feed charlie and ben and y/n decided it was a good time for them to leave seeing that it was already late and visiting hours were almost over.

the pair said their goodbyes to the new parents and headed on their way out. when they got to the entrance, y/n pulled out her phone to order an uber since she didn’t take her car when it happened. ben noticed and decided to offer her a ride home seeing that it was nighttime and no one knew if the driver ended up being a creep or not. 

“hey, do you want me to give you a ride?” ben asked her putting his hands in his pockets 

“you really don’t have to, i just ordered an uber. thanks for offering though.”

“it’s really no problem, you still live in the same place right?” ben asked still unsure if she had move in the past several months 

“i still live in the same place, yeah. are you sure though? i really don’t want to bother you.” she told him 

“you're not bothering me at all and it’s really nothing. just please let me do this one nice thing for once. i sort of don’t want something to happen to you because you never know what’s going to happen.”

“ben jones, are you going soft on me? fine. i’ll let you drive me home.” she asked him while crossing her arms before opening the uber app once again, canceling her ride.

“no, i’m not. i’m just trying to be a nice person, don’t think charlie wants to grow up without an aunt and only have an uncle.” ben told her trying to avoid eye contact

“yeah that’s why.” 

“okay enough let’s go.”

y/n laughed as she followed ben to where his car was. when they entered the car it felt a little awkward. why was ben all of a sudden being nice to her? 

The drive to her apartment was too quiet to both of their tastes. neither one of them knew how to strike up a conversation, not even how their day was before lennon gave birth but they knew that  already, or what they’ve been up to. they kept quiet until she broke the silence,

“so, how was your meeting today?”

“it was fine, just some acting stuff that’s all” ben answered before continuing

“how’s the bakery going?”

“it’s going good, thinking about renovating it a bit, you know changing the place up, trying new recipes”

“That sounds nice. hope you get to do it.” ben told her stopping at the light

“yeah, it does but it’s also expensive so it’s on a hold until i can figure out something.” y/n told him as she looked at the window

“you know i can always help, just have to ask. it’s no big deal.” ben said as he pulled up to her apartment complex seeing the familiar gates

“no. i can’t take advantage of you, ben. it’s your money and you do what you want with it. i know you’re trying to help but i really don’t need to be seen as a charity case. please don’t try to argue with me.” she told him in a pleading tone

“fine. i won’t help you then. goodnight y/n.” 

“i’m sorry. goodnight ben.” y/n told him, her voice barely in a whisper closing the door

as ben drove off, the two can’t help but feel a sense of guilt in the way they both acted to each other a few minutes ago. ben, because of the way he started to act after she rejected his offer, and y/n for the way she rejected his offer.

[spiderman-homecomeme]

day seven - pull-out p.2

ONLY ONE BED

A/N: Well, here we are friends. It’s time to say goodbye to spideychelle week. But really, when you think about it, isn’t the real spideychelle week the friends we made a long the way?

Okay, but for real, this has been so fun!! Both writing and seeing all the creations made by our talented fandom! Thank you again @spideychelleweek​ for putting this together <3 Till next year

There’s stuff in this fic that’s pretty new for me, as I’ve never written explicit smut before, and it’s something I’ve been thinking about trying for a while. So, I figured Spideychelle Week would be the best time! 

Without further procrastination on my part: enjoy some 6.3k of cow facts that will impress your friends, Peter being a mess, MJ being a mess, everyone’s a mess, smut, and ONLY. ONE. BED. 

Read here on AO3

--

“Hey, uh, MJ.”

Peter’s voice is hushed as he gently nudges her. 

She mumbles and stirs, blinking sleepily at him as she returns to a vague form of something akin to consciousness. 

“MJ.” His hand brushes her arm once more, leaving a certain warmth that she can’t quite place. “We’re here.” 

Sure enough, there’s a faint glow coming from the porch light ahead, though it’s entirely too bright for one o’clock in the morning. MJ sits up in her seat, yawning as she stretches her arms out in front of her. Her eyelids droop for another moment as she goes to unbuckle her seat belt, and she can just barely hear the opening of the driver’s side door as Peter climbs out of the old Volvo. 

“You don’t need me to carry you in do you?” Peter’s gently teasing voice cuts through her sleep-raddled mind.

Apparently he’s done being a weirdo. 

The thought of being held against her best friend’s chest flashes through her mind, fleeting, but it’s there alright. She shakes it away almost as quickly as it appears. She cracks an eye open, quirking an unimpressed brow at him as he leans against the door frame with a stupid little smirk on his face. 

“Fuck off,” she groans.

Something in the way he shakes his head with a snort of a nervous-sounding laugh causes her stomach to flip, filling with butterflies. 

Again, she simply brushes it off. 

But then, watching him pop open the trunk, his shirt riding up a little as he lifts the lid, she wonders if he’s thinking about the way their hands touched in the car as much as she is. It was a soft touch, warm, and in a way, inexplicably familiar. Though, as much as it made her heart seize, Michelle’s not sure why she didn’t just pull her hand away. 

Then again, Peter didn’t pull away either. 

It’s dangerous territory, this kind of thinking. “Do you think there’ll be any cows on the beach?” She asks through a yawn, a teasing lilt to her tone. 

Peter barely glances back at her, scoffing. “Shut up.”

A smirk pulls at her lips.

They grab their things from the car, MJ feeling as though she’s moving through quicksand as she gathers her bearings, trying to get a feel for her “land legs” after sitting for so long. The walk to the front porch feels like a half-marathon, and it feels even longer as Peter struggles to remember the door code to get in. 

Finally, after a nearly eight hour drive after class, they step inside the small beach cottage. 

The house is silent and dark, the only light coming from a lamp in the kitchenette. Ned and Betty must have gone to sleep hours ago, there being practically no sign of life in the house except for the few dishes in the sink. There’s a note on the counter, from Betty giving them instructions for the wifi, the tv, and of course, how to work the shower. 

MJ can feel herself once again falling closer and closer into the welcome embrace of sleep. She doesn’t waste any more time, nearly pushing past Peter as she heads for the open door to their bedroom. She can hear him laugh behind her, and she bites back her own smile when he calls out a soft, good-humored, “hey!” 

But as they both step into the room, they’re met with a rather strange surprise. 

When Betty had told them about this house, she had sworn up and down that there was room for four people to sleep. Two bedrooms, three beds. One for her and Ned, two for Peter and MJ. It was simple. 

Here, however, in this dark, moonlit room at one in the morning, there’s only one, full-sized bed. 

One bed, and a single, dark leather loveseat. 

The silence that falls between them almost crushes their shoulders under its weight. MJ can practically hear the collective overthinking they’re about to do. 

“You can take the bed—” They both say simultaneously.

Peter immediately cuts in. “Uh, you—you should take it,” he insists, his lips stretching into a sheepish grin as he scratches the back of his neck. 

“No, it’s fine,” MJ replies, setting her backpack down next onto the leather sofa, flinching at the way the fabric squeaks under the weight of her things. “I can take the couch. You take the bed.” 

“No, no,” Peter repeats back to her. “Seriously, I’m cool with it. Plus,” He continues, putting his own bag down next to hers and ignoring how the squeaky leather groans again. “Being Spider-Man, I’ve gotten pretty used to sleeping literally anywhere. Just one of my many talents,” he cracks a joke, his almost timid grin wreaking havoc on her insides. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve woken up on the side of a building.”

She quirks a doubting brow in his direction, though the corner of her lips twitch upward. 

“For real,” Peter pushes. “I’m cool with it. The super-speedy healing will help with the lumpy couch.”

Her lips purse as she lets out a quiet hum. She’s quiet for a moment, her brows pinching together. “It does make sense,” she finally nods. 

Peter smiles. 

“I mean, you are the short one,” she teases. 

“Hey!” He fights to get rid of his smile as he shoves her playfully. “Only by, like, two-inches.” 

Their shared laughter dies for a moment, and they’re left alone in the quiet, dim room. 

MJ wants to roll her eyes, even though she’s beginning to feel that same, creeping awkwardness from earlier. “Why—” She clears her throat, telling herself that it’s only so she can get the tired scratchiness out of her voice. “Why don’t we just both take it? We’re adults. And friends. We can share. Besides,” she pauses, her eyes drifting to the bed in question, a strange yet not entirely unwelcome heat rising to her cheeks. “It’s not a queen, but we could both fit.”

“No,” Peter spits out, perhaps a little too quickly. A faint blush falls across his face, and he coughs again, rocking back on his heels. He huffs out a breathy laugh. “No… You—You really don’t wanna share a bed… with… with me. I—” He chuckles. “I’m a huge—HUGE—blanket hog. And, like… I always try to cuddle whoever’s in bed with me—not that… I’m ever in bed with a lot of people… or I mean—random people. Just—��

Throughout his rambling, Michelle starts to really feel that now annoying, almost tingling warmth even more, the same one she’s been feeling since this damn trip started. She shifts on her feet, trying not to think about what it might feel like to have Peter’s body pressed up against her, snuggling up to get warm, in that very bed. 

It alarms her just how quickly she thinks that, yes, she would really like that. Very much.

“—I guess I get cold at night? I don’t know, every trip for decathlon in high school, Ned would always complain if he had to share a bed with me at one of the hotels.” 

His quiet laughter fills the room around them, and MJ can’t help but notice the correlation between that sound and the speed at which those stupid stomach-butterflies’ wings flap. 

“—I honestly don’t know where I get it? I mean, I slept with a teddy bear until I was thirt—”

“—Okay, fine!” MJ sets him free from his rambling, a tired laugh hiding under her words. “You take the couch. I’ll take the bed.”

Peter nods, lips pressing together into a thin, yet slightly triumphant smile as he goes to move the bags off of the loveseat. 

After a beat, he speaks again, chuckling quietly. “We made that a lot harder than it needed to be.”

MJ can’t help but let out a snort. “Yeah, probably.”

“Well, uh—” He coughs to hide the jittery waver of his voice. “I guess I’ll get the couch ready.”

“Sounds—sounds good,” Michelle exhales a sharp breath through her nose, a twitch of a grin appearing on her lips. She lamely throws a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll—I’ll just go get ready for bed. In the bathroom. Yeah,” she adds, toying with the loose threads at the hem of her t-shirt. 

He looks up from his bag, brows raised, eyes dopey and sleepy. “Oh, cool. Okay. I’ll—” He clears his throat again. “I’ll use it after you.”

“Cool,” she mutters without another glance, looking down at her feet as she grabs her toiletry bag and a new t-shirt and sleep shorts, before practically sprinting out of the room and into the hall. She doesn’t stop until she gets to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. Relief is the one thing she can feel in that instance, yet her breath is still stuck in her throat. Closing her eyes, she runs her hands over her weary, yet tingling face. 

God, what was wrong with her?

The icy floor of the bathroom tile does nothing to cool the warmth radiating from her head to her toes. With another quick, sharp exhale she moves to the sink, splashing her face with cold water. She looks up after a beat, staring—borderline, glaring—at herself in the mirror. 

Get it together, MJ, she thinks to herself, mouth setting in determination.

One weird road trip, one single hand touch in the car, one glimpse of abs, one bed, and one over active imagination; the key ingredients to begin the process of breaking Michelle Jones. 

But she won’t let that happen. No, she absolutely will not. Sure, Peter’s probably one of the best people she’s ever known, and sure, he’s funny—sometimes, mostly on accident—and sure, he’s got the body of an olympic gymnast, and she can’t get the image out of her mind that olympian bod wrapped around her in bed, but none of that means anything. Anything at all. 

None of it’s relevant to how she feels right now. And none of that changes anything about how this night—this trip—is going to go. 

Yes, maybe she’s had this stupid crush on her stupid best friend for some stupid amount of time. 

But again. 

It’s not relevant here. 

She’s just had a weird day. That’s it. She’s tired. She needs to sleep. 

Forcing any and all thoughts concerning the boy in the next room, she starts her nightly routine; brushing her teeth, washing and moisturizing her face, the basics, not rushing anything. She takes her time changing her clothes, perhaps a little longer than normal. But again, she tells herself it’s only because she’s tired—not at all that she’s avoiding going back to the room where Peter is. When she runs out of things to do to procrastinate going back, she brings herself to the mirror again, staring at herself with almost disappointment. 

But then, she steels herself. She didn’t need to be freaking out right now. Peter’s just a person. He’s just her best friend. They’ve had plenty of sleepovers before, and this is no different. And besides, they’re sleeping in two separate places, so really, all of this inner turmoil is pointless. Nothing’s going to happen.

And really, why should she be freaking out about the guy who read her cow facts for a solid thirty minutes of their trip?

With a solid, resolute nod, lips pressed tightly together, she exits the bathroom and goes back down the hall, opening their bedroom door without a second thought. 

Big mistake.

Big BIG mistake.

She really should have waited maybe five more seconds, because when the door swings open, Peter’s standing there in just his boxers, his head caught in his t-shirt as he pulls it on, chest and abs just out and ready to go. 

Big mistake—that absolutely doesn’t mean anything. 

It suddenly becomes very confusing to MJ why the Brant’s would have the thermostat set at eighty degrees. 

Michelle decides that there’s a very interesting spot on the wall just above his head. 

Peter pulls the shirt the rest of the way on, his eyes widening when he sees his friend just standing there. “Oh, uh, hey.” A not-cute-at-all unforgiving blush rises to his cheeks, spreading to the very tips of his ears. 

They both huff out an awkward laugh.

“Uh—” Michelle finally meets his gaze, finding it damn near impossible to go back to her spot on the wall now. “Bathroom’s—bathroom’s open.”

The chuckle that comes out of him is breathy. “Cool. I’ll just—go use it, then.”

“Yeah.”

She waits until the door closes behind him to smack herself on the forehead. Groaning, she flops herself on the bed, covering her face again. 

These feelings have always been here, she knows that, she’s not dumb; but they’ve never been this intense and the way he’s been acting all day and in the past fifteen minutes hasn’t been much help at all. She wonders if he’s been so strange because he’s feeling those things, too. She’s seen that guy hopelessly in love, and it’s always looked kind of like what he’s doing tonight, but…

This feels like a whole new level of loser.

Truly, she has no idea how she’s going to get through the night. 

But maybe—

No. 

No. She’s not going to think about this any more. She’s going to go to bed before he gets back. That way, she doesn’t have to talk to him or see him. She’ll sleep, and then they can just hang out tomorrow. With Ned and Betty. Not alone. 

As long as their not alone, she’ll be fine. 

She gets up to shut the overhead light off before turning the bedside lamp on, passing a brief glance to the loveseat turned bed across from her. Shaking her head, she pulls back the blankets and settles into her own bed.

When Peter returns, the room is dim, Michelle scrolling mindlessly on her phone. She wonders if she appears a little too casual for comfort, but she shakes that thought away as the door clicks shut behind him. 

Peter’s silent as he settles into the couch, the leather groaning and squealing loudly under his movement. The noise cuts through the air, causing them both to freeze for a moment. He grins sheepishly as he nestles further under his blanket, his face becoming only partly visible. 

Michelle doesn’t say anything as she turns to the bedside lamp and switches it off. 

The room becomes blanketed in dark, and it takes a moment for their eyes to adjust. The air feels heavy; soul-crushing, even. It’s deathly quiet, and Michelle’s almost a hundred percent positive that Peter can hear her breathing and the way her heart’s beating like an out-of-time snare drum. 

She closes her eyes, willing her mind and body to return to that feeling in the car, before she started having this weird, sudden existential crisis. And to some degree, it starts to work. She counts, starting at one, hoping that having her mind focus on something other than the current situation might help. Her mind starts to drift, her counting switching to random, sleep-induced thoughts, and her body starts to feel heavy, sinking further into the fluffy mattress—

EER-ER-EEEP

But she’s startled, yanked back to reality by the loud squeaking of Peter tossing and turning on the loveseat.

Once again, the deafening silence returns, but Michelle doesn’t say anything, annoyed, but still electing to just ignore it. All he’s doing is getting comfortable. No reason to attack him for that. 

It’s quiet again, and for the second time, she closes her eyes, taking in a deep breath. Minutes go by, and she’s finding it harder and harder to get that feeling back. The counting from one doesn’t work this time, her brain immediately crossing to the Peter lane that’s always there. The thoughts and feelings from earlier in the day and in the bathroom flood right back—especially seeing him mid-putting-a-shirt-on—and it suddenly becomes too hot to be under so many blankets.

Trying not to let even the tiniest bit of frustration show, she flips onto her back, staring up at the ceiling, subtly scooting a little closer to the wall to be as far away from her problem as possible. Drawing in a long, deep breath, she closes her eyes again. 

It’s quiet again, the silence that fills the room bringing the mood back to what might be serene if she weren’t so stressed out. She focuses on her breathing, on slowing her heart beat to a semi-normal rate, pushing any and all thoughts about Peter Parker out of her head—

EP-EEEEER-EP

EEER-EEP

Peter groans from his place on the couch as he turns on his side, cutting the silence of the room with his restlessness. 

There’s a moment where she thinks that he’s finished, that he’s finally settled.

ER-EP

And instantly, the moment is gone.

“Peter,” she almost hisses. 

“Sorry!” Peter whispers back. “I can’t—ugh… get comfortable. It’s like there’s a giant metal rod just… Stuck right in my back.”

She doesn’t say anything in return, sighing as she turns over on her side, facing away from him. If anything, as annoyed at his noisy fidgeting as she is, she can see the silver lining—being angry at him is a nice distraction from whatever the hell the other feeling is—illness, pining, lust, she doesn’t know. At least now she can just focus on how much of a pain in the ass he’s being. 

She does feel sorry for him, of course. The couch hadn’t looked all that comfortable when they walked in, and a loveseat isn’t a good option for anyone, no matter how tall or super-powered they are. It would have been much easier for them both if he had agreed to just share with her. It’s not like it’s that big of a deal. 

(It is.)

It’s not like all she’d be able to think about would be his hand next to hers, the warmth of his body lulling her into a homey comfort. 

Nothing like that at all. 

Feelings for her best friend aside, she’d be more than able to share a full-sized bed—that’s really meant for only one person—with him. But then, she thinks about how much—how quickly, he’d rejected the idea, and then she deflates. He’d been so defensive, so insistent. So—

EEEEEEEE-EEEP

Michelle can hear him suck in a breath, bracing himself. 

“Oh, my GOD.” She whisper-shouts into the pitch black room, grabbing her pillow and pushing her face into it. 

“I’m sorry!” Peter matches her tone, sitting up before throwing himself back against the cushions.

No. She will not listen to this all night. She’s had enough. 

If’s she going to get any sleep at all—

Peter sits up again, listening as MJ starts rustling around on the bed. “What—What are you doing?” He asks carefully. 

“Scooting over.” She snaps.

“What? Why?”

“Just get in the bed, Parker.”

“Wha—what?” Even in the dark of the room, Michelle can practically see the blush fall over his entire face. 

She scoots closer to the wall, huffing indignantly. “Because I don’t wanna have to listen to that all night. I’d like to sleep at some point, if that’s okay with you.”

It takes a moment for Peter to respond, and at first, Michelle thinks—worries—that she’s taken a step too, far.

But then, the couch squeaks again as Peter stands hesitantly. 

“...Are you—Are you sure?” He asks, his voice coming closer, her heart leaping into her throat. 

Despite the rush of blood roaring in her ears, she holds her ground. “God, yes! Just get over here already,” she whispers again, opening the blanket for him to get in. 

She can hear the hesitation in his silence, but she’s surprised when the bed dips beside her. His hand brushes her arm as he crawls under the blanket and settles into the mattress. When he settles in, he keeps a respectable distance, clinging as close to the side as possible. It’s certainly a tight fit, even with both of them as close to their respective ends of the bed as they can possibly get, and although he’s almost falling off the edge, she can still feel the his warmth.

And then, they both lie there for what seems like hours, each holding their breath, neither one daring to speak, neither one truly settled.

Michelle tries moving, turning away from him, though it doesn’t help much. He’s still too close; she can still feel him right next to her. 

It’s not fair, she thinks. It’s really not.

Though she’s not all that surprised; she shouldn’t be. This is exactly what the both of them had been avoiding. 

Michelle shifts again before sighing in defeat. 

“What’s wrong?” Peter asks as he turns on his side, his quiet, soft, sleepy voice so incredibly close. She shivers. 

“Can’t sleep,” she says, nestling further into her pillow. 

On instinct, she turns back around to face him. 

Perhaps a mistake. 

His face is mere inches from hers, her breath catching in her throat. If the lights were on, she’s sure she could count every freckle on his nose. He quickly pulls back to give her another centimeter of space. “Sorry,” he whispers, the sheepish grin on his face audible. 

“It’s fine,” She breathes out, albeit a bit shakily, as she rolls over onto her back again. 

Her hand falls to the middle of the bed, but she yanks it back when her pinky brushes his. “Sorry,” she says, huffing out a laugh at herself. 

Peter rolls onto his stomach, his face turning to her as he rests his head on his pillow. “You’re good,” he mumbles groggily, his eyelids drooping with every passing second. “This is so much comfier.” 

She smiles, a warm fluttering in her stomach as she looks over at him. His breathing deepens slowly, and soon, she can tell that he’s fast asleep. 

He could fall asleep anywhere, he said. 

Anywhere except for a loveseat. 

Sleep doesn’t seem to want to come as easily to Michelle. She still tosses and turns, feeling herself drifting in and out of the first stage, never fully asleep and never fully awake, staying in that torturous limbo in between for what feels like a whole-ass eternity. 

When a solid-ish form of rest finally comes, it’s gone before she has a chance to realize. She opens her eyes again, seeing the hint of the beginning of morning light through the single window in their room. Craning her neck up from her pillow she looks over Peter’s sleeping form and at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 

4:48 AM. 

She falls back against her pillow with a frustrated huff. 

“You okay?”

If she weren’t so sleep deprived, Peter’s soft voice so suddenly awake and beside her would have made her jump. Instead, she passes him a fleeting glance before rubbing her one of her eyes with a knuckle. 

“Can’t sleep,” she says again, just as she had earlier. 

Peter rolls on his side to face her fully, his arm tucked under his pillow, his lips pressed into a thoughtful line. “Do you want more cow facts?”

Her laugh cracks, voice worn from a lack of sleep. “No. No. I’m good. Thanks, though.”

“I’m gonna get you more cow facts.”

“Peter—”

But he’s already reaching for his phone on the table, turning back to face her after typing into his google search. His face glows blue from the light, and she can’t help the way her lips tug upward at his look of fierce concentration. 

“Okay, you can pick—”

She stares up at the ceiling. 

“—27 Amazing Cow Facts That Will Impress Your Friends, or—get ready for this—”

She will not look at him. 

“Are you ready?” He doesn’t wait. “10 ‘Udderly’ Fascinating Facts About Cows.”

“Peter—” She warns, her grin hiding nothing, as she turns on her side to face him. 

“Pick!” He insists, his quiet voice full of mischief and excitement. “You gotta.”

Her eyes narrow. “Neither.”

“Okay, we’re going punny,” He decides for her. “Did you know that cows cause more deaths than sharks per year? Crazy right? Where’s Cow Week then, huh?” He scrolls further upon earning no response besides a deadpan stare. “You ever wondered why Cows moo? Well, these moos are the pick-up lines of the cattle world. Bulls and cows let each other know that they are ready to, in the words of a bovine Marvin Gaye, get it on.”

“I hate you.”

“Cows can see three-hundred-sixty degrees. Kinda like chameleons—HEY!”

Before he can even finish the fun fact, her hand shoots out to yank his phone out of his hands. His reflexes are much fast, and he holds it away over the edge of the bed.

“No more cow facts!” MJ hisses as she reaches over him, her arm laying across his chest, in an attempt to snatch his phone and throw it across the room. “No more!”

Peter lets out a breathy laugh, and it’s then, when he just drops his phone, that she realizes how close their faces are; his nose just barely brushing hers, his breath fanning her face. They stay like that a moment, her hand unconsciously smoothing over the fabric of his t-shirt, unable to tear her gaze from his.

Almost instantly she pulls back, muttering out a sorry. 

But she doesn’t fully move away, and neither does he. 

There’s a moment, one where it all just suddenly clicks—where it all falls neatly into place, like that last, perfect piece in Tetris—and it’s when she finally lets herself look right at him; when she sees that tiny, shy smirk on his face; when she sees that unspoken tint to his eyes as he looks at her.

“Do you, uh—” He swallows. “Wanna hear another one?” 

There’s nothing she can do to stop herself from smiling a soft smile.

“No.”

Against any of her better judgement, she leans in.

The first brush of her lips against his is barely there. It’s unbelievably soft, almost as if she’s dreaming. Peter startles at the touch, and she pulls back. He stares at her, mouth parted as he looks at her, speechless. A nervous laugh bubbles up out of him as he tentatively brings a hand to brush her wild curls behind her ear, staying there. 

“You kissed me?” He asks dumbly.

She nods, mentally reminding herself to breath. 

And that’s all it takes.

A split-second later, he’s crashing his lips against hers, sighing in relief at the contact, his hand moving to cup her jaw. And it’s a feeling that’s everything to her. For something that’s been so hyped up in her mind for so long, she feels delighted shock in finding that the feel of his mouth moving with hers far exceeds any of her previous expectations. 

There’s a faint tremble to her hand as she cards it through his stupidly soft hair, gathering the strands, giving an unconscious, yet gentle tug. Peter groans, the sound sending a tidal wave of electricity through her. 

And truly, she thinks she could live in this moment for forever, cheesy as it sounds. 

His hand moves to her neck, bringing her even closer to him as tilts his head, deepening the kiss. With his free hand, he grips at her waist—her old t-shirt bunching as he pulls himself up to lean over her—before moving down to smooth circles into her exposed hip. 

A harsh, short breath escapes her as she grips onto his black shirt, her other hand slipping underneath it to smooth across his stomach. 

“I’ve thought about this for a long time,” Peter murmurs against her lips when he pulls back. “Like—a long time.” His laugh is breathy. 

Hers is, too. Almost moreso. “Yeah,” she grins. “Me, too.”

The way his smile stretches, reaching all the way up to his eyes just might kill her, she thinks for a split-second, and she comes to her own rescue by pulling his face back down to hers. 

She can feel his smile widen through the kiss as he rolls them over, her legs coming naturally to wrap around his waist as he lays on top of her. He squeezes her hip playfully, his hand ghosting  across the waistband of her shorts. At her sharp intake of breath, he retracts his hand quickly, as if he’s been burned, mumbling out a “Sorry” against her cheek as he moves to press kisses along the column of her throat. 

Michelle feels herself laugh breathily, still unable to bite back her smile. “It’s… It’s fine.” She takes his hand back to it’s place on her stomach, encouraging him to continue, her body screaming in celebration. 

But he pulls away, looking at her inquisitively, the hand she’d moved coming back to rest on her arm. “We don’t have to do anything—”

“—I know we don’t,” she cuts him off, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she grins up at him. “But I want to.”

Somehow, someway, his grin seems to get even bigger, and he tries twisting his mouth in an effort to hide it. “Me, too.”

Without another word, she pulls him back down, kissing him soundly, his hand still resting against the flat of her stomach. Again, he deepens the kiss, a hand reaching to cradle the back of her head as his lips mould perfectly against hers. His tongue shyly brushes against her lips, and she readily parts them. 

Her breathing grows ragged once more, and unconsciously, she rolls her hips upward, moaning softly into his mouth at the feeling of his hardness briefly pressing against her. He holds himself up with his free hand, muscles tensing as he bites back a groan. Her smile against his lips grows, and she does it again, earning the same reaction. 

He huffs out a nervous chuckle, his kissing growing gentler as his other hand comes once again to the waistband of her soft sleep shorts. Slowly, almost too slowly, his hand dips under her shorts, and he freezes again. 

Michelle’s ready to pull away and ask if he’s alright before he starts to just barely touch her.

Her hips jerk slightly, and she laughs quietly when he pulls away from her, looking down at her with curious concern before cupping her through her cotton boyshorts. One of his fingers traces a line down the middle of the soft fabric; it’s a faint touch, almost ghostly, but it’s more than enough to make her face burn hot. Almost experimentally, he presses down harder, his strokes smooth as he starts to rub slowly, the corner of his lip quirking upward at the tiny gasp that comes out of her. 

He matches the pace with their breathing, his movements slow and deliberate. Pulling her in for another quick, yet sound kiss, he removes his hand. Instinctively, she raises her hips, her own shaking hands moving to remove her sleep shorts. She pushes them off, though she struggles getting them past her thigh, Peter swooping in to move them down the rest of the way. 

“Teamwork,” he jokes lamely.

“Great—ah,” She responds, her voice catching when he returns his hand it’s earlier ministrations. “Great job.”

“Thanks,” he says with a small smirk. 

This time, his strokes are faster, and he adds just the tiniest bit of pressure. Michelle’s breathing gets heavier, less steady, and all she can do is close her eyes and focus on just how fucking good it feels. 

And also, how god damn frustrating it is that he’s still not actually touching her yet. 

She can feel Peter’s smug smile against her neck when she lets out the quietest whine and she almost speaks up, ready to tell him off—joking of course—until she feels his hand finally dip past the navy blue lace trim. 

Fuck.

His fingers hover above her silky skin before coming down slowly. They both let out shaky breaths as he touches her—finally touches her. His movement is still tentative as he goes to tease her entrance, collecting her wetness and swirling it over her clit, the slight tremor in his hand giving his nerves away. Unconsciously, her hand comes to rest on his, guiding him softly into a gentle rhythm. He murmurs something incoherent before capturing her lips into a tender kiss. 

He repeats his movements, dipping his finger further into her each time. 

“Oh—” A soft moan escapes her when he inserts a second finger, an uncontrollable grin pulling at his lips at the sound. 

His fingers pump and in out of her, curling, speeding up when he notices how her breathing matches, his eyes trailing down to her lips. Michelle can hear her heart thundering in her ears, her breathing growing ragged as he picks up his pace. 

But before she can feel herself getting closer to that point, Peter removes his fingers, sitting back on his heels as he rests between her knees. The whine that comes out of her at the loss of contact would almost be embarrassing if she wasn’t so annoyed. She glares up at him, though her gaze softens when he glances down briefly, then back up again, his eyes questioning and earnest. 

“Can—” He clears his throat. “Can I—?”

It takes her a moment to register what he’s asking, but then it hits her. 

Oh, fuck. 

“Yes!” She answers a little too quickly, disguising her excitement under a cough. “I mean—” she replies slowly, lowering her voice. “Yes.”

He grins easily at her, the expression making her heart seize. 

His smile fades as he leans down, his fingers tracing the lace trim of her boyshorts, pulling them down slowly, leaving them to hang off of her left leg. Before she can make any comment—perhaps one about how he half-asses everything, though perhaps, she thinks, it’s not the time for that—he dips his head down quickly, his lips meeting hers.

Michelle shudders, and her breathing hitches as he flattens his tongue before licking a long stripe up the length of her center, the fingers of his left hand digging into her thighs. Instinctively, her hands fly to his hair, wrapping themselves in the soft curls, smoothing them down as he sucks on her clit, tracing smooth circles with his tongue. He moves his free hand back up to her hips, curling two of his fingers into her once again. 

After a beat, she lays back, allowing herself to become lost in the feeling, letting Peter coax soft moans from her lips, unable to stop her body from tensing, her insides twisting in white hot pleasure. He quickens his pace, and she has to cover her mouth to stifle her moans. He glances up at her, a sight that’s almost too dizzying when she dares a quick glance in return. She feels that same heat pooling in her stomach again, a wavy smile tugging at her lips as she feels herself getting closer and closer. 

Her thighs twitch, tensing around Peter’s head, and for a moment, she worries that her hair pulling is a little rough—which doesn’t seem to be a problem, given the moans that Peter gives when she tugs and pulls, and frankly, it’s hard to focus on anything else with how she’s teetering back and forth on the edge. With another swipe of his tongue, Michelle gasps, bucking her hips upward, her fist in his hair holding him in just that right spot. 

The coil tightens, the heat burning, and with added pressure to her clit, she feels herself flutter and spasm around his fingers as she releases, back arching as he whimpers under her breath. Peter pulls back, his breathing as ragged as hers, wiping his mouth before crawling up to meet her. 

She doesn’t wait for him to ask before pulling him down, capturing his lips into a heated kiss, sighing as she tastes herself on him. 

For a moment, there’s nothing else said between them as Peter pulls away, laying on his side next to her, the only sound in the room being their labored breaths. 

“Go team,” he jokes. 

With a playful eye roll, still breathless, MJ goes to pull the blanket back over them after the AC kicks in again, sending a shiver through her. “Go team,” she says back. 

As soon as she’s back against the pillow, he moves in again, his hands moving to cup her face as he plants a soft kiss on her lips that makes her heart flutter. Her hand sneaks under the blanket as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss once more. The surprised grunt the comes out of Peter as she dips her hand under the waistband of his boxers, grabbing his dick, causes a faint, tired laugh to bubble up out of her. 

He kisses her back eagerly, laying them back against the pillows as he brings a hand to rest on her naked hip. 

It’s such a happy moment, Michelle thinks. Her heart feels as if it’s soaring in her chest, her cheeks warm and glowing. She likes this loser. So much. And she’s unbelievably glad that he feels the same. 

Peter groans, feeling her soft hand tighten around him. His strangled moan is cut off. “Oh, God—”

And, perhaps in what they’ll remember as the ultimate, literal cockblock of all time from a Certified Moment Killer, Ned Leeds, their dear, dear friend, barges into the room. 

“—Guys! Betty and I are gonna go watch the sunrise! Wanna—?”

He freezes, seeing his two best friends huddled together.

“—What’s going on guys? Why are you… in the same bed…?”

It’s in that moment that Michelle’s exceedingly glad she put the blanket back on so that they’re friend can remain blissfully unaware. 

It’s also in that moment that she promptly takes her hand off of Peter’s dick.

Peter and MJ exchange glances 

“...There was only one bed. And the couch sucked.”

Ned stares at them, his brows pinched together. He points a thumb at the loveseat in question, his expression seeming to state the obvious.

“You know that’s a pull-out couch right?”

[janeyseymour]

Anne Boleyn: Captain of the Chaos Squad- pt9

pt 1. pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5. pt 6. pt 7. pt 8. 

Title: Secret Talents

The other queens were getting quite worried about their second queen. She had tendencies to leave the house announced and come back hours later, but it was happening more and more often lately. 

“Do you think we should confront her?” Jane, ever the mum, asked.

“I think if she was doing anything bad, she would have at least told me,” Kat pointed out. “She does all of these crazy things and can’t keep her mouth shut. Just like that time that she got arrested for public urination and none of you found out until right now when I told you.”

“She what?” Cathy looked at the pink haired queen with wide eyes. 

“I didn't tell any of you that.”

“That is something we will be talking about later Kat. For now, what should we do?” Jane shook her head.

“Howard’s right Seymour. If she was doing anything terribly wrong, she would tell us,” Anna piped up. 

“I mean, as long as she doesn’t end up dead, I don't really care what the gremlin does,” Aragon replied casually. 

“Lina, that’s not the right response,” Jane mumbled. “I think one of us should confront her.”

“You should,” Cathy said. When Jane shot her a look, she answered, “Well you’re mum for a reason.” 

“Kat, what if you talked to Annie?”

“Talked to Annie about what?” Anne walked in the front door. Immediately, all eyes landed on the blonde. 

“Uh, hello? What are we worried about this time?” 

When the looks towards the third queen only continued, Jane spoke up. “Anne, we’re worried about all the time you’ve spent out of the house lately. We know you go out a lot, but it seems like you’re never home anymore. We just want to make sure you aren’t doing anything stupid,” she lowered her voice a bit. “Like getting arrested for public urination.”

“Kat!” Anne whined. “You told them?” 

“I didn’t mean to!” The fifth queen’s arms raised. 

“Annie, if you’re doing anything stupid, we at least want to know so if something happens, we can come rescue you,” Jane tried again. 

“I’m not doing anything stupid!” When the rest of the queens just stared at her in disbelief, she opened the door again and gestured for them to follow. The green queen made her way to the car and opened up the driver’s door. None of the queens got in with her. 

“If you want to see what I’ve been doing, you’ll get in with me.” No queen made a move. 

“Oh come on! I’ve driven myself to the place and back so many times, and not once have I died doing it!” 

“There’s a first for everything,” Aragon muttered to her goddaughter. The six queens got into the car, and when Anne drove for about five minutes before stopping at a gymnastics center, the queens were more than confused. Silently, the second queen got out of the car and held the door open for the other queens to follow. 

“This is what I’ve been doing,” Anne sighed. 

“I didn’t know you knew anything about gymnastics?”

“Well, I didn’t until about 3 months ago. I was just looking for a way to get out some of my energy. Turns out, I’m kind of okay at it.”

“Show us what you can do!” Jane, now knowing that Anne was doing something perfectly legal, although a bit dangerous, was excited to see what the second queen was capable of. 

“Which event?”

“Show me the tumbling!” Kat grinned from ear to ear. Watching the floor routines from the Olympics were fascinating. 

Anne was able to execute an almost perfect round-off, back handspring, layout with a full twist in it. 

“How in the purgatory did you learn how to do that?” Anna shouted. “I want in!” 

“I apparently just have a knack for it? The coach told me that it takes most people years to learn how to do that. I learned in about 2 months.” 

“More! More!” Cathy cheered. It was kind of cool seeing the different things the queens took up. 

And so, for the next hour or so, the queens watched Anne tumble on the floor, balance on the four inch beams, fly over the vault table, and swing around the bars. 

“Do they hold classes or something? I seriously wanna learn,” Anna exclaimed. 

“Yeah, they hold classes on Saturday mornings for adults, no experience needed.”

That Saturday, all six queens went to the class. To say that some of the other queens were not gifted with the many different things gymnasts required was an understatement.