#sorry 4 drawing this for hours after class instead of my assignment i have to hand in at 2pm tomorrowww in my defence its mostly doneee

[heartorbit]

🩷💛💚💜

[chouchen]

Hi, I’ve been a self-taught artist for almost 6 or 7 years now. I used to teach a friend of mine how to draw and the day came when we graduated, and we moved to the same school but took different curriculums. They took an arts curriculum while I took science or what we also call sci-high here. I didn’t care about the science curriculum but still took it bc it was really difficult to get in there and I got lucky, it basically meant that your one of the smart kids, the tuition was free, and I won’t have to buy money for art materials. I actually suggested to just take arts instead, but my parents said that I should just take science because I might get more possible career choices if I took said science curriculum instead of arts where they said I might not make much money. I was like “ok”. I just went with the flow since I’m not sure exactly what I want to do with my future and just want to try things out and see what will work for me.

I took the science curriculum and went through hell bc the teachers just threw projects at us one after another and then there was the stress and pressure of not being good enough. At the end of the school year, I got grades that were high enough to enter sci-high again since the teachers pitied me but I gave up since I experienced so much mental health issues due to it. I transferred to another school which had easier projects and it was more relaxed. I finally got back to drawing bc I had more free time and I experienced normal stuff like art block, lack of motivation but I eventually bounce back one way or another. I returned to social media instead of just logging in and asking my classmates about the assignments. I was scrolling for a little while and I saw my old friend’s story and checked it out. It was a picture of a drawing of the head of the statue of David by Michelangelo and it was beautiful. It was realistic and amazing and beyond anything I can ever actually manage to draw myself. After the awe, you can guess that I got jealous of them. I only draw simple anime-esque art and I can barely draw anything beautifully without spending hours on it and using any sort of reference. I immediately regretted the decision of not going for an art curriculum.

I want to go to an art school but here are my problems:

1. I actually am satisfied with my current school

2. Money for buying art materials. I’m broke.

3. I’m not actually sure if I’ll become fully dedicated to drawing if I enter or if I’ll just lose motivation and feel like I’m being forced to draw

4. I actually like not being told when or what I’m supposed to draw. Although this also causes some disadvantages for me since I have nothing to stop me from procrastinating.

There are probably more reasons but these are the ones I can think of right now.

I don’t have any plans for the future, but I want to make my own webtoon one day but I’m not sure if I want to be a full time artist. Due to one of the classes in my current school, I developed an interest to computer programming. I started watching some lectures about it like harvard’s cs50 but I stopped watching them since I had to focus on school. I’m still not sure if I want to take that as a career. I’m starting to get worried because soon enough I’ll have to choose whether I’d go for an arts or technology strand.

tl;dr just in case this might too tiring to read

I had a friend who I used to teach how to draw, we graduated then entered the same school. They took an arts curriculum, but I took another. I transferred to another school after one school year bc the curriculum I took was difficult. One day, I looked at my friend’s art and theirs looked much better than anything I can draw. I got jealous now I wish I went for arts. I want to now transfer to an arts school but I’m not sure if I’ll be dedicated to it since I don’t know if I want to go full time artist as a career.

Sorry if there’s any grammatical errors or if it’s a bit confusing, it’s after midnight here and I’m really sleepy. Also I’m really sorry if it’s too long and if I went off track in the middle. Thanks for taking your time to read this (´∀｀)♡

What a story ! Well first of all your parents are right about art studies haha.

Now i'm having a bit of trouble to situate you in a "study scale",,,, from the info you give i can assume you're either in 11-12th grade of in 2 year of college which are very different. To answer i'm going to assume you're in 12th grade since it will be easier for me to explain my pov.

1. You're happy in your new school and that's good, you also say you like programming. I think the best for you would be to continue in that way and get your degree.

2. Honestly the supplies on themselves are not that expensive, it's the fact that you have to re-re-rebuy them every month that makes it a problem. Here we don't use all art supply known to man, we focus on like 3 tools of our choice and that's IT. If you want to draw for yourself or join art school i really recommend following this advice. Also depending on the art school, you can get a discount (here we have 20%).

3. That's your choice to make, now i don't know how it works for your country but here art college is not a place where you draw all and anything. You need to have a specific idea of what you want to work on so you don't feel forced to work. You want to draw but what exactly ? For who ?

4. That's totally understandable but works are projects where you are still free enough to do as you please. As one of my teacher said " If there's no rules against it, then you're free to do whatever".

Now starting a webtoon is a good idea, you can still do art and even get money from it and still do your science degree. Art can be a hobby you have on the side and not your work. You can open a shop, commissions etc.

And if you want to mix programming and art, i recommend you check out what technical art in game design is.

I hope this helps, sorry if they are any confusions,,, ^^ wishing you good luck in your studies !

[harrypotter-imaginess]

A/N: I just want to say, for my OG readers that have been reading this since I first posted the headcanon list last year, I love and appreciate y’all so much!! If you want, since this is a long term project, I can add you to the tag list if you like :)

Also Letter commission’s are open until 3/10, so if your interested, price and info are here. 

Based on this Headcanon list (x) : Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! <This is Part 4!>

You sigh, eyes glancing back at your watch.

Maybe it’s off?

You wouldn’t put it past Fred to screw up the time on your watch just so you would show up an hour early to your class, wondering if it was always this dark at eight in the morning.

But if Fred did mess with your watch, how does that explain everyone else? You turn to your right and look at a group of third and fourth years scattered around the room. Surely he couldn’t have changed the time in everyone’s watch.

Though at this point you know better than to assume anything is impossible for Fred Weasley, especially if he’s able to get George on board with his pranks.

You sigh, eyes sweeping over the room again. The chatting has long died down, now it looks like all those late nights in the common room playing exploding snap are finally beginning catching up.

Especially when the class was missing the particularly loud and somewhat entertaining antics of the one and only, Gilderoy Lockhart. It wasn’t that it was particularly fun to watch his nonsensical lessons or anything- but at least it was something to watch. And as long as you were barley competent, you could get by just fine on the “pop quizzes” he had. Though they were really more like magazine quizzes about how well you knew him.

Plus he was pretty good looking, though you would rather die than admit that to Fred or George.

Speaking of your favorite pair of doppelgängers-

You turn to look at your side, the two chair next to you on the long bench are vacant. Well, it’s not like it’s totally unusual for them to skip class. You can count on one hand how many times they’ve been excited to come to defense against the dark arts this year. But-

But... they usually invite you when they do decide to play hooky.

Maybe they didn’t invite you because you’re always persuading them to come to class instead. ‘You don’t want a howler from your Mum now do you?’ You would say, pushing them towards the class.

Maybe they just don’t think you’re fun to be around anymore. No, no, they’re your friends- you can’t start thinking like that, there must be a good reason why-

“Hey (Y/N/N)” George squeezes past you, plopping into the chair next to you with a soft rattle.

His hair’s sticking every which way, his robe is crooked, and his tie isn’t even tied, just hanging limply along his neck. 

“You don’t even have your bag George” you hiss, did he finally get into a fist fight with Draco Malfoy? You’ve told them both not to think too hard about how he called you-

“Wait where’s Fred?” You look to the door, expecting to see a messy head of fire red hair walk through the door, sporting bruises and maybe a grin like his black eye is a gold medal.

But instead, there’s a familiar head of golden hair standing in the doorway. It’s Gilderoy Lockhart. There’s no doubt about it, the image of him is perfect. Of course it’s your professor.

Of course it is.

But there’s something about the way he carries himself? Like he’s still getting used to having legs so short. The way his smile seems a little more...mischievous than usual, that twinkle of absolute delight in those strangely familiar eyes.

“Oh no” you mumble, but George grins from beside you.

“I’m not going to be needing my bag, and neither are you” George whispers in your ear, and you turn to look at him.

They didn’t.

“Good afternoon class, sorry I’m late! I was admiring myself in one of my thirty mirrors and the time just...got away from me.” ‘Professor Lockhart’ says flashing his class the most condescending smile you have ever seen.

“That’s not a lie you know, we did find him admiring himself in the mirror” George whispers, your face is in your hands but you don’t need to look at him to know he’s got a pleased grin on his face.

“It’s why it was so easy to knock him out and shove him into the teachers lounge- he never even saw it coming”

Well at least they didn’t shove him into a broom closet.

“Now class, I would like you to write a list of things you love about me-“ there’s a collective groan and the rustle of parchment but neither you and George don’t move a muscle.

“Four feet at least!” Fred, in his Lockhart-skin-suit bellows, which earns another collective groan from the rest of the class.

“So what, did you draw the short stick, why aren’t you up there?” You ask jerking your head towards Fred, it looks like the more fun part of the prank honestly. It also seems like the sweetest m form of revenge after old Gildy gave you three detention last week for showing up late to class, but you won’t mention that.

George only shrugs.

Honestly ninety percent of this situation was Fred’s poor impulse control. One second they were running late to class, and George was worrying about getting detention because if he has to scrub all those awards for Filch again he won’t be able to hold a quil - and the next thing he knows he’s carrying Lockhart by his feet into the teachers lounge.

“He’s the showman, I’m just the side kick.” George shrugs, it’s been that way since they were kids. Fred would come up with an idea and George would follow his lead.

Not that he’s upset about it. It’s always interesting, he’s hasn’t been bored in years. Still, he can’t help but wonder if they didn’t share the same face, would he and Fred be as close as they are now?

Or would he be just as easily replaced, most likely by Lee Jordan. Well Ron might make a more susceptible accomplice, would anyone do-

“And where would our fearless leader be without his trustworthy sidekicks?” You say, a hint of a smile twitching at the corner of your lips. Your voice drawing George out of his thoughts.

“Probably in detention” You muse, that or jail, because technically they assaulted their professor, and that’s got to be a serious offense.

George laughs next to you, well you’ve got a point. If it wasn’t for you and him, you three would have been expelled long ago. He’s about to lean over and whisper something in your ear when some interrupts him mid motion.

“Weasley and (L/N), less flirting and more quil movement, yes?” He really sounds like Fred right there, a hint of an accent peaking through. Not that anyone other than you and George seem to notice. They’re all too busy contemplating how embarrassing it must be to get called out for not paying attention by Gilderoy Lockhart of all people.

You manage to not roll your eyes, sifting through your bag until you pull out some parchment.

“Geez four feet? That’s kind of excessive” you mumble while George is holding back laughter so violent he’s actually shaking.

“You know he’s just teasin’ right? It’s not like Lockhart’s actually going to grade these-“ and then a horrible realization dawns on him.

Half of the reason they thought this plan would work is because someone as pompous as Gilderoy Lockhart would never admit that two teenage boys hit him over the head with one of his books, and shoved him on a sofa (after tying his shoe laces together).

No, good old Gildy would go along like nothing had even happened, perhaps he’d even believe that nothing had really happened. Not enough sleep and too much caffeine do result in memory loss. And who can sleep with ‘the heir of Slytherin’ on the loose?

Ordering-sorry, assigning them to write four feet worth of parchment about what they admire about their professor sounds exactly like something he would do.

“Fucking Fred.” George hisses, why did he bloody have to pick four feet? Wouldn’t just one foot have sufficed? But no, the great Fred could never- ‘it adds enthusiasm, it’s all about the drama’ he would say.

Well where’s your god damn drama now that your best friend and brother are about to fail this god forksaken class, all because you couldn’t say one foot instead of f*cking four, George wants to scream.

You sigh, cutting your parchment in half, handing one half to George. You’ve only got four feet on you, you didn’t think you would need any more than that, so the both of you are just going to have to turn in two feet each.

“Sure would be a shame if Fred came back to the dorm and found, oh I don’t know, fifty spiders in his bed” you muse as you pull out two quills, and a bottle of ink. You’ve only got the one bottle, you’ll have to share.

But George isn’t paying any mind to the ink and parchment situation, instead he’s grinning at your suggestion. He always knew you had a wicked streak.

“Yeah it would be a real shame if say, two people were to go down to Hagrid’s hut, collect some drool from Fang, and smear it all over Fred’s robes” You peer at George from the corner of your eye, trying to hide your smile behind your hand.

“Oh well now wouldn’t that just be awful, hypothetically of course” You say, looking down to your parchment

“Truly a tragedy” He responds with a grin.

[i-simp-for-gintoki]

JuJutsu Kaisen school headcanons

“some jjk school headcanons? not with a reader or anything but just how itadori and the other first years are in school?”-anon

This was pretty fun! Each character is pretty short but it still turned out longer than it needed to be oops.

So we all know that theres a proper private school to teach upcoming shamans. Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College...thats a long ass name no wonder i didn’t remember it. But in the manga and anime, they dont exactly go into details of what they do for the school(i might be completely wrong just lemme know)

In the yuuta 4 chapter story, we kinda get a glimpse

Gojo is one of the few teachers and he teaches first years in a small classroom. i dont know what exactly he teaches but sometimes they go outside to train and well when yuuta and the others were training i forget if he was actually teaching anything. Like he gave him a sword to help with his powers and gave a brief explanation but thats about it.

Anyways.

Itadori Yuji:

Is late to class for the first couple days since he doesn’t remember the lay out of the campus

Its so huge for so little people

Sometimes he’s late just cause he slept in

doesnt really understand whats going on

He only just recently learned this world existed so of course he’s out of the loop with everything

he probably naps in class alot or spaces out

‘If i were to feed sukuna’s mouth on my hand...where would the food go? What would happen? How deep does it go?  What the hell has my body become??’

As his thoughts continue to derail, gojo would call on him and he might yell in response

he often asks megumi or nobara for help but they just dis him or ignore him

He tries to study! He really does! But he gets distracted and loses focus quite easily

during training he gets super excited thinking hes going to unlock abilities 

but thats quickly shot down and hes usually just forced to do something really mundane like run laps or jumping jacks

He might get another dummy to help control his cursed energy while gojo does his best to annoy him (honestly it doesnt take much for gojo to be annoying)

believes everything gojo says 

The blindfolded teacher definitely uses that to his advantage

“if you lick this rock it might help your overall abilities” “...really?” “are you doubting your sensei?” “is that...mud?” “Its just part of the rock. Besides you ate a rotten old finger for power im sure you can deal with a little bit of dirt”

He got sick for a week

Fushiguro Megumi:

Hes the kid who sits by the window and just stares out of it the whole class

He finds gojo’s teaching style incredibly annoying

Yes he learns stuff but because of the way Gojo teaches it, he ends up doubting all the knowledge he knew before in the process

Probably does well on tests or whatever homework their assigned

This kid probably makes himself a neat little bento for lunch

During lunch Yuji saw it and asked if he could have one next time instead of always buying food

He rejected his request for a while

But eventually he decided ‘why not its not like it would take that much more effort’

Nobara saw and was like “oh so you made one for a dunce like him but not me?”

Queue a large sigh

Within a month or two he makes everybody lunch (gojo included because he got tired of him always coming by and swiping a bit of food from everyone)

During training he pets his animals quite a bit

When gojo demonstrates a new self defense technique, megumi always gets picked to help demonstrate

110% of the time it ends up with his face being smeared into the floor

Wont ever admit it but he kinda enjoys class with yuji and nobara

Kugisaki Nobara:

Pretty short since i don’t quite know her character that well sorry

I feel like shes a mix of passing but also failing idk

Like during some tests she’d pass with flying colors and without a doubt will show off to the boys

But in other things she’d completely flunk

Draws little doodles in the corner of her notes and thinks about her childhood friend

During training she dislikes learning hand to hand combat

Mainly because she knows shes not capable of beating yuji and that ticks her off

So instead she beats him with her rubber mallet when given the chance

When yuji asks her to join him and megumi, she often complains or makes sassy comments but she never really ignores them

If she wanted to she could just hang by her self but she enjoys being with the two

Gojo Satoru:

This guy never shows up on time

Once he almost did so he simply turned around and decided not to show up at all

He doesn’t necessarily dislike teaching, but he finds giving detailed explanations kinda boring

‘I just told you what would happen, so why are you asking for a reasoning of the reaction’

He wants his students to have a fun teenage life so he often cuts class short by an hour or two just to hang out or go out

He explains how to counter certain types of curses or what to do in some scenarios pretty well

Gojo tries to teach regular stuff like math or history but...i dont know actually

Im not sure if he would happily teach it or just give up after a couple problems

I have a feeling he might just randomly give stupid hard problems and laugh as the first years struggle and fail to solve it

If any of his students do well on a test he’ll give them a small treat

And it may be small for him but its probably hella expensive

I mean he literally just wears clothing that is a couple thousand dollars each

His socks are most likely worth more than my house and everything inside it

Theres probably a small rule book of what he’s supposed to say and what hes not supposed to say

So just to piss the old man off he says everything he shouldnt

He encourages stupid behavior and absoluetly loves it when Yuji and Nobara thanks him for getting treats

[bffsoobin]

Iced Chai

↳ you had a small obsession with drinking iced chai lattes between class, and it just so happened that the coffee store on campus had the best ones. when a new barista replaces the one who used to make your drink, you put him to the test. he makes the most wonderful iced chai you’d ever had. he’s also one of the most handsome boys you ever seen on campus.

➤ fluff, college!au, shy barista!hueningkai

Word Count:3,830

A/N: yes, this fic is very much influenced by my massive love for iced chai lattes and the way I consumed them up until March when we had to leave campus. Sadly I didn’t have any cute boys serving me :(. Anywho, I hope you enjoy it! Please keep in mind that I haven’t proofread, so there may be some small mistakes!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

Calculus was a pain in the ass. Obviously, you knew this well before you scheduled for your freshmen year of college, but there was no way to avoid the reality handed to you by your major. So every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning at 8 am you endured the rambling lectures of your less than spry professor who could barely work his desktop computer. You tried your best to pay attention, you really did, but there was only so much you could do when the conversation shifted from tangent lines to the best way to reheat fast food french fries.

As you doodled in the margins of your lined notebook, your mind wandered to the only good thing sitting through this class does for you. Other than the credits. As soon as the clock struck 9am, you had a date with the on campus café. The roughly hour break between the end of calculus and the beginning of chemistry gave you the perfect window to enjoy some alone time. Homey, student run and always playing some version of a coffee shop playlist; the place was your haven on campus. Not only did you love the atmosphere and the fact that it was the best place on campus to study, but they also serve the best iced chai latte you’d ever encountered. The thought of the drink alone made your mouth salivate. From your first hesitant order, you had become hooked. Within your first week on campus, you had easily drank 10 cups of the chilled goodness before your roommate expressed concern for the sheer amount of sugar and dairy you’d been consuming. 

Due to the timing of your tri-weekly trips, you had always been served by the same lovely barista, Rachael. She was stylish, down to earth and always told you a good joke when you showed up looking especially out of it. Most importantly, something about the way she mixed the drink convinced you that she surely was sent from the heavens.

When your graying professor finally let your class go for the day, you walked on clouds to your favorite spot on campus. It had rained during class so the air was chilled and the ground was still damp. The telltale scent of rain invaded your senses and a chill ran through you. Most people would be craving a hot coffee or steaming cup of tea- but all you desired was the smooth flavor of your favorite drink. The walk to your beloved café wasn’t long, but you always found yourself in a bit of a rush to get there as soon as you possibly could. In a moment of carelessness, you stepped right into a rather large puddle and soaked one of your feet right through your shoes and your sock. Disgusting you thought as you finally arrived at the door. The handle was slick with moisture thanks to the weather, but you wiped your hand onto your sweatshirt as you stepped inside and let the familiar scent of coffee grounds occupy your mind. Your shoulders relaxed simply at the relaxed atmosphere.

A few students who also frequented around this time were sitting at their usual tables, and you waved at them politely before taking yourself- and your squelching shoe- over to the small booth you’d come to know and love. You ditched your bookbag on the table with a thud, feeling secure with the knowledge of your agreement with the girl who sat at the table next to you to keep an eye on your things. 

As you headed toward the counter, you belatedly noticed that the line seemed a bit more backed up than usual. It wasn’t too big of a concern, as your college was relatively small and waiting an extra five minutes would by no means ruin your timing. It was just curious. Usually Rachael ran the counter with the ease of an experienced sailor, but that ease seemed to be missing today. Nevertheless, the line inched forward steadily. Engrossed in your phone, you hadn’t noticed the glaring difference in your routine until you got to the cash register. While placing your plastic ID card over the scanner, you chirped “just my usual, Rachael!” 

Despite what your mind told you would happen next- she would laugh, say okay, maybe ask about class while handing over a receipt- you were met with an awkward stutter that your trusty barista certainly didn’t make. 

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know your usual,” upon finally looking up, your brain processed the sight of a new boy. A new gorgeous boy. Did they only hire beautiful people here? His black hair was falling into his eyes, charmingly shaggy and exposing just enough of his forehead to make you oddly wish you could see more. His cheeks were dusted in a light pink blush that both charmed you and made you feel bad at the same time. He seemed so fresh. Upon further inspection, you caught his handmade name tag written in slightly shaky handwriting that was so cutely boyish. Hueningkai. He had decorated one corner with a smiley face and the other with a drawing of a coffee bean that looked suspiciously like nothing more than a dark brown blob with a small accent line down the middle. 

“I’m sorry, Hueningkai,” you didn’t miss the way his eyes widened slightly at the use of his name, “usually Rachael is here to take my order. But I’ll take a large iced chai latte, please.” He nodded quickly, reverting his eyes to the LED screen which his eyes bounced around for a few seconds before he finally found the correct button. This must have been why the line seemed abnormally long. As the sound of your receipt printing filled the silence, you asked; “first day?” 

A melodious laugh fell from his lips, causing a scrunch of his perfectly pointed nose that you felt honored to have seen as he stepped away from the register to start making your drink. “That obvious, huh?” Another worker came to take his spot and serve the next student but you followed Hueningkai to his new destination. For as shy as he was at the cash register, he moved with much more confidence when it came to actually making drinks. His earlier hesitation was totally gone as he got to work mixing up your drink. In his new position, you could get a better look at his hands, adorned in simple silver jewelry that embarrassingly made your breath catch in your throat. His actions were over almost as quickly as they began, and his earlier hesitation seemed to return as he slid the drink to you over the granite counter top. You grasped at it eagerly in the same moment he reached to balance a straw on top of the lid. 

For a brief moment your fingers lingered and your mind went wild at the absurdity that you honestly felt sparks pass between the two of you. 

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he mumbled, dipping his head down awkwardly as he finally tore his hand away. You smiled back earnestly, hoping to make him understand that you weren’t bothered at all by the contact. 

Back at the safety of your table, you took a second to collect yourself. Surely you were overreacting to the small interaction. After all, you were already having a pretty weird day. Looking down at your clear cup, you remembered the beginning of your dilemma- the absence of amazing barista Rachael. Hueningkai was adorable, but could his skills hold up to the woman who made drinks you literally dreamed about? Tentatively, you took a sip of the drink and immediately cocked your head to the side. On the off chance your taste buds had totally deceived you, you took another long swig from the cup. 

Hueningkai’s drink was even better than Rachael’s.

——

The next morning, you awoke before your alarm even started to beep. Thursdays meant no class until 1 o’clock, so you had almost all the time in the world to catch up on assignments and homework and do your errands. Instead of doing anything constructive, you found yourself craving yet another iced chai latte. As you voiced this desire to your roommate, she looked at you as if you’d just admitted to the murder of 4 people.

“Are you insane? Do you not remember how miserable you felt after drinking two a day? I can’t let you do that again. You can go to the café but at least drink something different!” You knew that she was right, but something inside of you- that shitty little perpetual teenage boy who hides in a corner of your mind- told you to do the exact opposite of what she said.

“I’m sorry,” you shuffled through the shirts hanging in your closet, the sound of the plastic hangers clicking together resonating in the otherwise quiet room. “But you have to go to class so there’s no way you can police me. Plus,” you pulled a shirt out of your closet and slid over to your cheap full length mirror to inspect yourself. “You didn’t see Hueningkai. He is...” your cheeks flushed as your roommate began to let out a high pitched squeal. “Shhh! The walls are thin!”

“Oh don’t act so scandalized. I guess it makes sense that you’d have a crush on the boy who feeds your addiction.” You rolled your eyes at her, lobbing a pair of rolled up socks in her direction in retaliation. They hit her side softly before bouncing to the floor dejectedly. “You,” she pointed a finger your way as you rooted through your drawer for a pair of jeans, “are ridiculous. Have fun with your dreamy boy while I’m at class.”

Despite the familiarity of the path to the café, you still felt a bit out of place making the trip on a Thursday. Even the other students passing you by felt wrong in a way you couldn’t quite place. There was also the lingering worry that Hueningkai wasn’t even working today, and you’d show up to the small building just for a dose of disappointment. In you worried haze, you had barely noticed you arrived until the door was pushed open from the inside and a small pack of students held the door aside for you.

Inside of the building, a blanket of warm air surrounded your form and the faint smell of cinnamon drifted easily through the air. You were instantly calmed by the scent until someone bumped into your shoulder. With wide eyes, you looked around to see about double the amount of people your usual visits yielded. You were in no way prepared for the absolute mass of bodies that filtered between the tables and comfortable sitting areas. 

Feeling a bit lost, you put yourself into the line of waiting students and tried your best to peer over heads and around bodies to see if you could catch a glimpse of the barista that had captivated you so easily. It didn’t look like he was making drinks, but you held out hope that he was manning the register that was blocked from your sight. After what felt like forever, you reached the register and came face to face with...not Hueningkai. Despite your disappointment, there was no way you would turn down a drink, even made by a non-Hueningkai. 

Once you had the chilled cup cradled in your hands, you took a hopeless look around at the full dining room. Almost every table looked to be occupied, and some students had even resorted to leaning against the walls to chat and sip their drinks. The back of your neck began to heat up as you wandered around hoping for anyone to decide they were done and get up to leave. You had almost given up and decided to just go back to your dorm and lick your metaphorical wounds when a voice called your name. It only took a second of looking around to lock eyes with the one who was calling for you. 

Hueningkai. He had a light blush filling his cheeks as he waved a hand noncommittally your way. He looked ethereal sitting at the table, hot cup of something steaming next to his sticker covered laptop. His eyes were wide and adorably eager; akin to the look of a puppy who had just seen their owner after a long day. Your feet were working before your brain, so when you arrived to the table you had to scramble for an opener. 

“Hey! I was looking for you!” you winced. Way to go, Y/N. Out yourself on the second meeting. “I mean, uh,” you felt the cup in your hand start to slip with the sweat your palms produced, “I was hoping you’d make my drink again.” 

A smile spread like wildfire on Hueningkai’s face and his eyes crinkled adorably in the corners.

“You liked it that much?” His voice was meek, oddly shy for the way he beamed up at you with so much ease. 

“Yeah! It was really good. Even better than Rachael’s, to be honest.”

“Really? She was the best barista here!” He brought a hand up to his mouth in shock. 

“Yeah, really! Anyway, I can get going if you...you look busy,” you gestured toward his open laptop and drink that you were sure was rapidly cooling the longer you distracted him. 

“No!” he blurted the word before visibly flinching at his actions. At least it wasn’t just you feeling like a fumbling idiot. “I called you over cause it looked like you needed a seat? And if you want to sit with me, you can. I’m just working on a presentation and you won’t distract me, I promise.” There was no way you could deny the eagerness lacing his voice, so you pulled the chair opposite him across the floor and settled in. 

----

“That sounds like a date. A hangout at the very least,” your roommate asserted as she typed some code into her computer. 

“It was not a date!” You whined, glaring up at your ceiling from your spot on your twin XL. “He just saw me looking for a place to sit and offered.” She scoffed. 

“Yeah, and then he proceeded to ignore his homework to talk to you. And then he asked if you were coming back to the cafe tomorrow. And then he-” 

“Okay, I get it! But what am I supposed to do? Ask him out?” A bubble of nerves was resting heavily in your stomach at the thought. As much as you liked him, who were you to think that he wasn’t just being kind? When you voiced this concern to your roommate, she tossed her computer to the side and strode over to your bed to not-so-gently pull you out of it. Without an idea of what she was doing, you stood dumbly until she put on her slippers and drug you out of your room. 

“What are you doing? I didn’t even put my slippers on!” Your sock covered feet slid across the tile of the hallway as your roommate finally hauled you into the common room of your floor, where a few small groups had gathered to do various activities. 

“Hi everyone! My lovely roommate Y/N and I have a question for you. Do any of you know Hueningkai? He works at the cafe, really tall, music major?” A few people nodded in confusion, surely wondering why the hell one of the polite tenants of room 112 was conducting some kind of survey in the lounge. 

“Great. Has he ever shown interest in any of you? Asked you to sit with him in the cafe? Spent about an hour inquiring about your life instead of quietly working? Gave you his number?” Everyone who had previously nodded stood still, not moving an inch as they whispered between each other. “Okay, that’s all!” Your roommate left with no further elaboration as you called out a weak apology to everyone. Back in the safety of your room, you stared at her, scandalized. 

“What was that?” 

“That, my dear Y/N, was proof. He likes you!”

----

A nervousness you hadn’t felt since move in day was crawling through your body the closer the clock ticked to 9 am. Theoretically, you could just skip going to get a drink today, and therefore avoid the source of your nerves; but you knew that Hueningkai was expecting you to show. He had even sent you an eager text this morning with a series of heart wrenchingly adorable emojis. There was no way you could avoid him after that. 

Late fall weather had surely settled in today and you felt the chill settle into your bones as soon as you stepped out of the math building. For a few seconds, you stopped to watch a rough breeze rustle browning leaves across the concrete paths of campus before simply digging your hands further into your pockets. You had to power your way through this. Worse case scenario, he says no and you can never show your face on campus again. Simple. 

The door felt especially heavy under your hands as you hauled it open. The much more familiar, sparsely populated shop greeted you but only ratcheted up your nerves. With less people milling around, there was no way to delay your conversation with Hueningkai. As soon as you began to approach the counter, you could see him stumble over to the register before the other working student could even attempt to. He tried to casually lean his elbow onto the half wall to his left, but he miscalculated and ended up shyly tucking his hands into the front pocket of his apron. 

“Hi,” you swallowed the lump in your throat and hoped that he hadn’t notice the shake in your voice. The familiar beep of the card reader interrupted your worries momentarily as you heard the boy in front of you exhale a greeting. 

“Your usual?” He inquired as if he hadn’t already seen you with the drink two days in a row. Not trusting your voice, you simply nodded and waited for him to punch the order into the screen. His hand hesitated as he glanced up at you again. “You’re the only person I know still ordering cold drinks in this weather,” a teasing smile had blossomed on his pink lips and your heart jumped at the sight. 

“Well, I guess I’m just a bit stuck in my ways,” you followed him, as always, to the other side of the counter where orders were placed when finished. 

“I like that,” he commented as he grabbed a cup, “it makes my job a whole lot easier,” your eyes locked onto his hands out of instinct. Yesterday you had noticed the addition of a thin silver chain around his wrist, and you would be lying if you hadn’t spent a few minutes admiring the delicate chain contrasted against the strength of his hands. A pour of ice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you caught the back half of a question from him. 

“What’d you say?” You felt as if lava was bubbling right under the surface of your skin as you reeled in embarrassment. You couldn’t believe that you’d let yourself miss a chunk of conversation for something so stupid. 

“Oh,” he seemed equally embarrassed that you hadn’t heard him, and it hurt your heart a little to see the way his eyes shook. “I just wanted to know if you had a good night yesterday. I mean because you-you told me when we hung out that you had a lot of reading to do, and I wasn’t sure if you got it all done. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed with readings that I don’t do any of them, and Taehyun yells at me for that but I just can’t seem to stop doing it.” He was rambling, and you both knew it, but you let him continue as he shyly looked away in order to pour your drink over the ice. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I had an okay night. My roommate was a bit much, but I love her, so it was okay.” His eyebrow quirked softly at the mention of your roommate, but he seemed afraid to broach the subject just yet. He gave your drink a good swirl after sealing on the lid and slid it over the smooth counter to your waiting hand. Unlike the first time you had met, you had already grabbed a straw from the small display and plunged it into the drink. 

Although you should have walked away, something kept you rooted to the spot, Hueningkai seemed to be under the same kind of spell as he looked over his shoulder to see that no one else had lined up to be served quite yet. 

“Hey, I was wonderi-”

“This might be weird-”

Your sentences clashed in the air as you spoke at the exact same time. Your mouth hung open like a fish out of water and Hueningkai waved his hands around wildly in your direction. “Go ahead!” He enthused, looking as if he was going to melt into the floor as a side effect of interrupting you. 

“No, I mean, you can say your thing first, if you- if you want,” you offered weakly. 

“No, it’s okay, you definitely spoke first. G-go ahead,” he nodded rapidly in order to convince you further. You raised your eyebrows in a silent question of ‘are you sure?’, to which he nodded again. 

“Okay, I was wondering if you’d like to, uhm, go out sometime? On a date?” The words felt like weights rolling off of your tongue. Hueningkai blinked once, twice, a third time before he broke into a peal of laughter. A sudden wash of panic, as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over your head, filled your senses. This was it. You would have to transfer schools and change your hair color to get rid of this incident. Goodbye, life you had come to know and love. 

Hueningkai must have recognized your panic as he took a harsh breath and surged forward to reach for your arm. 

“Wait! I wasn’t laughing at you! It’s just that I was, um, also going to ask you out.” This time, a laugh bubbled up in your throat at the confession. 

“You’re right. That is pretty hilarious.” You admitted, feeling the tension around you totally dissipate. 

“Well, I think this bodes well for us. We’ve only known each other for a few days and we already have telepathy. My roommate will be so jealous. He’s been trying to meld our minds for weeks.” His personality was beginning to peak through when he spoke about his friends, you noticed. It was charming. He was charming. Not to mention, he still made the best damn iced chai latte you’d ever had. 

[brytmoon]

i feel like i'm being really annoying about it to ppl so i'm gonna vent here about struggles i have that might be undiagnosed adhd symptoms since i don't have a very big following except for two close friends (sorry y'all)

1. hygiene, such as brushing my teeth in the morning and showering, is hard. it's been hard my whole life but even now, i'll stare at myself in the mirror or scroll through my phone as i try to convince myself to brush my teeth. (this may or may not be related, but i hate going to the dentist, too.) with showering, it's hard to find the time. i always make sure to shower as often as possible (which is every other day, usually) or i make sure i don't smell if i haven't because i'm scared of having b.o. with both, i have to motivate myself to do it with fancy toothpastes and mouthwash or nice-smelling shower gels and lotions. I'm guessing this is executive dysfunction???

2. I've been incredibly disorganized my whole life. i once thought i had adhd when i was younger because of how disorganized i was. I've always had a super messy backpack and a super messy room (it's really messy rn) but i always know where everything is. i had a ds for at least ten years but lost it a couple months ago in the middle of playing it. where did it go???? i have no idea bruh. and i lose my phone all. the. time.

3. i'm terrible with procrastinating. turning in projects and essays at 11:59 after bullshitting it either all day or mere hours before the due date??? a constant. having failing homework grades and having ntis in every class, no matter how much i enjoy it??? a constant. i once did a whole project i hadn't started on until the morning of the due date. i worked on it while in other classes and at lunch and turned it in 3 minutes before the dropbox closed. anything that's not what i enjoy or zaps the fun out of what i enjoy, i procrastinate with. I've sat in front of the computer screen and almost cried so many times because i couldn't get myself to type up a scholarship essay, which OBVIOUSLY would greatly benefit me as a broke college student, but it doesn't matter bc my brain thinks it's boring so why not push it off?? because i procrastinate, i tend to overwhelm myself so much that i break down at least once when an assignment's due because I've formed a terrible habit of pushing myself to overexertion to get a project done that's meant to be done gradually.

4. bouncing off that last point, I'm terrible with time management and remembering events/due dates/assignments to complete. I've tried using schedule apps and alarms. I've tried to plan out my days. I've tried forming routines and habits to get things done at appropriate times and it doesn't work. that schedule app i downloaded and spent so much time filling out? completely forgotten in a week or two. i swipe away the notifications and pay no attention to them. since everything's virtual now, there have been important college information zoom calls, but i forget about them and miss them. i can't remember events, due dates, or assignments if i don't write them down. since i meet every other day or sometimes once a week for a specific class in college, i can easily forget something mentioned earlier that week that's due the next week over the weekend. i have to remember to write in my agenda in order to remember to do something important, which can be stressful and convoluted 🙃🙃 so my bad time management results in further procrastination and missed opportunities, which makes me feel awful about myself late at night when all i can think about is what i should've done better or differently.

5. chores and hobbies are... interesting. when i do get the energy or motivation to clean or draw, i will hyperfocus on them. if i finally feel like cleaning, I'll skip breakfast and/or lunch and won't take care of myself until I'm done. same happens with drawing. and as stupid or funny as it sounds, i find getting up to go pee so annoying!!!! I'm in the middle of doing something i FINALLY want to do and then i have to get up to go use the bathroom. i don't want to break my concentration bc it's an inconvenience. then with hobbies (y'know, things i want to do and enjoy) i procrastinate!! I've been trying to watch atla since everyone loves it and i like it too, but i put off watching it and other shows like crazy. i play instruments and love to do so, but don't practice very often and spend a couple hours doing so when i do because i remember how fun it is. when i do laundry, I'll remember to put the clothes in the washing machine and start it. but then I'll forget to either put them in the dryer, take them out of the dryer, or fold them. i often have to rewash loads because I'll forget they're in there or I'll have a pile of clothes sitting on my bed for days because i procrastinate with folding them and putting them up.

6. i am the most motivated and have the most energy at night. over the summer, I'd stay up until 4 or 5 am on a regular basis. I'd be the most productive during that time but my sleeping schedule would be so off because of it.

7. so people with adhd crave things that produce dopamine, right? well i snack on candy all the time. and i mean it when i say it's ALL THE TIME. my favorite one is red hots because they're crunchy and spicy. eating candy helps me focus and is probably a form of me seeking more stimulation, but it's bad because of my teeth hygiene issues and me hating to go to the dentist. i also can't do tasks quietly. i have to be listening to music or watching a video while working on something and there are times when i want to do both while working??? so now when i watch something or listen to music without working, i tend to need something to do so i scroll through Instagram while having the show on even though it makes me miss what's happening sometimes.

8. i don't really fidget much i don't think?? but i do weird stuff while listening to someone talk. in school, i often doodled on my worksheets and got in trouble for it. I'd draw eyes in the margins, characters I'm fixated on, squiggly lines, and would color in my o's. or while listening to a family member vent, i dance around or listen while scrolling through Instagram. i also have a baaad habit of picking at my skin (dermatillomania). I'd focus on picking scabs for a really long time when i was alone and bored and have scars on my face and legs from doing it. I've picked at my face since i was a kid and absent mindedly do it every day.

9. i can get quite distracted and have to ask for directions to be repeated because i won't hear them?? like my brain won't process what someone said until they say it again when i'm actually fully paying attention. my mom will ask me to run an errand for her and she'll need to repeat it to me because i'll get distracted while she's explaining or i'll forget what she said after walking away. i get off track in conversations a lot and can't really listen well when there's a lot of other noise going on, like in cafeterias. i'll be talking to one friend and hear another interesting conversation down the table and pause while speaking bc my attention shifted. i also can lose my train of thought quite easily when waiting to speak and forget what i was saying and not be able to remember it for the life of me. so I'll interrupt sometimes so i don't forget

10. when talking to friends, i feel like i talk about myself a lot. i like to use my personal experiences to connect with what they said and be empathetic to them, but i worry this comes off as being conceited. i heard that it might be an adhd thing i do to keep myself engaged in the conversation.

i think that's all of them??? I'm so sorry to anyone who has to scroll through all this jgjrjrj but i guess it's good to make note of this stuff in some way because i articulate my feelings better when typing instead of speaking. and this'll be helpful to reference when chatting with a future therapist which i will hopefully get soon! and if anyone sits through this and has any advice, I'm all ears!!

[anerdinallherglory]

Approaching Sun (27)

Author’s Note: I am SO sorry about how long this chapter took to update. Taking on master’s classes on top of work has been a rough transition. The majority of this chapter had been planned and typed a long time ago, but it just took me ages to organize it, detail it, clean it up, and fluff it with a fork. For those of you who have contacted recently, (and I probably have yet to respond) this chapter is for you. Without your encouragement, who knows how much longer this chapter would have taken.

Forgive me. Hope you enjoy.

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26

Chapter 27: Confirmation

Sakura had fully intended on eavesdropping on Sasuke’s conversation with Satou; in fact, it was the only reason that Sakura had allowed the interaction to transpire between her patient and her teammate. After Sasuke had closed the door firmly behind her, Sakura had walked heavily down the hallway so her footsteps could be heard. Her next step was to take the stairs, walk silently up two floors, and listen in by opening the window directly above Satou’s. Sakura had noted that Satou’s patient room window had been cracked open. Surely her ninja skills would be well-adapted to a simple eavesdropping.

But that’s not what happened. Instead, as Sakura walked down the hall, she noted that her breathing was becoming short. Her chest was tightening considerably, a feeling that she dismissed at first to anxiety at the current situation. When she paused to consider it, Sakura tried to swallow past her itchy throat. A terrifying realization came over Sakura has she glanced down at her hands that held the freshly pulverized Ashuwa.

Shit.         

Sakura covered the mortar, sprinted down the remainder of the hallway, and took a right. She held tightly to the Ashuwa despite the situation; she couldn’t afford to sacrifice what they had acquired in her state of panic. Sakura tried her best to remember the hospital’s layout; there was a drug storage room on every level, so thankfully Sakura wouldn’t have to take stairs in her compromised situation. Turning another corner, Sakura was relieved to finally stumble up to the door marked “薬” for medication. Placing the mortar of Ashuwa on the ground, Sakura managed to focus through her shortness of breath and perform the sign of the ram to channel her chakra to her palm. Placing it on the center of the door, Sakura nearly stumbled as the door received her chakra signature and swung open to grant her access to the room.

Sakura’s vision began to blur as she shuffled through the drawers and cabinets. She could barely read the itemized labels of the stored items. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. She felt lethargic and her throat was swelling quickly. She should have taken Mako’s warning more seriously. He had told her of the drug’s disuse in the medical environment due to many allergic reactions to it. This was what she had been testing earlier when she picked a generous pinch of Ashu from the ground and placing it in her mouth; however, her and Mako both had gotten distracted by the issue of Satou.

Sakura cursed at herself for being careless but felt confident in her approach. If only she could find the medicine. She narrowed her focus to the vials on the top shelf and coughed violently as she reached for one. Stumbling into the shelf resulted in several of them busting onto the ground. After locating the blue tagged bottle labeled “adrenaline,” Sakura threw open cabinet after cabinet until she found the drawer of packaged syringes. She was choking now, a fish out of water and she aimed the needle into the top of the bottle; her hands shook as she waisted even more time trying to draw the medicine into the plunger.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sasuke was trying to outwalk Mako, who was smiling kindly and attempting to make small talk as they quickly made their way down the hall from Satou’s room. Sasuke thought if he could just stride quickly enough, Mako might take the hint and part ways with him.

Sasuke frowned at Mako’s prattling of, “I have to admit. I was concerned with the whole genjutsu approach, but I think that it might be pretty effective. That was brilliant!”

Sasuke stopped his break-neck pace and narrowed his eyes at the medic, scrutinizing him carefully. “What do you want?”

“What do you mean?” asked Mako innocently, crossing his arms behind him.

Sasuke debated Mako for a second. Here was a skilled shinobi of medicine, an assistant to his friend, and Sakura addressed him casually. This trip was the first occasion that Sasuke had ever met him, yet Mako recognized Sasuke’s attempt at genjutsu before he had even performed it. Perhaps he was knowledgeable of the sharingan; many people were. It was Sasuke’s past of constantly being targeted that had the Uchiha wary. Was this the reason Sasuke was inclined to distrust him, or was it the fact that Sakura was involved?

Sasuke clarified. “I want to know who you are and what you want.”

Mako laughed and smiled nicely. “Well, I am a medic ninja here at the Suna hospital. I have been appointed to assist Sakura-san during her stay with us. Kankuro was pretty adamant about it.”

“Hn.” Sasuke responded before walking forward again. Mako sped to catch up.

“Honestly,” he continued, “Sunagakure owes a lot to Sakura-san. You have probably heard this before, but we have advanced due to her and the Leaf’s medical supervision and instruction. We are something in her debt.”

Sasuke didn’t respond. Perhaps that was all there was to it. Sasuke supposed it made sense that Gaara and Kankuro would assign the most ambitious learner and fellow medicinal expert as Sakura’s assistant. Sunagakure wanted to take advantage of every lesson and tip available. Sakura’s discipline and dedication to the medical practice made her share a common interest with the professionals here. Not everyone always had some double meaning to their actions like most ninja in the shinobi world.

As Sasuke and Mako rounded the corner to the left, they paused as several people ran past them in the opposite direction, back toward the center of the third floor. One man who bumped into Mako’s shoulder turned to look at him in recognition, jogging backwards. “Code 10. Haruno-san.”

“Shit!” Mako cursed, chasing after the man who spoke. Sasuke didn’t know what “Code 10” meant, but to see a panicked response in connection to the name “Haruno” had Sasuke quickly following.

“What is it?” he demanded, matching Mako’s stride this time.  

“Anaphylaxis” Mako said breathlessly as they rounded the final corner and nearly collided with several attendants outside a small room in the hallway. Someone was kneeling just outside the door and Sasuke couldn’t make out the questions they were asking before until he began to make his way through with Mako right on his heels.

When he came in line with the entrance, Sasuke froze. Sakura was on her back, broken glass surrounding her on a messy floor. A medic was kneeling down beside her and removing a syringe from her hand. “We need to get her into one of the rooms. Now.” Sasuke’s heart was racing as someone wheeled a gurney past him. Mako began pulling him away from the entrance to which Sasuke almost shrugged off.

Sakura’s pink head was closest to the door so Sasuke couldn’t get a good look at her face until they began lifting her onto the gurney and wheeled her past him. To Sasuke’s great relief, his medic friend was fully alert despite the hives across her face and swelling lips. When making eye contact with him, she raised her hand and waved awkwardly.

“Hey.” She said past swollen lips.

“Hey?!” Sasuke responded, irritation quickly replacing his concern. Was she serious?! Mako let out a surprised laugh at her casual greeting. Sasuke ignored him completely and began tailing the gurney as it rolled away with her.

“What the hell happened?” he asked her with pointed annoyance. After failing to mumble past her tomato mouth, Sasuke shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“I’ll explain,” Mako said from the other side of the swiveling table. Sasuke spent the next several minutes listening to Mako explain a basic understanding of anaphylaxis and staring disbelievingly at Sakura as they unloaded her onto a bed. They began to hook her up to an IV and other machinery that would monitor her pulse and blood pressure.

Mako continued his explanation, “Antihistamines are what comes next. Luckily, she responded to the epinephrine and doesn’t need intubation. We’ll have to monitor her for a few hours just to make sure she doesn’t have another episode.”

Sakura was nodding her blistered head in agreement at everything he said. Sasuke just glared at her.

“Why did you eat a plant you knew was toxic?” he asked crossly. She shrugged her shoulders, the only response she could really make at the moment.

“I should have stopped you, Haruno-san.” Mako bowed. “It is all my fault.”

Sakura began shaking her head to dismiss Mako’s apology. Then she began to gesture for Sasuke to come over to her bedside. When he was close enough, Sakura pointed toward his hand.

“What?” he asked, looking down at it. My hand? What about it? He sure wasn’t going to hold her hand if that was what she was implying. Especially not in front of anyone.

A word made it past her lips but Sasuke didn’t understand it. “Hn?”

“Rath,” she repeated, still pointing. “Da ya hath a rath?”

“Oh,” Mako exclaimed. “You were handling the Ashuwa earlier, Sasuke. Do you have a rash on your hand?”

Ah. Sasuke’s hand was partially gloved except for his fingertips, which were unmarred. It had been approximately 30-45 minutes since Sasuke had even touched the plant. Sakura had sampled the herb 10 minutes before that, so it was too early to tell if Sasuke would have a similar reaction. He didn’t have a rash on his fingertips though.

Another physician handed Mako a familiar mortar and removed his disposable gloves after touching it. Mako immediately pinched a piece out of it and offered it to the Uchiha.

Sasuke responded with a glare as Mako continued to hold it out.  “You’re not suggesting I eat that?”

“We need to make sure that you don’t develop a similar reaction, especially if you plan on using the chakra pills that Sakura is making.”

Sakura was mutely nodding in agreement and Sasuke annoyingly spat out toward her, “Why? You want me to end up looking like you?” Her nodding turned to shaking.

She followed with, “He’th ight. Eat wow you ah here.”  Sasuke scoffed and blinked in disbelief at her communication efforts. How was she even talking?!

This was an absolute lunatic idea. She wanted the BOTH of them in hospital beds in this village while Gaara was away handling potential psychos that were after them? It was already a concern that she was incapacitated; Sasuke sure as hell wasn’t going into anaphylaxis too by choice.

“I’ll wait until you’re better,” he answered, shooing Mako’s hand away from his face. As he did so, Sasuke pointed at the door, ordering Mako to just go and check on Satou’s kid. Mako blinked at him in confusion before taking the hint and exiting with that same excuse.

When the silence grew thick between them, Sasuke took a casual stance against the wall next to Sakura’s bedside.

“Ya are wathing time,” Sakura began, looking guilty despite her swollen mouth as she tucked her hands beneath the covers and looked around at nonexistent people in the room; anywhere but at him. She was right. He was wasting time, and Sasuke mentally shook himself as he realized his indifference to that. He was trying to remind himself of his goal but in that moment, Sasuke’s feelings were outweighing that purpose.

He turned his back and peered out the small window at the darkening sky. He glanced back at her briefly before turning back to the window. “Are you okay?”

There wasn’t a reply which had the Uchiha worried and he turned to see her wide-eyed expression at his question. The face Sakura was making looked as if Sasuke had grown two heads. “I mean,” he added quickly, “with a mouth like that, it looks difficult to breath.”

She immediately covered her mouth and frowned at him, obviously embarrassed at his words. “I ah fine!” she shouted in embarrassment into her fingers and turned her head. Sasuke resisted the urge to smirk.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

After the administration of the antihistamine, Sakura didn’t wait long before she began removing her own IV. She felt bad for the time that had been wasted today when she was supposed to be making the food pills. Sakura was just relieved that the Ashu had been tested before she gave Sasuke a drug that could potentially kill him.  

“What are you doing?” Sasuke asked as she removed the monitor and turned off the flatlining machine before anyone came in at the sound. “They said it would be best to stay the night.”

“I’m ah do-ter” she told him. Yes, Sakura would have advised the same thing to her patients, but she was out of danger now and she felt anxious despite her drowsiness. She was troubling Sasuke enough by accompanying him on his mission. She didn’t want to get in his way; she was supposed to be making things easier.

Sasuke scoffed at her dismissive, mumbled declaration as she stood from the bed. She blinked heavily and managed to stand upright. It would still take a little bit of time for her to completely pass out from the side effects, so Sakura figured the time she had left awake could be spent productively.

The medic immediately went over to the cabinets and pulled out disposable gloves and a mask from the drawer. The mask would serve two purposes: 1) protect her from inhaling the Ashuwa as she worked and 2) hide her ridiculous “tomato” mouth as Sasuke referred to it. Ugh. Sakura could die from embarrassment.

“What are you doing now?” Sasuke grumbled irritably, following her as she moved. She immediately headed over to the mortar on the cabinet and pinched some of the yellow herb, skin protected from the substance thanks to the gloves.

“Eat.” She stated plainly. They couldn’t proceed further if Sasuke was likely to have a similar allergic reaction. Sakura would have to scrap their entire progress by disposing of the food pill batch. She would be back to square one and they would have to start all over by finding a new foundational herb with the correct properties to achieve the correct results.

“Forget it,” the Uchiha deadpanned before making to head for the door. Sakura caught hold of his hand, stumbling in the process and taking a hard fall on her knee. She winced visibly. That would bruise later. Sasuke immediately turned and helped her up and Sakura thanked her mask for hiding her blushing cheeks as well.

With the same hand Sasuke had offered, Sakura turned his palm up and placed the Ashuwa in his cupped fingers. “No time.”

Sasuke glared at her for what seemed like several minutes before reluctantly dumping it down his throat. They both knew he had to for his own sake.

Sakura nodded before trashing her gloves and retrieving a new pair. She couldn’t risk leaving traces around the hospital and anyone else coming into contact with the pollen if it was responsible for anaphylaxis. Mako had said that it was such a common reaction that they had stopped using it altogether.

Sakura halted in her steps, considered her plan, and decided to grab the entire box of disposable gloves. She handed Sasuke the mortar.

Sasuke gave her an expression that radiated annoyance but somehow was miraculously completely blank. If she could speak clearly in this moment, Sakura would have asked him how he managed that.

“Fowwo” she murmured through her mask-covered lips, pairing the word with a beckoning wave. “We’ll tesh your weaction why we wait.” She was shuffling out the door before Sasuke had the chance to say anything more.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sasuke trailed his teammate from the room, carrying the mortar of Ashuwa he had ground up earlier that day. This was one of the few times in his life that Sasuke somewhat regretted his decision to refuse the artificial limb that Tsunade had made for he and Naruto. Sakura was walking with one arm against the wall for support and Sasuke’s one and only hand was currently occupied.

It was well after dark now and many of the staff members were busy attending overnight patients, so they weren’t stopped by anyone as Sakura found her way back to the medicine room, which was now cleaned of broken glass and everything back in its space. She reached up and grabbed several bottles of adrenaline and then dug through the drawer for syringes.

“Sakura,” Sasuke began as she dropped some of the things she was holding onto the floor. “You need rest. We can finish this later.”

“We hafe to wait for weaction anyway. Might as well make the pills.”

“I feel fine.” Sasuke reassured her. It was true. Time had passed enough for his fingertips to develop a rash if there was going to be a topical reaction. He had yet to show signs from consumption.

Sakura strode past him again, this time walking backwards to face him. He could make out a smile beneath her mask which somewhat irked the Uchiha. She seemed awfully cheery despite nearly dying from anaphylaxis. Sasuke concluded that it had to be the medicine making her drowsy.

“Turn around before you fall,” he grumbled. She laughed as she began to walk slowly up the stairs. He hurried up behind her and offered her his elbow which she took thankfully despite his huffed “So annoying.” Her laugh was her only response.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura was practically nodding off as she watched Sasuke mix and prepare the batch of ingredients for the food pills. She felt relieved at finally seeing headway as Sasuke rolled the batter into 1-inch circular doses according to her instructions and placed them in the hospital’s oven.  Sakura had tried to do so herself, but Sasuke had insisted she sit down to avoid screwing them up and risking their progress. Sakura allowed him to take the reins, praying desperately that the food pills would turn out and serve their purpose after such a hassle.

“Sasuke,” she whispered, immediately touching her lips behind the mask as she noticed the decrease in swelling. The ice Sakura had retrieved from icebox was doing its job.

“Hm?” he answered, trashing the latex glove he used to protect his skin and replacing his own. He turned to her then in the dim light, but Sakura couldn’t make out his expression because the only light in the room was a lamp over the counter workspace behind him. There was a shadow concealing his features and Sakura was too tired to try to make them out.

A lot easier now that her lips were shrinking, Sakura asked, “How are you? Any shortness of breath?”

“I’m fine,” he stated simply.

“Good,” she replied, thanking that ridiculous Uchiha blood of his for not reacting to the Ashuwa like her’s had. How ironic, Sakura thought, that even Sasuke’s genetics seemed to be working for him even in this circumstance. How superior he must feel.

Reclined across the small seating bench in the corner, Sakura placed her chin on her chest and inhaled the gentle night breeze that was coming from the opened window. It seemed to be the first night that the sand wasn’t trying to shatter the glass; to be honest, Sakura was surprised that the hospital windows even opened. Perhaps they were high enough on the fourth story to avoid the sand barrage.

Sasuke came to stand before her and Sakura blinked sleepily up at him in an antihistamine induced haze.

“Sleep,” the Uchiha before her ordered. “I’ll wake you when they’re done.”

Sakura wanted to argue that she could manage to stay awake for another 20 minutes while the chakra pills roasted, but she wasn’t that confident in her ability to do so. At most, she could manage maybe 5 more minutes if she concentrated hard enough. She wanted to ask Sasuke about the conversation he had with Satou.

“Sit with me,” she said, but it sounded more like a question. There was a minute of silence as Sasuke observed her. The bench wasn’t roomy, but Sakura was too drowsy to be apprehensive about their proximity. Sasuke must have not been either, because he sat and exhaled when he did so. Perhaps he was tired too.

. . . . . . . . . . . 

Sasuke tried not to lean away from her as she settled into his side. He cursed her medicated self for such confidence in a small, darkened space. He counted down the time in his head; he would only have to stay seated here for 17 more minutes. For some reason, that time seemed both entirely too long and entirely too short.

“Satou,” Sakura began, reaching up to take off the medical mask on her face. Sasuke tried not to smirk at the lips that were still puckered despite having minimized in size. He blinked past the image to focus on her words.

“Hn,” he responded sourly, thinking of the man whose name had just been dropped between them like a heavy, unwanted stone. Sasuke didn’t particularly feel like talking about that man. He had, had enough of Satou for one day.

“How did it go?” his teammate probed politely despite being nosey.

“Fine,” he replied shortly, not wanting Sakura to find out about too many details. How would she react if she knew he had used his Sharingan on him? Probably not well. Sakura would continue to dig for more specifics if Sasuke didn’t bring an end to the topic promptly. “His son needs to be sent to Konoha.”

Sakura nodded, not seeming too surprised at Sasuke assessment. Perhaps she had been thinking similarly. “Thank you for talking to him.”

It wasn’t much of a talk, but Sasuke wasn’t going to tell her that, so he just responded again with a finalizing “Hn.”

Sasuke couldn’t help but jump when Sakura’s fingers touched his right hand. “Sasuke,” she began, almost in sleepy inquiry as she brushed his palm with her thumb and index. There was hopefulness in her voice and Sasuke cursed her medication again for her damn self-assurance.

“I..” she began, but Sasuke cut her off before she continued. Sasuke was almost absolutely certain that he knew which words would come next.

“Shh,” he replied, leaning comfortably into her side as his answer to her unspoken confession. “Just sleep.”

After a few breaths, and when Sakura’s head nodded onto his shoulder, Sasuke scooped up her hand into his, finding the courage to splay her fingers with his own and fasten them into place. Even when he would let her go in 15 minutes, Sasuke would lock the moment into his heart to last him the rest of his life.  

. . . . . . . . . . . .

When he counted down to the last second in his mind, Sasuke counted a few extra seconds. And then a few more. He thought about letting the doses of chakra pills burn to a crisp in the oven, but he decided against it, reluctantly releasing Sakura’s hand and pulling away from her heavy head.

Making sure that Sakura wouldn’t wake, Sasuke silently rose, turned off the oven and retrieved the pills from inside. He placed them on the counter quietly and turned to lean against the counter. He watched Sakura’s sleeping form for a few minutes, considering if he should wake her as he promised or let her sleep longer. What was the possibility of sitting beside her and stealing a few moments more?

Sasuke knew he was playing a dangerous game. Tomorrow, the Uchiha would test the chakra pill nearby and he and Sakura both were aware of what would happen after that. With the issue of his chakra reserves addressed, he would return to the desert to attempt cross-connecting dimensions again. They both realized Sasuke couldn’t waste any more time.

And with that thought, Sasuke’s stern resolve slipped. He would distance himself later, he thought. He would put the space back between them tomorrow. Tonight, Sasuke wanted to be next to Sakura.

He sat back down beside her and softly took up her hand again.  Just for a little while longer.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura woke in the middle of the night from the pain in her arched neck. She blinked past sleep and realized that she was folded into Sasuke’s side with her knees tucked and Sasuke’s head leaning against hers. Not only that, but Sakura froze as she realized her hand was entwined with Sasuke’s between them. The moment was fragile, and Sakura almost cried of joy and then heartbreak as it shattered when Sasuke responded to her shifting.

The weight of his head on hers lifted and Sakura tried not to grab desperately at him to keep him from moving. Instead, Sakura pivoted her eyes to his as his sleep faded and realization appeared on his face.

Sasuke released her hand and stood hurriedly, saying nothing despite how Sakura’s heart wanted answers. She wanted to know if this moment was genuine or if she had been the one to hold onto him in her sleep. Sakura wanted to believe desperately that Sasuke had allowed himself to be transparent for just a moment and had secretly revealed his true feelings for her by holding her as she slept. Had that been the case? Was she being too optimistic? This wouldn’t be the first time their hands had touched. Had he been supporting her as a friend, or did he feel something more? She had to know.

“Sasuke,” she began, but he cut her off for the second time that night.

“Good. You’re awake. Let’s go.” He declared, hastily placing the finished chakra pills in an open travel container on the counter.  

Sakura stood then, heart racing and adrenaline pumping as she worked up the courage to come up behind him as he worked. She wasn’t going to confess this time. She was going to ask Sasuke if he had been confessing to her while she slept?

“Do you… love me?”

Sakura was almost certain that he stopped breathing altogether as he paused his task. The Uchiha took a minute to compose himself before exhaling. “When are you going to stop that?”

The statement was meant to be cold, but the fact that it came out so desperately low gave Sakura a rare feeling of hope despite the words. “When are you?” she responded calmly in a whisper.

“What?” he asked incredulously, finally turning to her.

She gradually took the last few steps between them and stood carefully in front of him. “When are you going to stop pretending that you have no feelings for me?”

Sakura expected a scoff, a ridicule, but what she got in return was painful fear in Sasuke’s usually expression-less eyes.

It was true, she realized. Sasuke did have feelings for her. There had been so many signs, but Sakura had been unsure about all of them until this very moment. But what had just passed between them was confirmation. Sakura almost lost her breath at the realization.

“You’re mistaken,” finally came the blunt retort, but it was too late.

Sakura was already closing the inches between them. Her fingers were already brushing his cheeks as she brought his face to hers. She hesitated. Just for a second. Just long enough for him to pull away from her. But Sasuke barely took a breath before Sakura touched her lips to his.

[joshslater]

The Reformatory

A rewrite of jd07201990′s swimmer story. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

T -1

Dear diary or however you are supposed to start.

So tomorrow is the big day. Dad and I are sleeping at a Holiday Inn at the other side of the state. Well, I'm obviously not sleeping. How could I? So I thought I should start a journal of some sort to document this experience.

Some background. Two months ago I was in a fight with Mark Samberg on the football team. It had gotten pretty bad between the football schmucks and us swimmers. The jockheads were constantly harassing us, calling us fags and prissy boys. It happened often and was getting boring. As the captain of the swim team I asked Mark to knock it off and get his players in line. Idiot as he is he tried to knock me out instead, and I lost it. In our scramble I managed to knock him down and was about to kick him in the shin when he shifted and instead I connected with his knee. Apparently it fractured. He'll be able to walk and even run, but he'll not be able to play again for years, so he lost his Scholarship.

His family sued everyone they could. Me, the school, the swim coach. In the end all the lawyers sat down in a room with a local judge and came up with something they all could agree to. Mark gets some study assistance to get his grades up, the school had this quickly brushed under the carpet, and could pretend I was never student there. Me not graduating wasn’t really a blow, as my college fund now went to pay for Mark’s education, as compensation. They were rich enough to afford it anyway, but they wanted to see punishment. I get the honor to spend the next 180 days at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center, where I will "participate in all scheduled exercises, activities, therapies, meals and medication programs". They can tack on some extra days for bad behavior without going back to the judge, but essentially I get 6 months at bad boy camp for standing up to bullies.

What will I do there? No idea. The website talks a lot about work ethics and responsibility and working together with the local community. Sounds like labor camp to me. I'll guess we'll know tomorrow. But first we have to visit the hospital for a check up. My first day in prison will mostly not be in prison!

Day 1, Monday

We started with a checkup at the hospital, and man did they do a thorough job. Our appointment was at 10, but before that I had to fill out a form with 100 questions. The doctor spent more than 30 minutes doing the most extensive check I've ever had. Not only that, but after the check we had to go to the sample lab to draw blood, and finally I had a CT scan at noon. After that, and a quick lunch, we drove to the actual reformation center, which was in a smaller town 2 hours away.

It's an old boarding school building that they've turned into this "Reformation Center", and it clearly looks more like a prison than a school. Just a heap of two story brick and concrete buildings out in nowhere. Not much of security, but then everyone was there "voluntarily", meaning that we all had a proper punishment waiting for us if we left. I hugged dad goodbye and was shown to Mr. Kerwin’s office by the entrance guard.

Mr. Kerwin was a lean, ripped man in his forties that oozed military discipline. He explained that he was responsible for my rehabilitation and that he wouldn't start soft. He would give me a packed schedule, and if I didn't pull my weight he would add more days for "noncompliance". If I didn't like it I could run back to judge Stephenson and ask to start over in juvie.

Perhaps that would be better, because the schedule he showed me was totally insane.

4:30-5:00  Breakfast 5:00-8:00  Exercise pass 1 8:00-12:00 Work pass 1 12:00-12:30 Lunch 12:30-14:30 School 14:30-17:30 Work pass 2 17:30-18:00 Dinner 18:00-21:00 Exercise pass 2 21:30       Lights out

He explained that my breakfast, lunch and dinner would be pre-portioned and I was required to eat all of it. The exercise passes would be lead by himself or one of the assistants. Again, I would have to follow every instruction. The work passes were done at local businesses that wanted an extra hand, and changed depending on demand. The school passes were done as a group on whatever subject Mr. Reed selected.

Next he ordered me to get naked and place all my clothes on top of my bag and move to the other side of the room. Having done so he pointed at a stack of clothes on the table and told me to pick my size and get dressed. I quickly dressed in one of the track suits from the table. There was a baseball cap also, which confused me, but was told that it was instead of sunglasses when working outdoor.

With that I was given a rule book to study and was led by an assistant to my room where a dinner was waiting. Turkey, rice, water. I was reminded of lights out at 21:30 and wake up at 4:30. The assistant left and locked the door. 10 minutes later he came back with my journal book and pen, and told me that they'll keep the rest for now.

Having eaten the dinner and having three hours (I'm almost sure 21:30 is 9:30 PM) to kill before the lights go out I'm now summarizing the day. I'm sitting in something very similar to a prison cell. Bed, toilet, sink. Everything is clean, though somewhat worn. Looking into the mirror is kind of depressing though. I look like some jailed gang member.

It's kind of weird that I haven't met any of the other inmates, sorry students, here. I saw some of them while coming in, but perhaps this is their kind of hazing, or they do an official presentation tomorrow. Anyway, I should study the rule book and go to bed, since I didn't sleep much last night.

Day 2, Tuesday

So much to write about, so little time. I might have to split this into several entries since lights out is in 20 minutes.

I was awaken at 4:30 and given a tray with a large bowl of porridge and berries and some chalky smoothie or shake or whatever to drink. After that an assistant lead me to the gym room where we went over various machines, mainly for cardio. Elliptical, bike, treadmill. Weird thing was that it was only us two in the room during all three hours.

Sweaty and a bit tired I was then taken outside to a bus where some of the other boys where chilling. Apparently everyone else had breakfast between 7 and 8. They had no idea why I didn't join them there. The bus then drove around town and the driver announced who should exit where. My group of four people exited at a farm before town, only about 5 minutes away. I don't know exactly since I haven't been given my watch back.

There we spent hours just moving hay. Don't they know about tractors? Sweaty, itchy, tired and hungry we were then picked up and driven back. At lunch was the first time I saw the real common area. To my surprise there were more boys there than had been on the bus.

Everyone else could pick what they wanted from what was served, but I was given a ready tray with an heap of salmon and pasta. I was starving though, so it wasn't a problem to eat it all. I didn't have much time to talk, but the guys at my table were nice. Somewhat rough, as could be expected. Apparently you were chosen for the different work assignments, and if you were not picked you stayed at the center for sports or craft or similar things.

After Lunch followed a session with Mr. Reed. The first boring hour was on English grammar and the second boring hour on US geography. I aced the quizz getting all 50 states and state capitols right, so I didn't learn anything new after that. Then Mr. Reed announced who had work assignments, and I was again selected.

This time I and Troy were dropped off at a different farm where we spent almost three hours helping with fencing. Mainly carry posts and sawing them to length.

For dinner I had some meatballs with roasted sweet potatoes while everyone else had meatballs with tomato sauce. Mr. Kerwin picked me up and led me to the gym. Unlike the morning session this was all about weight training. Most of it was on finding my limits for different exercises while Mr. Kerwin pointed out how I could improve my form. You could tell that this was what he liked to do, and encouraged me to push a bit further. Once we were done I had a bottle of post workout mix of some sort and a very quick shower before rushing back to my room.

Here's the thing. My room is on a different floor than the other guys. Also, my schedule appears to be different and much more rigid than the rest of the guys. I also

Day 3, Wednesday

I couldn't finish the last entry before they cut the light. My entire body is in pain right now. I woke up like that, and it didn't go away all day. Same schedule as yesterday, but different tasks and different dishes. The assistant really pushed today during the morning session, so I was exhausted already at the bus. Planting bushes at the city park all morning didn't help. I got some rest during Reeds rehash of elementary math. Then back to doing fences, and top it all off with weight training. I asked Mr. Kerwin about the schedule and why it was so different from everyone else’s. He said that everyone's schedule is individual and that he'll adjust mine as needed.

One more weird thing before I fall to sleep. Everyone else is using their normal clothes. I haven't gotten mine back yet.

Day 4, Thursday

FUCK! I was back on moving hay today again, with Sam, Trevor and Rick. I'm still hurting like hell and Rick is one lazy motherfucker, so old fart Farmer Joe decided to complain. The end result is that I am getting 2 days added for noncompliance. Sam, Trevor and Rick got nothing. WTF!

Day 5, Friday

We were carrying merchandise all morning and Troy heckled me on how I got more days because of the piece of shit Rick. But he then said that it was a weird coincidence that every work shift I've been on has been the toughest one.

Instead of going to class I met with the doctor from the hospital who made a visit. He asked me about how I felt, where I was sore etc. Then he gave me an injection which he said would ease things for me. I didn't feel much different, but I was getting really sleepy getting back to Mr. Reeds class, but it might just be that everything he did was too simple and boring.

Apparently while I had a check up Troy had shared his theory about me being a work magnet, so there were some groans from the guys placed in my group. God damn fence work again.

Man, I'm tired. I was tired even before Mr. Kerwin gave me the toughest weight pass ever. Fuck, I'm tired.

Day 6, Saturday

So the weekend schedule is different. There is still a morning work pass, basically only used by the local farmers. But the afternoon is free both on Saturdays and Sundays. Conditions and terms applies, apparently. Since I haven't done any cleaning or dishes all week (how could I?), I'm assigned washing clothes, sheets etc. Man, how much better it is to carry laundry than hay. Best job assignment all week. Lots of downtime. Only real drawback is all the humidity. It’s steamy AF here.

Still fucking 3h workout pass in the morning and evening. The other boys were pretty vocal in mocking me on my way to the gym.

Day 7, Sunday

So the day started out as any other so far. Woke up sore. Breakfast alone and 3 hour gym session. There are no work passes outside LARC on Sundays, so I was hit with cleaning, together with Kyle G. and Rick. Rick ghosted after like three minutes, but KG did a solid work. It took us all the time til lunch though to finish it.

Then my first free couple of hours all week. It’s insane. The other guys were low key avoiding me, so I did what Mr. Kerwin had suggested and had a walk in the forest. It was actually kind of nice, and for some weird reason I didn’t feel like sitting still.

Day 8, Monday

Same shit again. Mr. Kerwin gave me a shot in the arm this evening. Apparently I’ll have one each Monday from now on. Whatever.

Also I found out today that the others don’t have formal lights out. I’m on my own floor so they can lock me up and cut the power. What the fuck?

Day 9, Tuesday

That fucker Rick slacked off again, taunting me about another two days. Ha! I got 10. Mostly for kicking him in the teeth. They locked me in my room, so I had lunch there and sat in this boring ass cell during class and work. Fuck, I don’t know what’s worse. I had to do some body weight exercises to keep sane. Fuck this shit.

Back again. I still got to have my evening workout. Kerwin was pushing harder than ever. The order of exercises was different too. Apparently to make the major muscles tired so smaller muscle groups then get to work. Or something. I don’t give a shit.

Day 11, Thursday

They fucking work now, don’t they the little shits. They know I ruined someones career to get here and another one for slacking off. They better pull there weight

Day 14, Sunday

I think I’ll stick to just write on Sundays. There is only half an hour from evening gym to lights out, so there isn’t much time for writing. I’ve even skipped shower a few times. It’s not like it matters when you start every fucking day getting soaked with cardio. Not like there are any girls around to impress either. Sunday has a different vibe tho. Cleaning, running in the forest and taking a long shower.

Starts and ends with fucking gym time though.

Day 21, Sunday

I really fucking like the forest runs. Its like you don’t have to think and can just run wherever and grab whatever and smash whatever. Fucking love it

Day 28, Sunday

Yay! A full fucking month!

It’s crazy though how much stronger I’m. I have gone up one size larger track suite and 2 sizes larger sneakers. Working hard to make me the best I guess.

Day 42, Sunday

guess i forgot about writing last week. i think the monday shots make me angry or something because last week fucked up someone else on tuesday. at least they all give me fucking respect at least.

Day 92, Monday

i dont give a shit abot reeds borin ass lessons and they fuckin repeat on a loop or some shit. today he was back on gramr and the states. i most time dont fill out his shit but wanted to do it again today. fucking aced most of the states. not so good on the capitols tho

Day 203, Sunday

only 2 weeks left tomorrow lol then im gonna yeet the fuck outta here !!!! adios motherfuckas

Mr. Kerwin enters the room, carrying a folder, and walks behind his desk, not even looking at me. I am sitting in his precious fucking antique chair I pulled from the corner. He’s sitting his ass down, rifles through the papers in the folder and starts to read from one of them.

“John Hamlin agrees to 180 days of rehabilitation training at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center, where he will participate in all scheduled exercises, activities, therapies, meals and medication programs, with a possible extension of 30 days for noncompliance and a possible extension of 60 days for infractions as described by the Juvenile Rehabilitation Act (JuRA), section 1103 (b).”

He looks up at me. It sounded like easy shit when I said yes to it. I thought half a year in a bad boy summer camp, or worst case something like prison, but that would have been miles better than this fucking non-stop hard labor shit. And 180 days was a fucking joke. They never fucking intended that to be the actual time. Have someone else slack off and the slap another 2 days to the time. Kick a chair to pieces, 5 days. Punch a guy for being a cunt, 10 days. I’m close to having another fucking outburst again. It must be all that fucking shit they put in the food or shakes or whatever. I fight it. I don’t want to show any emotion in front of him. I don’t think he buys my shit.

“There is another document in the agreement that you haven’t heard. This one between Mark and judge Andrews.”

He pulls out another paper from the folder and read it.

“The state hereby directs Mark Samberg, or person(s) by him so designated, to design and oversee the rehabilitation program of John Hamlin to be administrated at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center. This includes physical exercises, physical therapy, education, consoling, dietary plan and medication, as long as it fulfills the positive development criteria (Appendix D), is within the available services at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center (Appendix A) and within the given budget (Appendix C). Additional services require external financing and approval from the Reformation Center management (Appendix B).”

That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Why the hell had the judge put Mark in charge of my schedule? I understand why he’d want to make the experience suck as much as fucking possible for me, by why had everyone agreed to it? Kerwin looks at me as if he can read an open book.

“You are wondering what has happened to you. What was the meaning of all this? Stand up.”

I jump to my feet. There are still weeks he can add to my time here, and I don’t want to give him any fucking reason to add some shit.

“Stand with your feet as close together as you can.”

He’s never asked me to do that before. I can easily tap me feet together, but I can’t really stand still with my feet right next to each other for long. What the fuck is this bullshit? My thighs are too massive for that.

“Sit down again.”

He leans back and watches me with a bemused smirk.

“Imagine that you’d been away from swimming half a year. Even if you kept in shape it would take you months to be back in good enough technique to clear the swim team tryouts. But you have not kept in shape, have you? You have a completely new shape.”

The blood is draining from my face. I understand where this is going.

“With your upper body build you can physically really only do butterfly strokes properly, but if you can’t bring your feet together the leg kick will just be a wild thrashing of water. You swimming medley would be a hilarious joke. We haven’t even talked about you almost doubling in weight, and how much more oxygen you would need to swim. Sure, you are much stronger now, but old you would swim circles around new you. And that is of course the point. If Mark couldn’t have his sports career, he didn’t want you to have yours either. And the judge agreed.”

I’m surprised that the chair doesn’t break, as hard as I’m squeezing it. I’m boiling with fucking rage. I have to really focus to not to act on it.

“Now the judge specifically set out that this transformation couldn’t be punishment in itself, but rather that you were trained in a way that just wasn’t optimal for swimming. We may have gone a bit overboard with the body building to leave you many options though. You’ll obviously never be competitive in anything with speed or agility, like football or boxing. The metabolic conditioning, hormone treatment and gene therapy have far to long lasting effects to change you back from where you are now. You could try wrestling or weight lifting though, unless you mind showing your erection through spandex.”

“What the fuck?”, I said, as much as a general question to all the things he’d said. What does metabolic conditioning mean? Gene therapy? Erections?

“The medical regimen that Marks family found for you kind of put the feet on both the gas and the break at the same time. It forces the body to grow a lot at the same time as we try to stop it, so it has to try even harder. By injecting stem cells with the right CRISPR-modified DNA we could get rapid, major and long lasting changes. Well, I say we, but all I did was to make sure you kept to the exercise regimen, for a little cash on the side… Surely you didn’t think you got larger feet and dick from eating much and working hard?”

I don’t understand exactly what they done to me, but the result is pretty fucking clear. There was no way I would swim competitively ever again, if I could even fucking swim at all now. I would come out of here looking like a fucking balloon animal muscle jock, and shedding the muscles back to where I were would take shitloads of years.

“The hormone treatment finished two weeks ago and last blood sample shows that your natural hormone levels will keep you muscled and pumped probably well into your forties. So this morning I also cut you off from all suppressive medication as well. That is going to spike your hormone levels and mess quite a bit with you, so we need to see just how badly fucked up you are before we can release you.”

“The good doctor say that you’ll be more irritable and have more excess energy than before. Both something you can work on with regular, hard exercise. But I want to see where you really are at now, so starting today you’ll have no required gym time and labor passes. You can wake up when you want, eat what you want and do what you want.”

“You said erections?”, I asked.

“Yeah, the suppression medication should have kept you limp. You haven’t jacked off while here, have you? Well, you heard what I said about gas and break and compensation. Your body has been pumping massive amounts of hormones into your blood, and will continue to do so. But now that you don’t have the suppressives anymore you should expect to be horny for the next decade or two. You’ll be nothing but a lumbering muscle dildo.”

There’s a crack somewhere inside the wood of the armrest. Fucking fourteen more days, I have to remind myself. Don’t fuck any shit up before then. If I let go of the chair I’m quite positive I will knock him the fuck out. Fourteen fucking more shit days.

[yoon-kooks]

Witch Hazel- Pt.5

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff

Summary: There are two students in your art class with a secret: you and the quiet Jeon Jungkook. You’re a problematic idol singer, infamous for your ice cold reputation and perpetual resting bitch face; he’s the artist and author behind the viral comic series based on a certain ice queen idol. After a blowup of destructive rumors, lost motivation and inevitable solitude, you stumble upon Jungkook’s comic and find a new and unexpected light.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: none

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?

-

“So are you in, Jimin?”

“I’m in,” he chuckles at your little proposal. His laugh retains its charm, even through the phone. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little jealous of that charming quality of his. “But can I ask you something, Snow?”

“Go for it.”

“Why me?”

“To prove a point,” you say. “You also have something to prove, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t have shown up at my concert that night despite being well aware of how the public and media would react.”

“Right… Sorry about that, by the way.” You hear the sorrow still beating him up in his lowered voice. It makes sense that he feels the need to blame himself for all the backlash you received, but he shouldn’t have to feel guilty when all he wanted was a little freedom as a normal human being and not as the perfect idol the world makes him out to be.

“It’s fine, Jimin. We may be glorified idols at the top of the industry, but there are a lot of things we have no control over.”

“True… Sometimes it seems like the only way to escape the judgment of the public eye is to hide behind a mask, huh.” Jimin sighs. “But we can’t always live like that either.”

“Exactly.”

After hanging up, you toss your phone aside and pick up your guitar.

-

On your way to class, you’ve made a habit of checking jk.seagull’s blog for any updates on Witch Hazel, and you’re delighted when you find this new text post:

“it’s not done yet, but I’m planning on posting a new chapter this afternoon after class!”

To celebrate the occasion, you stop by your local coffee shop to pick up a special mocha with extra whipped cream. You’re already late for class after failing to hear your five alarms this morning anyway. And besides, maybe you deserve a little pick-me-up after all the writing you’d done the night before. For once, you feel pretty good about the direction you’re headed in.

Not even a scolding by your professor could ruin your mood.

“Oh, Y/N. How nice of you to join us,” your professor motions for you to take your seat as soon as you step foot into the art room. “I was just talking about how certain students have not been taking this class seriously as of late.”

She glances directly at you, along with your tablemates, Taehyung and Jungkook. “Sorry,” you mouth with a lack of sincerity, before taking a long sip of your mocha.

“And because of that,” the professor continues, “I’ve decided to move up the due date of our portrait project to tomorrow.”

A collective groan fills the room from the entire class, with the exception of those few lucky bastards who’ve already completed their project early. Once the class is dismissed, the scramble to actually get shit done begins. Even Taehyung opts to stick around as opposed to his usual obligations, and that speaks volumes.

As soon as your team relocates to one of the empty art studios nearby, however, it’s apparent that no one is really vibing with this project.

“So… what’s the assignment again?” Taehyung scratches his head. As much as you’d love to scold the boy for his lack of awareness of anything happening in art class, you haven’t been in the proper mindset to give the project any thought either.

“Something about drawing ourselves based on how others perceive us?” Jungkook yawns. “Or was it drawing each other’s portrait?”

“The first one, I think,” you say. “It doesn’t really make a difference when Jungkook’s gonna end up drawing Taehyung’s portion anyway.”

“True,” the boys say together. If there’s one thing you’ve learned from your art class shenanigans, it’s that the more you get to know someone, the easier it is to understand them and their actions—even if they’re completely different from you like Taehyung.

“If that’s the case, let’s hurry up and let each other know how we perceive one another. I have a doubleheader later on that I’d really hate to miss,” Taehyung nods in satisfaction at his clever wording for what you presume to be back-to-back one night stands. “I’ll start: Y/N, there’s not much I know about you besides the fact that you’re unfriendly, but I think that’s intentional. Like you’re hiding a dark secret or something. Jungkook, if you weren’t so shy, I’m sure you’d get laid more often.”

“Let’s not sugarcoat anything,” you roll your eyes. “I would say you, Taehyung, abuse your charm to get what you want. You use sleeping around as an excuse to avoid responsibility. And you embrace it because you fear that that’s the only thing people will ever acknowledge you for.”

“I’m not usually a masochist, but I kind of like it when you roast me like that, Y/N,” Taehyung shrugs it off, though you know you’ve hit the mark. Everyone has a poker face, and Kim Taehyung is no exception. To take the attention off of himself, he throws an arm around his favorite art buddy. “Roast this guy next.”

You glance over at Jungkook who’s in the midst of adding to your roast on Taehyung. It’s interesting to see how differently he acts with Taehyung, with you, and with everyone else. The more he knows someone, the less he withholds. If he knew you more, you wonder what he’d tell you. “I agree that if Jungkook weren’t so shy, there’d be more potential for a lot of things, but-”

Buzz! Taehyung looks down at his phone. “Well, that’s my cue. Jungkook, Y/N, you know what to do~”

“Have fun at your doubleheader,” you wave off your incompetent teammate until he’s out of sight. “Should we be enabling him like this?”

“Probably not. But even I can’t say no to that charm of his.” Jungkook sighs as he pulls out a blank sheet of bristol paper. In what feels like an instant, several dots and lines transform into a general outline of Taehyung’s face. “I’m surprised you haven’t fallen for his charm yet… unless…?”

“Look, I get the appeal of a smoothtalker who walks with confidence, but Taehyung really isn’t my type,” you laugh.

“Still, I’m a little envious of him.” Jungkook draws Taehyung a nice and natural wink. “Because he isn’t afraid to chase after what he wants.”

You want to tell the boy that he should chase after whatever it is he wants, but you know that’s easier said than done. After all, you know exactly how it feels to take that leap of faith, only to fall short before reaching the dream you so desired. So all you can do is nod and start working on your own portrait.

For about five whole minutes, you try to sketch out a decent upside-down egg shape for your head, but it always comes out a little lopsided or rough around the edges. Once you’ve got a little mountain of eraser shaving piling up, you decide it’s time to sneak a peek at Jungkook’s sketch to get an idea of how a well-seasoned artist draws a proper face.

What you see instead, however, is the boy staring back at your mountain of eraser shavings. You swear you hear a little pft come out of his mouth. The nerve.

“Hold your pencil like this,” he says, holding his own pencil with his pinky sticking out.

You replicate his grip, wiggling the pinky. “Is this some sort of weird pinky promise that artists do?”

Before Jungkook can even respond, your pinky is already linked to his. Funny how his finger curled around yours as if it were the most normal thing to do, but his burning cheeks say otherwise. You might’ve jumped the gun on this one.

After blinking at the empty pinky promise for a good three seconds, the boy finally lets go. “Use that pinky to steady your hand as you sketch.”

“Oh… right…” You feel a wildfire spreading across your own cheeks. Your dumbass somehow misinterpreted a drawing technique for something as childish as a pinky promise! Whether it’s because you’re flustered or just shitty at art, you fumble around to get your pencil on the paper. “…How do I do it again?”

Rather than trying to explain or demonstrate it to you, Jungkook motions for you to come closer. So you do. He takes your hand and individually sets each finger onto your pencil like a guitar teacher helping their student find the right chord position.

You’re pleasantly surprised by how gentle his touch is. Rather than forcing your fingers to conform to the conventional ways of an artist, he gives them the little push they need to find their own place along the length of the pencil—wherever is most comfortable for you.

Once you’ve got a good grip, Jungkook guides your pencil back to the canvas with your pinky just barely touching the drawing surface. “Now try drawing the outline of your face again.”

You do as you’re told and see immediate results. Although it’s not a perfect egg, your lines are noticeably smoother as if your skin had just been cleared. Jungkook gives you and your improved egg a thumbs-up, which you return with a thumbs-up of your own.

As you both resume your portraits, you can’t help but wonder if it was the tiny adjustment of how you held your pencil that made the difference. Or if it was Jeon Jungkook himself. You suppose only time will tell.

Several hours later, Jungkook has finished Taehyung’s portrait, you still need to color yours in, and an announcement goes off through the intercom.

“Due to the art auction charity event tonight, this building will be closing in ten minutes. Thank you.”

You groan. This is the worst case scenario for your damn group project. Because if you’re kicked out of the studio, you won’t have access to all of the necessary art supplies.

Unless…?

You exchange glances with the most devoted artist you know.

-

Jungkook’s apartment is not exactly how you imagined a weeby Snow stan’s habitat to look. There’s not a trace of Snow, nor is there a hint of magic anime girls floating around. But the one thing you did correctly predict is the amount of art scattered across the boy’s room.

Everywhere you look, you’re blown away by something different from the last. A painted city landscape detailed enough to be mistaken for an actual photo, a busy abstract pattern that makes the little wheels in your head spin, the familiar animation booklet of the flower in the snow, and an interesting little doodle that doesn't seem to scream “college art project”.

You try to make sense of what appears to be the chaos that ensues when the worlds of mathematics and music collide. Half of the basic times tables chart is replaced with values represented by music notes. The math nerd in you laughs when you see that a sixteenth note is correctly placed where two quarter notes align. Similarly, the music sheet on the other side of the doodle has a time signature of “75%” aka ¾ time aka the rhythm of a waltz.

“How old were you when you drew this one?” You point to the artwork titled Math Musician written in tiny font at the bottom corner next to the boy’s initials.

Jungkook chuckles, probably out of embarrassment. “I think I was ten.”

“Imagine being a talented artist at age ten. Can’t relate,” you clown yourself as you pull out your unfinished portrait from your art bag. In addition to looking “unfriendly”, your drawn face is rather lifeless and more so demonic for some reason. Hopefully some color will bring more dimension and life back into your flesh.

Just then, you realize you’ve made a fatal mistake.

“Umm, Jungkook?” you continue to stare down at your mistake. “I forgot to factor in your opinion of me into my portrait and now I just look unfriendly like Taehyung said.”

Jungkook tilts his head to get a better look at your monstrosity. His reaction could go one of three ways: he could laugh and give you a hard time about it, he could help you find a solution, or he could do both.

“You definitely nailed the ‘unfriendly’ part,” he snickers. “The RBF is strong with this one.”

“So you agree that I’m unfriendly?” On one hand, that would be good because you won’t have to revise your portrait if Jungkook shares the same opinion as Taehyung. On the other hand, you don’t want Jungkook to have that opinion of you.

“Not necessarily,” he says. “I think if people looked beyond your unfriendly demeanor, they’d find someone very different.”

Before you can ask the boy to elaborate, he has already left and come back with the solution to your problem: fancy coloring markers.

“Since you already drew your appearance based on Taehyung’s opinion, you can color it in based on my opinion, if that makes it easier.” Jungkook hands you an assortment of markers, though a large portion of them are just different shades of one color in particular. Yellow.

Yellow was the last color you were expecting. You expected cooler and darker tones like blues or greys to match your ice queen personality. But yellow? Yellow, to you, has always meant bright and happy.

“Yellow is a happy color, isn’t it?” You start swatching each shade of yellow to see how they translate onto a white canvas. Your favorite shade out of the bunch is the soft pale one called Banana Milk, but that still doesn’t mean it suits you. To prove your point, you hold up your unfriendly demon portrait to your actual face and pout. “Do either of these faces look happy to you, Jungkook?”

“No, but they do look silly.” The boy cracks a smile at your humor. “In a good way.” The way he smiles so brightly plants a dangerous little seed in your head. Maybe the yellow is meant to represent not how he perceives your feelings, but rather, how he perceives his own feelings for you.

-

By the time evening comes, you’ve shaded in every inch of your canvas, completing your portion of the portrait project. You were right—the bright colors really did help bring life back into your face, and there’s less of a demonic aura about it now.

It also looks like one big contradiction: an unfriendly-looking face with a cheerful brightness around it. But that’s probably what Jungkook was referring to when he said you were very different beneath your unfriendly mask.

As you stretch out your arms and yawn, you peek over at the boy’s progress with his portrait. He stares down at his markers scattered across the floor, pushing his long locks out of his eyes, in search of his next color. From the small portion that he has colored so far, you notice a big difference between his portrait and yours. While your color scheme is bright and flashy like a star, Jungkook’s is soft and subtle to mimic his shy and lowkey personality.

“Use this,” you toss him the Banana Milk marker and pull a scrunchie off your wrist, “and this too.”

Jungkook places the pale yellow marker down right on the area he’ll color next. He doesn’t, however, know what to do with the foreign hair accessory in his palm. He just blinks at it.

With a dramatic sigh, you join the boy on the floor and take back the scrunchie. Like a puppy with long bangs poking its eyes, he lets you comb your fingers through his hair before tying a tiny sprout on top of his head.

“So this is what the world looks like,” he nods, as if his long hair had greatly hindered his view of the world in front of him. At the same time, he spots the finished product of your portrait. “Your self-portrait is a lot different from how I would draw you.”

“I would’ve appreciated a compliment for my hard work, but go ahead and insult me, Jeon.” You square up.

“Oh sorry. You did a phenomenal job, Y/N.” He doesn’t even try to put effort into masking his sarcasm as pity praise. But that’s expected in how he hasn’t missed a single opportunity to tease you and your shitty art. “It’s just interesting how differently others interpret us from how we interpret ourselves.”

Now you’re curious. “How would you draw me then?”

“You want to see?” Jungkook pushes his own portrait aside and starts digging around for a sketchbook with a blank page to spare. What possesses him to prioritize a drawing of you before his own portrait that’s due in less than 24 hours? You won’t allow that.

“I want to see it after our project is finished, please,” you pull his unfinished portrait back in front of him before making yourself comfy on the boy’s bed. “In the meantime, I’ll be reading you-know-what.”

“Smut?” The boy has a dirty mind, it seems.

“Unless Witch Hazel plans on getting a little smutty, no, I will not be reading smut.” With a hmph, you scroll through jk.seagull’s blog. “I wonder if the new chapter is posted yet.”

Jungkook, too, picks up his phone with wide eyes when he hears you say “new chapter”. Your hype and excitement around the fanfic must be rubbing off on him.

But unfortunately for you, there is no new post since the one you saw before class. You make a sad booboo face, but it isn’t the end of the world either. You’ll just have to reread the series from the beginning as you wait for either Witch Hazel to be updated or Jungkook to finish the project. Whichever happens first.

“Wait, I think the seagull guy just posted something.”

You’ve never jumped onto your phone so quick when Jungkook mentions the seagull guy. It isn’t a new chapter of Witch Hazel, but instead another small text post.

“sorry for not updating witch hazel today like i said i would!! i was bombarded with an unexpected art assignment;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;”

Your sad booboo face disappears. It seems you’re not the only one struggling to find balance between the arts and the need to satisfy others. “Isn’t it funny that he’s an art student too?”

“Haha, yeah…” Jungkook’s voice fades as he returns to his portrait.

“Maybe that’s why I like his work so much,” you say, clicking back to the very first chapter of Witch Hazel where Snow is helping out those who she had unintentionally scared away with her witchcraft. “He just gets it.”

“He gets what?”

With the biggest yawn, you shrug because you don’t really know how to put it into words. It just feels as though you and him think alike. And the thought of that is comforting enough to put you to rest until Jungkook finishes up the project.

“Y/N.” You hear things shuffling around in your half-asleep state. When you rise from mysterious pile of blankets on top of you, you see Jungkook putting his art supplies away and clearing space on the floor for him to camp out since you’ve apparently claimed his bed.

“Did you finish?” You check the time in the dimly lit room, and you’re shocked to see it’s past midnight.

“Yeah.” He pulls your scrunchie out of his hair and drops it into your palm. “Thank you for your service.”

“Keep it.” You slide the hair tie onto the boy’s wrist when you notice he looks a little different somehow. The hoodie he was wearing earlier is replaced with a plain white tee, and his torn jeans have become grey sweatpants. The unspoken reality of you stay over at the boy’s apartment is slowly becoming realized. “In exchange, I’d like to see how you’d draw me.”

“Already done,” he says, jogging to his desk and back to you with a page from his sketchbook in hand. “I drew you as a superhero.”

“What kind of superhero?” You kick the blankets off of you and reach for the drawing, but of fucking course, Jungkook pulls it back real quick just when you were about to snatch it. “Let me see!”

He keeps it hidden behind his back for a while until he gets a little too cocky and dangles it above where you’re sitting on the bed. It would be too predictable for you to reach for the hand with drawing in it, so you decide to aim for the other arm to trap him in.

But rather than latching onto his arm, you catch only a piece of the scrunchie around his wrist, causing you both to lose balance. Your back hits the soft bedding as you stare up into the eyes of the boy who just so happened to land on top of you. Aha, you finally figure out why he looked a little different after you woke up. No glasses, just his handsome brown eyes.

You’d give yourself a pat on the back for figuring that out if you weren’t distracted by the drawing of you as a “superhero”. You were expecting something tough like the Avengers or Sailor Moon or even Izuku Midoriya. But instead you see someone who looks very much like yourself with a guitar and yellow flower crown.

“That’s not a superhero,” you say quietly.

“There are people who would feel otherwise.” Jungkook plops down next to you on his stomach.

“Like who?”

“Like people you share your music with.”

You bite your lip before rolling off the bed to run and get something. When you hop back onto the bed, you drop a pencil into Jungkook’s hand make him hold it with his pinky out like he had shown you earlier. You do the same with another pencil and link your pinky to his once more.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.”

[blue-eyes-and-auburn-hairr]

Second Chances Chp. 4

Disclaimer: Okay, I got more notes than I thought I ever would, so while the world is quarantined...I wrote another part.

Warning: Mention of death, fluff, I don’t want to mislead anyone this will very much be a slowburn

Summary: Can you imagine being widowed at such a young age to a man you thought you’d have forever with? On the anniversary of his death, on top of a mountain, Thea and Chris begin their new journey together.

(I want to experiment with a different perspective if its trash I’ll redo this chp. )

Thea had no idea why it was so hard to ghost this guy. It should be easy, they hung out for half a day a week ago. He should already have her out of his head, but no he still continues to call. 

“Ms. Mulligan I finished reading the chapter what should I do now?” Thea’s 3rd period reading support class was currently working on finishing their novel. She would typically read to them but her mind had been scattered all week. 

“Kay, why don’t you draw a picture of your favorite chapter so far on the smartboard?” Thea prompts, knowing that Kay loves to draw and she really is interested in the novel...even if she won’t admit it. 

“Can I listen to music, puhleaseee?” She spins around with a great big smile on her face. 

“As long as you don’t blast it and its not that Billie Eye Lash person,” Thea rolls her eyes with a smirk knowing what would follow. 

“Mully, you’re embarrassing yourself you know her name is Billie Eilish because I’ve stalked your Spotify playlist, right Kai?” Kai, who was too busy reading the next chapter to even look up when she responds, “Yeah Mully, we are currently working on one of those mixtapes for you so be prepared.” 

The nickname Thea fought for a good three months but finally caved when her co-workers started using it as well. As for the Spotify stalking, not surprised more impressed and she was now looking forward to the next mixtape they give her. 

Last semester, Thea assigned the class a project that required them to find a song to coincide with each chapter of their novel. The students also had to write one paragraph explaining why they choose each song. That was when the revolting started for about 20 minutes until Andrew, in the back of the class, had enough and shouted, “She is legit letting us listen to music all class period and write like 10 paragraphs for a week. The other students have to write an essay on like literary devices or something and they had to read the book all by themselves.” 

“Legit?” Kay announced shocked.

“Legit Kay, legit,” Thea sighs, “Also we have like 78 words on the word wall can we work on using one of those instead of ‘legit’?” 

“Bet.” Kai says with her hand in the air and at that point, Thea just puts her head down silently laughing. 

Her phone buzzed on her desk again, this time it was just a CNN update but the missed call was still staring her in the face. All Thea has felt since that night was guilt. She felt like she was cheating on Jamie and all they did was hug before getting in their own cars and driving away. The bubble burst though on the drive home when the waterworks wouldn’t stop and she had to pull over on the side of the road almost three times. 

And then Sunday morning, her phone rings and she watches as it goes to voicemail and then it vibrates again with a voicemail. She stares at her phone for a few more minutes before playing the message. 

Hey Thea, I just wanted to call and check in on you. You never messaged me when you got home last night and I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Leaving West Point now and you were right I think I definitely made the guard’s day.  I’m sure you are busy getting ready for the school day tomorrow but if you have a second to talk I’m around. Okay, take care now. 

He called one more time that evening but no message. It was now Friday and Thea had five missed calls and two messages in total. She did not know how to process all of this and she had been burying herself in work trying to stay busy avoiding the topic. She did that with most things and she knew it wasn’t going to end well and that she was being selfish. So she picked up her phone and tried to type out a text, but then the bell rang and the class started to pack up. 

“Okay, guys I’ll see most of you in 7th and 8th for Math, make sure to have your homework notebook, hint, hint hint,” Thea says with a wink. She knew their anxiety would soar if they walked in not knowing about a homework check so she always made sure she casually mentioned something to them. Her co-teacher was not a fan of this, but her kids, her decision. 

Thea now had a prep period and then lunch to try and sort out all of her thoughts. She even had time to call Chris back, but she did not trust herself to keep her emotions in check, especially while at work. 

Hey Chris, Sorry for the disappearing act. I’m still just trying to process everything and work has kept me occupied. Can we talk tonight? Text, call or even facetime if that’s easier.  Sorry again. 

Chris’ phone finally vibrated in his pocket as he was walking out of a bagel shop in New York City. He was supposed to make his way to Boston to see his family after his trip upstate but that was sidetracked by some work stuff. 

His new movie, “Captain America: Civil War was being released in a few weeks and he had a few talk shows and then the Lower Manhattan premiere was on May 4th. He knew he was going to be in town for some time now and wanted to see Thea again. 

She just didn’t want to see him. 

He had no idea what he did wrong and wanted a chance to see her and explain that. So when she finally answered him back he wasn’t sure how to respond. He would prefer to talk in person but did not want to upset her or whatever else he may have done. He tried to call his brother for some advice but that call went to voicemail as well, but his mom picked up on the first ring. 

“Chris, honey you okay?” 

“Yeah Ma, I just needed a little advice and Scott didn’t answer,” he admits to his mother.

“Well, why would you call him before me? Does he give better advice or somethin’?” This was a rabbit hole Chris would very much like to avoid. 

“It’s about a girl Ma, he already knows most of the back story,” Chris sighs through the phone.

“Ahh, so this is about the girl you met on the hike, well more like Dodger found, who you had to call your brother about in the bathroom while on a date with her?” 

“Wait what? We weren’t on a date and wow did he really tell you everything?” Chris says in complete shock. “And let the record show that I called him when SHE was in the bathroom.”

“Of course he did, I’m his mother, he tells me everything” cue the eye roll. 

“Okay Ma, and yes I called Scott, obviously that was a mistake,” Chris chuckles “He apparently blabbed everything.” Chris still wasn’t sure why he called his brother when Thea went to the bathroom, he just was so happy for the first time in a while that he needed to tell someone.

“So this is the girl that you’re going to marry, huh?” His mother bluntly states, causing Chris to almost drop his phone. 

“What the fuck did Scott say? Who said anything about marriage? We talked for like four hours and she has been avoiding me all week.”

“Scott said you were going on and on about how you finally ‘found her’ which is why he called me 20 seconds after hanging up with you.” Thank goodness for the ballcap and the glasses or all of NYC would see the flushed cheeks of Christopher Evans. 

“Okay, can we circle back to that whole topic later? Or maybe after I have a word with my kid brother. How do I ask her to meet up with me tonight when she only wanted to talk on the phone? Is that too forward? Should I just say yes to the phone call?” Chris continued to ramble to his mother. 

“It can’t hurt to ask,” such a simple response and yet it was perfect. “Just mind your manners, you were raised better Christopher.”

“Thanks, Ma,” Chris says finally smiling because he has a plan. 

“And if you need to call anyone on this date, call me not your brother,” she chuckles on the phone. “Love you and let me know how it goes.”

“Love you too”

Hey Thea, a phone call would be perfect unless you would want to meet up in person? I’m still in New York and would really like to see you again. If you wanted to meet in the city or someplace by you...whatever is easier. 

Thea wanted to act like she was shocked by the message but she understood. Jamie and her relationship started out as long-distance, so when you have the opportunity to see someone in person you jump. 

She didn’t know if she was ready for all of this, but she also knew it wasn’t fair to Chris. They needed to talk and put all of their cards on the table.

I would like to see you again too, but whatever is easier for you.

Long Beach is about an hour train ride to the city, but not sure would be better for you with people and stuff. 

You could also come here and we could get some ice cream and take a walk on the boardwalk? If that doesn’t sound too cliche...

The bell is going to ring so no rush we can figure this out after school. 

Thea finally stopped blowing up his phone by her overthinking and put her phone in her bag for the rest of the school day. 

The afternoon went by in a flash, Thea waited until she got into her car after school to look at her phone. 

Not cliche at all, that sounds perfect. I can be to you by 7, just send me the address of the ice cream shop 

Thea forwarded the address and then made her way home. She had a few hours to kill before she would see Chris so she tried to busy herself with things to do to prevent the overthinking. 

Chris on the other head couldn’t stop the overthinking and the worst-case scenarios that played out in his head. He has so many things to worry about with the movie and all the press but he cannot get her beautiful smile out of his head. 

He just didn’t know what it was about her, everything about Thea just seemed authentic. She had been dealt such a tough hand that would make any person cold and distant, but she still wears her heart on her sleeve.  Even Dodger could see her genuine soul and stepped in to defend her when we were on the mountain. Chris just wanted to get to know her better, he thought he might miss out on something unbelievable if he just walked away. He also understood that she was still so hurt and wanted to help her in any way that he could. 

Chris thought about that while driving down to the ice cream shop and pulling into the parking lot a few minutes early. He spotted Thea as she was laying down a blanket in the trunk of her Jeep. He could only see the back of her and he was glad she was wearing something comfy and casual. It made him feel better about his jeans and t-shirt that took him an hour to finally commit too. He parked his car and made his way over to her, he closed his truck door loudly and called her name so he didn’t startle her. She didn’t turn around, she was too busy struggling with her own nerves. She had been fixing this blanket for a good 10 minutes and trying to decide whether or not it was lame and if she should scrap the whole idea. She didn’t even have a clue that Chris was behind her for a few minutes before she actually turned around with a jump. 

“Sorry, I was trying so hard not to scare you but you didn’t respond when I called your name a few times,” stumbled with his words. 

Thea kept a hand over her heart trying to steady her breathing and when it was finally calmed she looked up to see Chris’ concerned expression. 

Thea couldn’t help but laugh, “Well you looked like the last time we met too, only I had a knife in my hand and yet you look more scared now.” 

And just like that the tension that had worried them both had broken as Thea walked over to give Chris a big hug. They make there way over to the line and ordered two sundaes and then head back to her car. 

“I figured we could sit here while we ate our ice cream and then head to the boardwalk, its a few minutes away but I didn’t want the sundaes to melt” 

Chris continues staring at his ice cream trying to find a way to ask the question that had been driving him crazy all week. He didn’t know how to phrase it without making the situation worse. 

Thea scoots back into the car and sits like a pretzel, “So let’s talk about it before the elephant in the room gets any bigger.” Thea used to be all about beating around the bush but after everything that happened, time is one thing you can never get back. 

“Did I do something to upset you? I have been trying to figure out why you didn’t answer and I am coming up short” Chris admits finally looking away from his ice cream. 

“You did nothing wrong and I don’t want to sound like an asshole when I say that this had nothing to do with you,” Thea says while running her fingers through her hair. Chris sits patiently giving her a second to collect her thoughts. 

“I want to explain this right, so please take everything I say with a grain of salt because I am bound to put my foot in my mouth” Thea sets the stage with a disclaimer because she is absolutely terrified of the direction this could go. 

“You know that feeling when you are exercising or playing a sport and your breaths are coming shorter and the tightness in your chest is growing? You can still breath but it’s a struggle and you cannot wait for it to subside? And then finally you stop and you catch your breath and the air in your lungs fills again and you know you are going to be okay?” Chris nods along to Thea’s analogy trying to see where she was going with this. 

Thea takes a second to collect her words again, “Chris, I have been trying to catch my breath for three years now and no outlet, no resource, nothing was helping. The panic attacks while I was awake and even when I was sleeping, I just couldn’t...” Thea tries to collect herself shaking the tears from eyes refusing to let them spill. “And then I ask Jamie for a sign that it’s okay for me to stop running and I turn around and there you were” Thea clears her throat again.

“And Chris, I finally started breathing again.”

“Then we hugged and I got in my car and started to drive away and all at once it was gone and my lungs were aching and I was terrified and lost all over again” Chris is not sure at what point he reached for her hand but he was gently squeezing it as Thea continued to shake her head. 

“Out of nowhere, I was angry at myself that I let this happen and how I was a fool for thinking I could be normal again.” Thea pulled her hand away, “I woke up to the text you sent me and then the guilt set in. I felt guilty being happy with you and wanting to answer you and then guilty because I was not being fair to you and then guilty because we only knew each other for a few hours and I was giving so much power to something that wasn’t real.”  She swirls the melting ice cream in her lap, “and now I am just sad because sitting here with you right now with all these emotions I am breathing just fine.”

“And I am scared of what will happen next.” 

Chris had no idea how to react to all of this, she had so many layers and so much going on and unintentionally he hurt her. Thea was right though this wasn’t about him but the fact that he was helping and hurting her at the same time was making his head spin. Nothing was sitting right with him and maybe ice cream wasn’t the best choice because his stomach was churning. 

“I don’t know what to say, the thought that I am causing you pain, it makes me sick. Why would you say this isn’t real though?”

“Chris,” Thea sighs “I don’t know, you’re you and I’m me and I am talking this Chris not that other guy so don’t jump to conclusions. I am filled with scars and a heart that may never work again. You are so sweet and caring and could be anywhere right now and yet you are here with me eating ice cream in my trunk. We only talked for one evening, it just doesn’t make sense.” 

“Isn’t that how all great stories start though, with a great evening that leads to many more?”

“Chris, the only thing I can offer you is a hand to hold and friendship, I don’t think I can handle much more and that’s not fair to you.”

“Deal, sold, I’ll take it. Now let’s head to the boardwalk before it gets too chilly” Chris says while taking the melted ice cream and tossing it. 

“Wait what?” Thea says completely taken back. 

“I am not done getting to know you and I have a feeling this will all be worth it,” Chris says with a smirk. 

“Chris, I really don’t…” Chris cut Thea off, “I’m an optimist so let’s just enjoy each other’s company, okay?” 

Thea nods and recommends that Chris should follow her back to her apartment building to leave his truck so that they can just walk from there to the boardwalk, parking was bound to be crazy on this warm spring night. When they finally park and head to the boardwalk, Chris, optimistically, grabs Thea’s hand and they start their walk with the breeze from the open pushing them along. 

Chris decides while looking at her windblown hair, that he is going to help her no matter what. She deserves so much happiness in this life, Chris made a silent promise to her that all of her hardest days were behind her.  

Giving her hand an extra squeeze, Chris looks out into the distance and makes the same promise to the night sky that was watching over her.

@chi00072 @capstopavenger​

[tazzykiki]

I’m tired, angry and bored so here we go! A messy list of fucked up Public School Things that may or may not be a universal experience:

The Lunches were a mix of good and horrible:

I was usually fine with the lunches because they were pretty decent and, like, yay food! But looking back they were just, so wrong????

Like in my middle school lunches AND breakfast were a mess. I got food poisoning like once or twice from the breakfast and the lunch was pitiful. At one point they just stopped cooking the pasta and left a bunch of uncooked, powdery noodles in a plastic box like anyone was gonna grab them and be like “mm yes! my favorite! hard noodles!”. Like what the actual fuck.

The pizza was also in a box, none of the toppings were labeled so it was a gamble on what type you would get, and most of the time they were burnt. In HS the pizza was fine but it tasted fake as hell and I’m pretty sure they just took some rubber and put cheese on it.  

My HS lunches were better but even then it was just, really concerning how limited and odd the food was. Luckily we didn’t have to pay except for like cookies and stuff smaller than your hand that costs like $2 cuz they want to “promote healthiness” despite feeding us what is basically prison food.

The class sizes were horrifying: I’m sorry but what person can teach 30+ rowdy kids and be perfectly fine??? Not to mention this was the norm the whole day! Imagine grading all those papers, keeping track of every student, and making sure they all shut up long enough to teach. And that’s just for the teachers who actually care.

Like a class size should be a max of 20 with a few exceptions. Do you know how stressful it is for everyone involved? Not to mention, 30 kids was considered SMALL!! Some classes had 40, even 50 STUDENTS!!!! WHAT THE FUCK.

We never had enough books, or supplies, or anything. Usually by the half point of the year, half the books would be missing or destroyed and it was a mess. In HS the Drama and Music teachers had to deal with like, one class of 10-20, and then like 5 classes of 40-50(all mixed grades too). And you know what’s even more fucked up? There was only one of each teacher.

There was one drama teacher. Who btw deserves the world and legit cares about her job and students. I honestly hope she quit and went somewhere better. She had to put up with 40+ screaming kids, grade all of those assignments, deal with insult and harassment(she was plus-sized and white. So she couldn’t talk back, would get insulted, and more.The only white people allowed to be sassy in that school were funny white men that were laid back), and had barely enough supplies to get by.

There was one music teacher. Who also deserves the world and legit cares about her job and students. She had to deal with 40-50, almost 60+, kids. The majority of them being sophomores and freshman, with bits of seniors and juniors. She taught music, taught band, and organized events and performances. She is, I believe, the first and only music teacher in that school and that’s just so fucked up. Like imagine being one person and having to manage hundreds of students like that.

There was only one digital arts teacher but I have no idea what they did since you can’t choose what class you attend. I just know it was constantly crowded, never really applauded, and they weren’t involved in a lot of things.

Oh yes how could I forget the art teacher! Yeah no there was no art class that involved drawing and painting. Apparently that class was scrapped years ago and has now turned into a JROTC locker! :D Speaking of JROTC:

JROTC and Sports had too much support and that’s a serious problem:

Hey maybe it’s because I’m an art kid and I hate exercising(because every attempt to do so was met with laughter, humiliation, and the ridicule of my body even though I can’t control how my body grows and changes), but man did JROTC and sports(specifically football) have way too much attention.

We had not one, not two, but FOUR ENTIRE JROTC CLASSES! Classes training you to be in the military, specifically Air Force. Classes you HAD to take unless you wanted to be in gym(never had the class but from what I’ve heard, there were about 50-70 kids, mostly male, filling up that class and they didn’t do anything but play ball or whatever. All of course, taught by one guy).

Somehow this program had enough support for uniforms, 4 different classrooms, supplies, several teachers(all of whom were in the military at one point[they were chill except for the freshman teacher who called you a whiny baby for being in pain]), and more. 

Not to mention, every so often military people would come by with pretty pamphlets and fun little strength tests and have kids to sign up to newsletters and shit and ask them to join the military when they graduate so they can get free college and happy fun times!! :D

Football was given way too much attention, even over the other sports, and I absolutely hate it. Every month was about  football, football, football. So much money went into football, so much support went into football. Yeah yeah yeah follow your dreams or whatever the fuck they tell you on Disney Channel, but there was too much support on this one sport that involved kids breaking their heads open. 

Please please give me ONE valid reason why this irritating-ass sport had so much attention while art students, craft students, theater students, music students, students who want to work in literally any other field that doesn’t involve science or sports had to fucking scrape every tiny little chance they could from the crumbs that were left behind. PLEASE tell me why I had to join a completely different program that was hella exclusive and restricted to Juniors and Seniors that had a certain skill-level just to have a proper arts class while football players got a cool fancy bus, a shit ton of gear, and praise every single day(seriously their pictures and trophies were everywhere). 

Why is it that they get scholarships and full rides for throwing a ball around and bashing their brains open while I had to fucking destroy my hand and scramble around for some shit like $200 which I wouldn’t even get because I don’t have the skill to paint the mona lisa or whatever. Anywayyyy~

Hey what the fuck was up with the rules? Sorry kids but if you’re reading this, everything they tell you on tv about high school is a lie. Unless you watched the Dora the Explorer movie, then that was actually pretty accurate.

Hey is it weird we had metal detectors and legit police officers(who were armed) in our school? Is it weird that we had to wear plastic, see-through book-bags, that weren’t even given to us for free and were so weak that they had to get rid of that rule because they would break after like 2 months? Is it weird we were all stuffed into a nasty, sticky, pest-ridden, staircase right in front of the main doors in the morning because we weren’t allowed all the way inside for whatever reason unless it was for a club(i.e. sports)? Is it weird that we were all trapped in the lunch room by security guards because they didn’t want kids roaming the halls even though they already did? Is it weird we weren’t allowed to go to the bathroom and were always told “you should’ve went your last class” when your last class didn’t let you? Is it weird we weren’t allowed to use the bathroom and were always told that “you should’ve went during the transition time” even though the transition time was only 4 minutes and the hallways were so crowded that it’d be time for class by the time you’d get there?

Is it weird that when we were allowed to use the bathroom, all of the bathrooms were locked and only one on the other side of the school was open, and the majority of the stalls were broken? And they kept the bathrooms locked, even after school, because they didn’t want kids skipping class even though they still did?

Is it weird that if you didn’t have a belt(if you were male), or a part of your uniform, you would be prevented from going to class if there were no more temporary uniforms?

Is it weird that if one kid did something bad, the entire class would be punished and class time would be wasted and the point of punishment would be lost because the teacher wanted a taste of power or whatever?(hey one time in 8th grade, both classes had to stand in one long ass line for about half an hour because someone was talking and it was treated like it was a joke. this took up our breakfast time too)

Other Shit: One time my HS got like $20,000 and instead of using it to fix at least one thing, they wasted it on useless flatscreen tv’s and SAT “tutors” that taught us 3rd grade english & math, how to annotate(I swear to fucking god one more person try and teach me how to underline a motherfucking sentence---) and did absolutely nothing to help us. Meanwhile the football players were living like kings.

We had a strange assortment of teachers, ya’ll know about my junior and senior english teacher. But did I ever tell you about the freshman JROTC instructor? She was so much fun~ I remember one time!!! ooh this is a good one :DDDD!!!! that I was in so muuuuuch pain that I was crying and couldn’t move! and guess what!!!!???? ooh! ooh! guess! She called me a whiny baby and said I was overreacting!!!! omg? She was so right tho, I was totally overreacting to being in immense, insufferable, pain that no one even attempted to be concerned about~~ 

Oh here’s another good one: I used to cry a lot! It was horribly embarrassing and not fun~ I was either sick, on my period(which according to the multiple doctors I had to be rushed to, was normal and the intense pain was hereditary), or having an emotional breakdown~ This lasted from 5th grade to Senior Year of HS! :D

One time I was in a lot of pain, 7th grade I believe, and cried for a whole hour straight. What did my teacher do? Have me sit in class while everyone went to like social studies or whatever, talked with some teachers, and then complained about how I “cried and cried and cried for an hour straight” with no concern whatsoever. BTW the nurse was never there and even then she was kinda useless.

Don’t even get me started on the several times I was on my period and was actually screaming in pain and was still looked down on because a student screaming and hollering in pain is no cause for concern obviously~ Really surprising how a lot of the male teachers and staff were more concerned then the female ones, especially the science teacher who has a uterus, has multiple daughters, and the audacity to say I’m ~overreacting~. I’m so happy our teachers and schools have our priorities in order.

Note: If you’re horrified by this. Good. You should be.

More misc things: My HS had a shit ton of roaches, water bugs, and whatever those long disgusting things that walk around on the walls and fall off once you see them. Art meant nothing to them. Teacher sanity meant nothing, student sanity meant nothing. The principal was great and I blame whoever’s “funding” schools and working behind the scenes.  I know this was more about personal stuff, but like a lot of things like large classes, lack of supplies, lack of empathy from teachers, constant pests, horrible food, stupid rules that hurt us more than helped, really weird exposure to cops and military, and too much focus on one subject is super common in public schools and I really really want it to stop.

[halictus-writer]

Remus’s Trip to the Grocery Store

notes: 3,582 words. originally posted to ao3 on august 22, 2020. 

non-magical, modern au. first meetings, fluff, humor.

told in 5 parts, the first two happen at the same time but are told from different POVs, same for the next two, then part 5 happens only once.

4:26pm – 4:36pm: Remus

Remus grabbed a red grocery cart and pushed it forwards. He didn’t have a lot of items to buy today, since he was really only stopping for tonight’s dinner and tomorrow morning’s coffee, but the choice between lugging around a basket that increased in weight over time or leaning heavily on a cart that helped maintain a personal space buffer was a no-brainer.

He grabbed his list from his back pocket. Once an envelope containing unsolicited credit card advertisements, it was now a neatly folded rectangle bearing thin but neat cursive lettering, with items such as “bread,” “premade salad,” and “fucking caffeine.” In the middle of deciding which items to grab first, Remus looked up and suddenly locked eyes with a worker at the cash register, immediately forgetting the pros and cons of his most-recently proposed efficient shopping route. The worker was strikingly handsome. Remus took in his medium-length dark hair, blue-gray eyes, and prominent facial structure, before also realizing that he himself was (1) staring, (2) caught in the act of staring, as well as (3) blocking other customers from utilizing the easiest navigational pathway between the frozen foods aisle and the produce section: a triple grocery store sin.

Shaking off his stare-induced stupor, Remus returned to the task at hand: buying groceries and going home before rush hour, eating a moderately-healthy dinner, getting into bed at a reasonable hour, and then reading until 3am. As he compared the price per ounce between two different boxes of granola bars, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander back to the worker. They look to be about the same age, he could also be a student at the local university. Remus wonders what his major might be, and if he prefers to sit in the front or the back of lecture halls, or if he ever skips classes altogether. Before he can decide if grocery-store-cashier-boy is a pen-and-pencil note-taker or a laptop note-typer, a woman’s exasperated “excuse me” comes from his side. Realizing he was blocking the cereal section with his cart, Remus made a hasty apology, before mentally cursing his lack of grocery store etiquette. Normally a champion of the unspoken grocery store rules, Remus determines that it must be the boy’s fault for distracting him. Mentally, he cursed him too.

4:26pm – 4:36pm: Sirius

Sirius flicked the switch under the counter, turning off the light above his cash register. He gave a sorry smile to the woman who had been walking towards his lane, basket in hand, before realizing he was temporarily closing the register. Sirius pointed her to his left where Dorcas was finishing a transaction with a mom and two small children. The smaller of the two kept tugging on the mom’s hand, and asking if he could dye his hair all the colors of the rainbow, like Dorcas’s undercut.

“Sure,” the mom said, laughing, “but only once you’re older.”

“I dyed mine years ago, when I turned sixteen,” Dorcas told the little family. “My parents were furious.” She handed the receipt over to the mom with a dramatic flourish, and offered the kids a conspiratorial wink.

“Hey!” Sirius stage-whispered, “stop corrupting the kids with your lesbianism!”

“It’s not like you’re a saint, with your gay-ass rainbow pin!” Dorcas laughed.

“The day I take off this pin is the day I break Effie Potter’s heart,” Sirius declared. “She was so excited to give it to me the day after Planned Parenthood tabled at her work.” Sirius’s voice trailed off at the end when he heard Dorcas return to her customer service voice, asking her next shopper if she had any trouble finding her groceries today. The rainbow pin actually meant a lot to Sirius, as it represented the acceptance and love shown by his adoptive mother, in sharp contrast to the biological mother who threw him out for his “lifestyle choices.” An additional perk of wearing it at work was that he could scan the groceries of complete strangers and not get flirted with. Except for the occasional man who was encouraged by the pin, but Sirius handled those occurrences on more of a case-by-case basis.

Sirius was clocking out for his break on the computer, when he looked up and saw a customer pushing a cart, wearing the thickest sweater he had seen in use all summer, and carrying a real-life paper shopping list. Sirius couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his face at the sight-- the whole combination was too endearing. His eyebrows shot up when the stranger lifted his head and looked right at him: he was gorgeous. In a very sweater-wearing, paper-grocery-store-list-making, probably-falls-asleep-while-reading kind of way, but still, gorgeous. The shopping boy broke eye contact first.

“Break break break break break!” James’s voice crescendoed as he hopped over towards Sirius’s register, before grabbing Sirius and squeezing just under his ribs, making Sirius jump and swat his hands away. Sirius is not ticklish, except for that one spot, which James annoyingly exploits on a daily basis.

James leaned over Sirius to use the computer to clock out as well, officially making them both free of work duties for the next twenty minutes. There was a break room in the back, but James and Sirius preferred to take their breaks at a closed register line, in the middle of the action, so they could continue to distract all of their coworkers. Sirius silently noted that their oddly-extraverted break-taking location would allow for an excellent vantage point, should the sweater-wearing boy want to make any more eye contact.

“So,” James began, drawing out the word. “Are you going to tell me who it is?”

“What are you talking about, James?”

“Who it is.” He repeated. “You keep craning your neck like a tiny little baby giraffe, looking all around the store. It’s precious. It’s endearing. Who are you looking for?”

“What? No one. Also, I’m not short.”

“Sirius. You are a very abnormally short little giraffe. Who is also looking for someone.”

“Oh my god, you are the most annoying person.”

“But I’m also three inches taller than you.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Dorcas, back me up here.”

Dorcas looked up from weighing a customer’s bag of apples, looked back down to her computer, and said “No.”

James cackled unnecessarily loudly. “It’s one of three options. Number one, you’ve done something wrong and are hiding from the authorities. Number two, there’s a shopper here who you don’t want to see. Number three, there’s a shopper here who you do want to see.”

Sirius tried to keep a sufficient poker face, steeling himself to ride out James’s upcoming monologue.

“Number one is the least possible option. As is common knowledge, Sirius Black is a trouble-maker, which I commend him for. However, he is also an excellent escape-artist. In recent events, Mr. Black has been known to assign the blame to others, even his own brother,” James paused for a dramatic gasp, “in order to avoid the responsibility of his actions. If there were an authoritative body present in this fine establishment, and Mr. Black was on his government-mandated twenty minute break per four hours of hard labor, which he is, then there would be no reason for him to remain in such a visible locale.” James paused theatrically.

Sirius bit his cheek to hold in his laughter; he didn’t want to give James the satisfaction. “Are you done yet?”

“No. Possibility number one has been refuted, but possibility number two is also dethroned by the logic of scenario numero uno. If you were avoiding a customer, you would go to the break room. Therefore, ladies and gentlemen…” James made a sweeping motion with his arms, looking in turn at Sirius, Dorcas, and Dorcas’s current customer, an elderly man who appeared to be either a wizard or quite unaware that Woodstock had ended and his hair had turned gray.

“I’m still not listening,” Dorcas added, although her customer evidently was, having now turned himself fully towards James.

“Possibility number three is the only answer. Mr. Sirius Black has his eyes on a customer!” James gasped and covered his hand with his mouth. The elderly/hippie/wizard customer gasped as well, though not as loud as James.

“James, there is no customer, I was literally just looking because I thought I saw a girl from class. But I don’t think it was her.” Sirius lied. He knew that James wouldn’t mind hearing about the gorgeous sweater-clad boy, and Sirius knew he would probably tell him all about their five seconds of eye contact once they were both at home later. But, Sirius also knew that given the opportunity, James would do his best to embarrass Sirius in front of someone Sirius found attractive. It was best to keep James away during first impressions.

“Liar!” James scrambled onto the table where groceries were bagged, and grabbed the handheld barcode scanner. Now apparently conducting an interview, he spoke into the barcode scanner as if it were a microphone. “Mr. Black, do tell us, who is the unlucky victim?”

Sirius realized that he wouldn’t be able to compete with James’s energy level today, so he decided to join him instead. Speaking into the faux-microphone with a deeper-than-usual voice, Sirius answered. “Well, Mr. Potter, it was a shopper, you see, who is simply adorable, and no further questions will be taken at this time.”

“A-ha!” James announced with glee, and flung the barcode scanner down. “So there is someone!”

Returning to his normal voice, Sirius laughed and offered, “yes, you were right, you are always right, and I saw a boy, but just don’t do anything and maybe I’ll invite you to our wedding eventually.”

“Wow, wedding bells already? Must be a rather dashing young lad.” James could read Sirius like a book, they were practically brothers, and he knew when Sirius was done with a joke. Hoping that he would get to witness an interaction between Sirius and the customer today, James mercifully changed the subject to their weekend movie plans.

4:37pm – 4:42pm: Remus

Ten minutes later finds Remus’s cart holding all of the items on his list-- with the addition of two non-list items: one bar of 80% cacao dark chocolate, and one small pack of green tea mints-- and en route to the cash registers.

Remus noticed that the boy is still at his register, but that he was now joking around with another worker-- a boy with equally dark but messier hair and glasses-- who appeared to be dodging erratic jabs of an uncapped sharpie marker and laughing. Remus momentarily considered avoiding them altogether, but since (1) they are the only register without a line, (2) Remus isn’t buying any weird groceries, and (3) is capable of casual grocery store chatter with someone attractive, Remus steered his cart towards them. Glasses Boy saw him first, and momentarily frowned before his eyebrows shot up into his curls. He poked Attractive Boy, who turned towards Remus and smiled, before turning back towards Glasses Boy to smack his arm. Remus is now close enough to read his name tag, which states Sirius, and is glad to be able to stop referring to him as “Attractive Boy” in his head. He also happily noticed the rainbow pin clipped under his name. The other worker’s name is James, but Remus wasn’t looking away from Sirius for very long.

“Did you find everything you were looking for today?” Sirius asked, as he quickly types something into the computer. His words may come from the same required script he uses for every customer, but Remus noticed that his tone sounded friendly.

“I did, thanks, how about you?” Remus returned, pleased at keeping his voice calm despite talking to the most attractive person he had ever seen. A beat of silence followed before he realized what he said, and immediately blushed. “I mean, wait, sorry–”

Sirius’s laugh is warm, and it feels like he is laughing with Remus instead of at him, somehow, before he leaned in conspiratorially and offered in a slightly lower volume, “You know, I think I did find what I was looking for.” His eyes remained on Remus’s shocked expression for another moment before he returned to scanning the groceries. Meanwhile, the other worker, James, groaned loudly and took a step backwards.

Now speechless, Remus felt his face get even warmer and was certain he was now the same shade of red as the cart. Could Sirius possibly be flirting with him? Remus knew he wasn’t unattractive, but he didn’t think someone like Sirius would show interest in him.

4:37pm – 4:42pm: Sirius

Now with only ten minutes left of their break, Sirius and James have covered all of the conversational topics available to them within the workplace-- they have updated each other on the happenings of their last two hours, exchanged weird customer stories, discussed the pros and cons of “double texting” the red-haired girl James met in his Anthropology class study group-- and have moved on to entertaining themselves by play-fighting. Naturally, it escalated in volume, and as their manager would say if he was actually on the floor, “obnoxiousness.”

James brandished the barcode scanner and waved it over Sirius’s forearm-- sleeve pulled up to display his constellation tattoos-- screeched a remarkably accurate “BEEP,” and proclaimed that Sirius was worth a total of ninety-five cents. In retaliation, Sirius uncapped a black sharpie marker, and began trying to draw on James. James laughed as he dodged the swipes.

Suddenly, James froze, and looked just beyond Sirius’s shoulder with a small frown. Sensing that their mayhem had finally become noticed by a manager or shift lead, Sirius capped the sharpie and began to draft the perfect story that would get himself out of trouble and throw James under the bus. He was pulled out of his lie-crafting when James poked him in the side, now looking mischievously excited.

Sirius turned around to see the cute boy from earlier, and smiled reflexively. The boy was pushing his shopping cart towards Sirius’s register, and Sirius realized that the boy must not know that his lane is currently closed.

“Oh, yes,” James whispered with glee.

Sirius smacked him and issued a simple warning grunt.

Sirius stole another look at the boy. Now that they are closer, he took in the warm hazel eyes and the few faint scars running between his freckles. Already ignoring the anticipated tormenting he will receive from James later, Sirius quickly logs back in to the computer to be able to ring up the boy’s purchases, despite still being on break.

Now that the boy is actually standing in front of him, Sirius is surprised to find that he is a little nervous. He’s always been a successful conversationalist, and a very effortless flirter. James always pointed out that roughly fifty percent of the annual Thanksgiving food bank donations come from Sirius’s customers. Looking for something to say, he blurted out the first thing he could think of.

“Did you find everything you were looking for today?” Sirius quickly cursed himself for sounding so boring.

“I did, thanks, how about you?” The boy answered, and Sirius immediately loved his voice. He had the timbre of an audiobook narrator. “I mean, wait, sorry–”

Sirius’s laughter interrupted him. Deciding to double-down on the flirting to make up for the fact that he opened with a line about groceries, he put the charm back on and leaned forward just a bit. “You know, I think I did find what I was looking for.”

James groaned loudly and took a step backwards from the grocery bags, but Sirius knew he was still listening intently.

4:43pm – 4:50pm: both

“Is your name actually Sirius?” Remus blurted out. Sirius looked surprised, but Remus spoke again before he could respond. “No, it’s a cool name, I really like it actually, but I work in a coffee shop on campus and sometimes I steal someone else’s name tag because my name is Remus which is kind of a weird name but I just realized that I’m rambling so I am now going to stop talking.”

Sirius smiled at him. “Nice to meet you, Remus. I like your name too.” Time paused as their eye contact held, and small smiles began forming. The moment ended when James started making gagging noises, empty grocery bags in hand.

“Bye James! Your grocery bagging skills are no longer required.” Sirius said, shoo-ing him away without looking away from Remus. “Good luck with that girl who won’t text you back!”

James smiled mischievously as he began to make his way towards the previously unused break room. “Good luck with your foot fungus, Sirius! Don’t forget to apply your poultice at the top of every hour!”

Sirius shook his head before returning to Remus’s groceries. “You said you work in a coffee shop on campus? Which one?”

“Oh, it’s the UCenter Caffeine House.” Remus is pleased to have successfully said one sentence to Sirius without butchering any social or conversational norms.

“Are you a student then?”

“Yeah, I’ll be a Junior this fall. Are you also a student there?” Remus hoped his question didn’t sound too excited.

Sirius beamed. “Yeah, I’m going into Junior year as well actually!”

“Oh cool, what are you studying?” Remus asked.

“Philosophy. But I’m thinking about adding an Education minor because I’ve been thinking about becoming a teacher.”

“That’s awesome! I’m studying Psychology, but minoring in Education because I want to work in elementary schools.” Remus thought briefly of his seventh grade guidance counselor, Ms. McGee. “I hope I can help people the way that I was helped.”

Sirius paused his scanning, holding the green tea mints in the air, and looked up at Remus again. “That is really powerful to hear. I owe a lot to the psychologists that worked in my schools while I was growing up.” Remus was pleased to hear that Sirius is appreciative of his path, but also that he seems to actually value therapy and social work. “These mints are so good by the way, I just eat them like candy.”

Remus took advantage of the available lighter conversation topic. “Oh good, they reminded me of one of my favorite drinks at work! It’s a blended matcha mint tea. Although I usually add some chocolate sauce to mine.”

Sirius laughed, now scanning the dark chocolate bar, “Sounds like it matches your shopping cart items. Maybe I’ll have to come try this matcha mint drink, when do you work next?”

Now it is Remus’s turn to smile. “I work a closing shift tomorrow! So I’ll be there starting at 4pm, but the baked goods are half-off after 5.”

“Sounds like I’ll see you at 5 then, Remus. Will you be wearing your own name tag?” Sirius asked innocently.

It took Remus a half second to realize that Sirius was referring to his earlier embarrassing ramblings about his name. Not one to be out-done, even by ridiculously attractive grocery store workers, he replied with his own faux-innocence. “Yep, and if you’re coming right at five o’clock will you need to apply your foot fungus poultice at the shop? We have a bathroom inside.”

They both laugh, and Sirius can’t help but feel warmer, as if somehow this boy walked into the store and ended up talking to Sirius for a reason. They maintain a comfortable eye contact, before Sirius decides he should complete the transaction, having long ago finished ringing up Remus’s groceries.

“Did you want a plastic or a paper bag for these? My bagger seems to have returned to his break.”

Remus pulled out the compact folded reusable bag from his pocket. “Oh, I brought my own actually.”

“Perfect,” Sirius said, and they both began placing Remus’s items inside.

“Wait,” Remus interrupted, “did you say return to his break? Are you on break right now?”

Sirius sheepishly pointed up to the box above his register. Compared to the other lanes with workers, it is not illuminated. “James and I usually take our breaks out here, um, because we like being, uh, a part of the action?”

Remus’s face fell. “I feel so bad for making you work during your break; I didn’t realize your lane was closed, but, you were too nice to say anything. Although the thought of you wanting to stay on the floor during your break makes my introverted soul shudder.”  

Sirius laughed, “No, don’t worry, I would have told you I was closed if I didn’t want you here.” Remus smiles in response. “But,” Sirius said, drawing out the vowel, “my break did end while we were talking and I should probably start ringing other customers up.”

“Oh, yes, of course, let me stop distracting you.” Remus picked up his bag of groceries, and took a step towards the exit. “It was nice to meet you, Sirius, and sorry again about interrupting your break.”

Sirius looked up from his station, and despite having already turned on the “Lane Open” sign, called out again. “Wait, Remus, um, your receipt!”

“Oh, I don’t need it, but thank you–” Remus was cut off by Sirius handing it to him, their fingers brushing for just a second.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at 5!”

“Yeah, see you!” Remus smiled as he walked out of the store. His smile grew even wider when he unfolded the receipt to see a phone number scribbled in black sharpie.

[manggojooz]

Pick A Side (Part 10)

pairing: Taehyung x reader

word count: 2,040

genre: university!au; angst; romance; a bit a bit of thriller

warnings: slight references to voyeuristic behaviour

previous part: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

taglist: @destiel1597 @mila271 @hopetookmysoul @ximaginx @honeyursosweet @coffeecupyoongs@bangtanbaesstuff @annoyingpessimist @betysotelo18 @okaysoplshelpme @igot7bangs @tahaing @mochi-and-co

comment: sooooo i wanted this series to be like max 10 parts... guess it’s not really gonna be that way xD and this is a really dialogue-heavy chapter, hope y’all don’t mind it! as always, if you like it please leave a comment or help me reblog it <3 

Instincts. Gut feeling. Sixth sense. People use these terms to describe the baseless sometimes inexplicable notions that humans are capable of perceiving. 

You once learnt during a photography workshop that some of the best pictures are not the ones which were taken after spending hours framing it, but are products of spontaneity. A good photographer is therefore not the one that can design his shots well, but one who has that baseless inexplicable tingly senses that can anticipate the iconic moment before it arises.  

---

“Finally found the both of you”, his tonality seems to never change but they sent tingles down your sides.  

“Hey Haejoong, I was just explaining to Y/N the situation...”, Jihyun perks up when she sees him in the room.  

Sudden echoes of the vibration from your handphone resting on a chair next to you startles you. You pick it up to see that Taehyung was calling.  

“Hey”, you answered the call.  

“Where are you?”, he anxiously asked without even a ‘hello’.  

“In the painting room. I'm here with Jihyun and Haejoong”, you see Jihyun’s eye flicker a little as she starts to have a hunch about who you were talking to on the phone. Haejoong on the other hand, continued to look at you with his usual gentle demeanour.  

You heard some mumbling from Taehyung on the other end, it sounded like he was swearing but you couldn’t hear him clearly at all.  

“What are you saying? I can’t hear you”, you quipped.  

“Wait there, I’m coming over”, he commanded.

Before you could object he had already hung up.  

You stammered awkwardly and looked at the two puzzled humans standing before you, “Umm Taehyung said he’s coming over... not sure why or what for but err...”

“Probably to pick you up”, Haejoong replied almost too nonchalantly before facing Jihyun and asking her, “would you rather leave or wait?” You wondered whether this was the same person you knew from a week ago.  

“Let’s go”, Jihyun answered exhaustedly.  

“Oh right Y/N, Hyesoo has been asking me whether we need to change our assignment group, given all that is going on right now. She said to let her know by this week. Maybe you could discuss with Taehyung and let’s come to a decision soon?”, Haejoong was suddenly reminded to ask you as he trailed behind Jihyun who wanted to leave before Taehyung reached.  

“Yeah, okay”, you barely managed to squeak out a response as the nagging tingly feeling keeps growing.   

---

You fiddled around with your phone until you heard footsteps stomping up to the door.  

“Hey”, he panted.  

“You ran here?”, you questioned.  

“Yeah, evidently”, he answered.  

“Why...”, you wondered, but suddenly you were reminded that perhaps you wouldn’t like the answer, “... no, don’t answer that.”

Taehyung tilts his head and his forehead lightly frowns in confusion, “Anyway, where’s Jihyun and Haejoong?”, his breath was still shallow.  

Did he run here to see Jihyun?  

“Jihyun left with Haejoong, I didn’t know if I should ask them to wait or...”, your words were just stumbling out of your mouth, “... I’m sorry, if I knew you wanted to catch her I would have-”  

“Hey hey, I'm not here to catch her”, Taehyung’s eyes were intensely observing you now.  

“Then why did you run all the way here? I thought it was because I mentioned she was with me”, your fingers pinched each other in this tiny moment of embarrassment and uncertainty. Embarrassed because you felt like you were phishing for an answer you wanted, uncertain because you still didn’t know if it would be the answer you wanted.  

“No...”, Taehyung hesitated, “... it’s because you mentioned Haejoong was with you.”  

Is this the answer you wanted?  

“Taehyung, Haejoong and I...”, you wanted to clarify that nothing is going on, at least not anymore.  

“Stay away from him”, Taehyung huffs.

“What?”, you were taken aback by his assertiveness all of a sudden.  

“Im Haejoong. Something’s up with him, I don’t know what... but Yoongi hyung just told me that he has always had a crush on Jihyun and even chose to take our pure arts class just to be in the same class as her... but he never acted that way... instead it felt like...”, his eyes quivered as he looked at you.  

“It felt like he liked me...”, you were shaking now. There were absolutely no signs that he liked Jihyun before.  

“Y/N are you ok? You look-”, Taehyung grew concerned.  

“He misled me to think that he wrote the post-its on my photos too...”, you mumbled.  

Taehyung’s eyes grew wider. Things are increasingly not adding up for this guy.  

“Just stay awa-”, Taehyung began.  

“I’m tired Taehyung, walk with me back to the hostel?”, you truly were drained by now.  

---

The journey was mostly undisturbed silence. There is a kind of connection in this world that need not be seen or heard.  

As the both of you strolled up to the hostel, a female voice calls out your name, drawing both of your attention.  

Turns out Helen from the student office had also just came around to look for you with a police officer in tow.

“Don’t worry, I’m just investigating into the matter. It's really cold out here at night, is it alright if we head up to your room to have a chat?”, the investigation officer requested. You agreed and as the group of you were heading up, Taehyung almost too naturally follows behind you.  

“Mr. Kim, I think we are good here. Maybe you should consider heading back?”, there was a slant of insistence in her question.  

Taehyung eyes you worriedly and you gave him a smile, “It’s ok, I can handle this. See you tomorrow?”  

He sighed reluctantly but gives you a brief nod, “Call me if anything happens”, he nagged before turning to head off.  

This was still the same caring man that you knew since day one.

---

After a round of questioning in your room, the officer was mostly satisfied. However, he stood up and headed to your window, parting the blinds to peep out into the opposite building, where Jihyun’s room was.  

“Is everything alright?”, Helen asked.  

“It’s just that, no matter how I look at it, it will take a really powerful camera zoom to get the kind of image in the videos. Ms. Helen, you too know that we have been to each room in this building, no matter how I see it, the angle just doesn’t seem right from any of the rooms either”, he muttered thoughtfully.  

“Well, how else can someone get a photo or video from this high a height? We are eight floors above ground, officer”, Helen was seemingly annoyed that she was still stuck here at such an hour.  

“What if it wasn’t taken from a building...”, the officer mumbles.  

Helen was right about to scoff when you suddenly bolt up from your bed, where you had been sitting during the questioning.  

“Maybe... a drone?”, you implored.  

It need not be seen or heard, but the connection had been drawn. The officer’s face hardens as he demands Helen bring him all the CCTV footages surrounding the hostel area, this time not just for the entrances of the hostels.  

---

“We need to talk”, you messaged Haejoong the next day after classes were done and you ended up meeting him at the rooftop where he was trying out his new Holga. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?”, you sputtered, feeling rather apprehensive.  

He turns around to face you while packing up his things. “What do you mean?”

“You took the photos of Jihyun and posted them online... right?”, you fought on.  

“Why would I do that?”, it sounded as though he was refuting your allegation but at the same time it also sounded as though he was challenging you to find out the answer yourself.  

“Exactly, why? My gut feeling says it’s you, but I just cannot logically figure out why you would do it. Especially, now that I know you actually like Jihyun, I just can’t understand what you are trying to do. Why did you get close to me, when you like her? Why-”, you ranted.

“How did you find out that I like her?”, he was momentarily stunned but quickly recovered, “Regardless... tell me honestly, did you at any point think that I liked you?”

It hurts your pride to admit it, but with the way he acted, how could you not have thought that way?  

Your silence though, was enough of an answer to the mild-mannered man.  

“I honestly didn’t mean to hurt you, but you had to be Taehyung’s ex-girlfriend, I had no choice”, for once there was a desperation starting to bloom in his voice.  

“You had no choice but to use me?”, your words were filled with exasperation.  

“I needed to show Jihyun that he doesn’t like her, that when he is forced to make a choice between you or her”, his eyes hardens and he does not complete that previous sentence, “It is obvious that his heart is still with you.”  

“That is not true, you just haven’t seen the number of times Taehyung-”, you argued back.  

“He doesn’t love her. If anyone’s using anyone, it’s not me, it’s him. He's using her to get over you and I cannot watch that happen to her”, he raised his voice at you just enough to show his disapproval.  

Your head was quivering in disbelief, “You couldn’t watch that happen to her but you went and posted those photos and videos of her?! I just don’t get it...”

“That is not me”, he replied coldly.  

“You are lying”, you insisted.  

“It’s not me”, he takes another step closer to you and puts his hands into the huge side pocket of your winter coat. He pulls out your handphone revealing that it was recording your conversation this whole time.  

“It’s not me”, he repeats for the third time, slowly, enunciating each word, as if making sure that the recording will pick up his words loud and clear.  

He stops the recording and you demand for your phone back as sternly as you could.  

“I thought we were at least friends, this is disappointing”, he blinks at you.  

He unexpectedly turns his back and starts to leave. You lunge at him to grab at your phone which he was now shoving into his own pocket. The moment you grabbed his arms he hurls you backward and you stumble back onto the concrete floor.  

“Like you said, if you can’t figure out the logical reason why I would do it then do you think anyone else would be able to come up with one? There is no use in just insisting that I did it, Y/N. In the end no one will believe you”, he surmised almost emotionlessly.  

You collected yourself and scrambled up but Haejoong casually walks through the doorway leading to the rooftop. He spins to see you dashing towards him again and promptly shuts and locks the door from the other side, leaving you in the freezing exterior.  

“IM HAEJOONG!”, you screamed. “Open the door now!”

“This is your time to make a choice Y/N. Will you take my side?”, Haejoong asks cryptically.  

“Are you freaking crazy?! Let me out now!”, you whimpered as you banged against the cold hard door.  

“I’m asking you one last time, will you take my side?”, there was even a coldness to his words now even though you could barely hear him through the thick barricade.  

“Haejoong-ah, stop it now please. You are going down the wrong side, you still have a chance to turn around now”, you tried a different tactic, pleading to him now.  

“You are wrong. If you are not on my side, all of you are wrong”, he bellows suddenly and crashes one of his fists into the door, shaking it so hard causing you to jump back. Immediately after was an eerie silence, with lingering echoes of the door being rattled.  

Some people are like photographs, they exhibit an image, which they spend time developing, but their true self is captured on film as negatives, which is the exact opposite of what they portray.  

[radiumiven]

Where Have I been these 4 weeks?

Hey all, sorry for been gone soo long and I’ll explain why.

The reason why I was gone for almost a month is because I was working on my college assignment due to the deadline approaching. But, there was 2 classes I’ve been having a hard time with. Those were Animation Basic class and Basic Lettering class.

Basic Lettering is a subject that teaches you the basic of using calligraphy design on your product. (Basically, design your font to advertise on your stuff like you mostly see on business cards, products sold from store, posters, etc.) The problem I have with this subject was to went to take photos of reference for you  calligraphy. I was struggling to find references because I couldn’t find the one I needed nor I’m familiar with the places where I should find it. I’ll admit, I’m not a person who like to explore outside, so I hesitated to go to places I’ve never been to before. There were times where I was having trouble working on the assignment because I was not having any enjoyment with the topic my college get us to work on. But, I managed to work my ass off finishing it and submitted.

The second class is Basic Animation, which is obviously, learning the basics of animation. At first, I was excited with this class because my dream is to because a game developer or an animator. But after I finish the class...BOI, was it pain in the ass! Our were final project was to make an animation in a group in 4. So I was grouped with my best friend (BF) and 2 of my classmates I’ve known for 2 years. 

We were discussing on what kind of animation we were going to work on, 2 of my group members recommended some anime characters clashing together with each of the characters design by each of us. I denied it because the four of us having different style of drawing, it would look weird if four different art style characters co-exist in the same world would look out of place. Especially the 2 group members have “unique” art style (not to be rude to them). I suggested making a cartoon instead and they all agree. However, this is where everything started to go down hill.

I’ve show them the character designs I’ve made for our project. They didn’t complain since they know I do these kind of stuff. Since I came up with the idea and story, we started to make a sketch. Unfortunately, the 2 guys didn’t know how to draw my characters, so I let them handle with props and background design while me and BF working on the sketch. Since it was my first time making animation, all I have to say MAN it was very tiresome to make since you have to make all key frames and colour them all. It took all my relax time away and I didn’t get much rest working on because I worked on the whole animation with my BF. 

My 2 members doesn’t help much either with the progress. Whenever I asked for the background, they took very long to reply our message or design the stuff incorrectly, lead to me and my BF arguing with them. I worked on it for about 2 months without noticing how much have been pasted without any rest. It was very frustrating. Now, I blame myself for working on the animation all by myself but the 2 guys were unreliable with the project because they kept delaying the work and they have they part-time job to do.

So, I’ve tortured myself working on it along with other class project, I’ve finally finish it. It was not a great animation, but at least it was a finish product before the deadline.

VVLink to the animation projectVV

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1zE3r6mTp1Z5tiNoZ3RgnCpzWfXK3QOI4/view?usp=sharing

After all was done, it was finally over. I was going to do my usually stuff after those three weeks rush hour. But I was worn out from my project so I have no mood to draw. 

So that’s the entire story of my absent. I hope you all understand and sorry of  inconveniences. 

[dnp-and-blankets]

Love Lessons

TW: Abuse mention, Suicide mention, Abandoned, if theres any more pls let me know

3,441 words

Soulmate AU where you don’t realise who your soulmate is until they leave, and then you cry whenever they cry OR Phil is a sunflower happy new kid with a fascination for soulmates, Dan is an angsty, angry, artist who hate soulmates with a passion, ft Patrick Stump 

 "We can't take him" "Why not" "You can barely look after yourself, and are you forgetting we already have a child?" "He has no one!" "Chloe I swear to fuck" "You'd want Daniel to have somewhere to stay wouldn't you?" "It's not my fault the boy wasn't wanted!" "Would you want Daniel to be treated like this?" "He never will be in foster care" "What if something happens to us?" "My sister's ex bought us that house remember? Already furnished, for when Daniel wants to live on his own." "Philip never had that" I don't know what's going on. All I know is that Chloe equals food. And I really wants food. "He's only 4 years old!" "Pwease can I has some toast?" "Philip go to your room." "Chloe, you're not fit enough for this" "Miss Chloe, I'm really hungry" "Philip!" I go upstairs sniffling, and catch a glimpse of a little boy my age. He growls at me and throws a fox teddy. I pick the teddy up and name him Thomas.

                                                          ~*~

                  I'm very excited today. Today I start at a college that teaches soulmate lessons weekly. Today I start at a college in the town I'll hopefully spend more than a few weeks in. Today, I can finally start figuring out who my soulmate is.  I take a deep breath and look in the mirror. My quiff is being pressed down ever so slightly by a sunflower flower crown. My glasses hang lazily off my nose. I smile brightly at myself and glance at my outfit one more time- a yellow shirt, with the sleeves rolled up halfway up my arms, black jeans, odd socks, white trainers, and a light blue denim jacket- and went through my bedroom door. "Good luck at school Philip!" Stephanie's chirpy voice sang as I walked passed the kitchen. Me and Stephanie moved here to celebrate her second year of adopting me, and we decided homeschool just wasn't going to cut it anymore. I thanked her, grabbed my lunch money, college I.D, shoved Thomas into my pocket, and begun the walk to school. I kick leaves as I walk, and talk to birds that fly passed me. "Bords," I mutter under my breath as a flock flies over my head. I hear a snort behind me and turn to see someone with glasses similar to mine, and strawberry blonde hair. "Not typical behaviour for 17 year olds but carry on." He had an american accent. I was mesmerised, and he seemed to notice this, "I'm a transfer from Chicago, my 'rents moved here a couple months ago, but I'm just starting college now."

"I moved here last week." He smiled at this and hurried to walk the same pace as me. He was much shorter than me. "I'm Phil!"

"Patrick!" another voice yelled. It was an ever so slightly tanned boy, with brown hair that curls, and deep brown eyes surrounded in quite a bit of smudged eyeliner. He definitely slept in his makeup last night, and just reapplied this morning. "Big mood." He twirls to face me and sneers, "What?"

"Sorry, I was just-"

"This is Dan. He's angry. At everything, always. Don't take it personally," Patrick laughs, "want to walk with us?"

            We step into college laughing and wheezing, Dan had been talking about how useless giraffes were, and it was so surreal to see someone harbour so much rage for an animal they've never even seen. "I have English resit lessons first, what about you guys?" Patrick asks. "Love lessons," Dan rolls his eyes, the words laced with hatred, "yay." "Same!" I smile and follow him to the classroom. We stand outside the classroom door and he looks me up and down. I blush ever so slightly, feeling a bit too exposed for some reason. He nods to himself gently and then makes eye contact. "What are you taking?" "Soulmate Theory and Art," I declare, happy that I have a chance to show my enthusiasm, "what about yourself?" "Acting, and Art," he forces the words, seemingly biting his tongue, "why on Earth would you take Soulmate Theory? We're all literally forced to learn the basics once a week, why would you want to dedicate a years worth of college just to get a level 2 BTEC in something fake?" I ignore the fact that he just said soulmates were fake, and decide instead to question him on his logic, "You literally take acting," he smiles at this and we enter the classroom as the tutor greets us.

        "Good Morning everyone! We have a new student joining us today, would you like to like to introduce yourself?" The tutor had wavy blonde hair, and looking at her I.D, her name was Sharon. She seems very perky. "I'm Phil." Is all I manage to say before I notice Dan pulling stupid faces at me and I snort, breaking into laughter. Sharon looks at me in confusion and just lets me sit down. "Today we'll be touching on how much you need to know your soulmate before it counts when they leave," She says, writing a big question mark on the whiteboard, "and the answer is, to put it simply, not at all! They just need to enter your life, be it an accidental brush of the foot, they cough and it catches your attention, or even someone yells their name and you notice." "Sounds like this bullshit theory is grasping for straws. How many people actually find their soulmates after they've suposedly been crying for years?" I look up in shock at Dan's language towards a tutor. Sharon glares at him before answering, "It's not a large statistic, but sometimes people get lucky, and they witness someone crying at the same time as them multiple times, and then-" "Is there actual proof for this?" "Well, of course there's not lots, but we do know that people who never cry have reported crying just as their wife starts crying, and-" "This is such bullshit!" He yells, standing up and kicking his chair for dramatic effect. "As if you idiots teach a mandatory class on something you can't actually prove," the boy mutters before storming out.

       I sit down in my art class, still not fully over Dan's outburst from over an hour ago. He never returned to the classroom, and I didn't have much hope of seeing him in my art class either. "Phil?" The art tutor had sat himself next to me for some reason. My eyes flickered to his I.D, which said, "Mx Quinn" which confused me to an unknown extent. "I'm non-binary," they explained without missing a beat. They hand me a tissue and I take it slowly. I aimed to say, "What's this for?" but it came out in a sorrowful sob, and I realise with a shock that my soulmate must be crying somewhere. "I don't even know his name" I say sadly. Quinn's eyebrow raises but they seem to accept my queerness pretty quickly, not even questioning it. "When did you meet him?" "Steph says my social worker told her that I've been crying randomly since I was put into foster care, so it must have been pretty early on. And trust me when I say I've been in a lot of different foster homes, so I have no idea how to even begin tracking him down." "My soulmate is my wife, but she wasn't my wife until last year, so I wouldn't give up hope just yet" They pat my shoulder before turning and walking to their whiteboard. "Students!" They say with a clap. "Quinn!" A chorus of students clap in response.

     "Now that first term is over, and we've finished our Christmas break, I've decided to actually assign you work, instead of letting your imaginations run free. But don't worry, I won't be telling you what to draw, just hopefully giving you some inspiring prompts." The door swings open and Dan walks in, looking angry as per usual. He sits down next to me. "Today’s prompt, is Beauty, take it as you wish." Quinn claps once more and everyone begins moving. I take out my sketch book and my pencil, and start drawing a circle. I cover the remainder of the page in easy-to-remove sellotape, and then get my water paints out. Dark navys mix with  deep purples, and they both mix with magentas, and then are left to dry. Whilst waiting for it to dry, I remove the tape, and then look over at Dan's page. He's using white chalk on black paper. He's drawn the lines of multiple people, with one person in particular being coloured in white, whilst the rest are left uncoloured. This person is now being shaded around, to give them the appearance of glowing. "Is that your soulmate?" "No, they're even better" "Why?" "Because they exist" I raise my eyebrows at him, but don't question it. "Who is it?" "Does it matter?" "No, but-" "Then drop it."

         At the end of the class I have fully painted a little circle of galaxy, that's surrounded by vines and flowers and various other plants. "Plants killing the universe? Irony is beauty to you?" Quinn was stood over my desk "Nope," I smile, "I just really like plants and space!" "Stop," Dan chimes in, "we get it, you're a soft person." He sounds angry but he's smiling as he says it. I pack up my bags and leave the classroom. Why is he so angry all the time? I think about what could be upsetting him when Patrick grabs my arm. "Soulmate Thoery right?" I nod and we begin walking to class together.

                                                          ~*~

"Phil, stop crying, please" Kat begs, "David will be home soon. You mustn't be crying so much on your first day here." I sob in response. I'm not even sad. I don't know why I'm crying so much. "You don't want to end up back in the orphanage do you?" "I'm not sad," I plead, tears still streaming down my face, "I'm very happy I'm here!" "Then stop crying before David arrives." The front door swings open just as she says this, and a tall, dark eyed man enters the room. "Why does he cry?" He has a Russian accent. "Why does the small one cry? What happens to 9 year old that make them cry so much?" He seems to be getting angrier and angrier. "Phil please stop" Kat begs me. David raises his hand and yells, "Why do you cry?" "I don't know sir" "Bullshit!" He bellows, his hand coming down rapidly. I don't stop crying for a week. They send me back to the orphanage after two days. The crying doesn't stop. I go about my life, eating, playing games, reading, but for a week straight, my body is wracked with sobs.                                                               

                                                          ~*~

             I was 4 years old when I found myself in my first foster home. They kept me for two weeks, and then I was moved to a different home, because the mum was getting sad, or somet, and she could only handle one child, so naturally she kept her own, and not the foster kid. According to my social worker, I've been crying randomly ever since leaving the orphanage in that town. So that's the first place I decide to check. Soulmate Theory is a class dedicated to finding logic in soulmates, and the only reason I decided to take it is because it will provide resources for me to locate my own soulmate. "So, what do you think she will look like?" Patrick asks, hyped for me, as he already found his soulmate, sadly it was after he had moved to the UK, and Pete was still in Chicago. "Well, I hope he has curly hair, because curls are the cutest, and maybe he'll have glasses like me? I want him to have darker eyes than me, so maybe green," I pause for a second in thought, "Brown would be nice too" "tanned?" "kind of? I don't expect them to always be tanned but it'll be nice to have someone who can tan, unlike me." "what colour hair" "I'm naturally ginger, so not ginger or black, maybe blonde, or brown" "brown eyes, brown curly hair, can tan?" "Yeh?" "You mean, Dan Howell?" I choke and look away from my computer screen, eyes wide and aimed directly at Patrick. "No"

         I open a new tab and search for the orphanage I was sent to after my first foster home. I type in the year I was sent there. Patrick notices the town's name and asks if I'm for real. "Yes, why?" "That's Dan's home town," He winks, "Maybe he is your soulmate" "Dan could be my soulmate? Should I tell him?" "No, he doesn't believe in soulmates." "That's good, because I don't think I could spend the rest of my life with someone so negative." Patrick snorts and continues tapping away on his phone. I write down a list of people that were in the orphanage at the same time as me, and make a checklist. I'll message a different one every time I cry. I start stalking each of them online. Stephen, Karla, Bridge, Lucy- Bridge? "Trick, is Bridge a boy or a girl name?" "It's architecture" "It's someone on the list" "Just message them and see." Tears begin falling down my face. "Hey I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry-" "This isn't me!" I smile widely and message someone called Chris, I read the message out loud as I type it, "Hey, I have reason to believe that you're my soulmate, are you crying right now?" They mustn't have any privacy settings on, because the response I receive is immediate, "nope, I'm not crying, and I got my soulmate pregnant last month, so unless this is Keighleigh messing with me, you're not my soulmate," I read it out to Patrick. "Who spells Kaylee like that?" "I know, it's supposed to be K a y l e i g h" "Incorrect" "We'll ask Dan on the walk home?" "Absolutely."

          I message four other people, but none of them are my soulmate. I finally stop crying around ten minutes before the tutor dismisses us, and I feel strange. This time it didn't feel full of emotion. It felt empty. "Hi nerds" "You look like a mess," Patrick chirps. And he's right. Dan's face is paler than usual, and his hair is messy. "No duh, I just did the final scene of the drama I've been writing, the scene where my dog dies and I scream and cry in the rain. Someone's been dumping water on me as I've forced tears, I'm obviously not gonna be looking glamorous." "You've been crying? That's so weird, because-" I glare at Patrick and he stops talking. "Phil's soulmate search hasn't been going too well" "That's cause she doesn't exist." "He," Patrick corrects him, and Dan's eyes widen a little bit. We start walking home and me and Patrick exchange worried glances at each other. "Dan, you never talk about your childhood" "What's there to talk about? My mum's gone, as is my dad, and I've been living on my own since I was 15" "What happened to your parents?" "Phil," Patrick warned me, clearly Dan doesn't talk about this very often. I apologise and we carry on walking. Patrick turns a corner and waves goodbye. Steph apparently lives pretty close to Dan. "Come over?" Dan asks. I smile and nod, maybe a little too eagerly.

                                                               ~*~

         "He's been crying since he was 4 years old, are you prepared to take on this child who has in fact lost contact with their, seemingly very emotional, soulmate?" "Of course. He needs stability. I've always been a fan of stability." I start crying. "Sweetie, I know you don't believe me, but-" "It's not me," I sniffle. She wraps her arms around me in a hug. "He needs someone who has dealt with soulmates." "As you wish. Although, He's 15, and met his soulmate over 10 years ago, so instead of helping him find her, I suggest you book him into a support group for lost soulmates" "I'll do as I please with my child." "Foster child" "Only for a few months. And then he's my child" "Whatever. Sign here." "Go and adventure, Philip, your room is top left." I hear muffled conversation as I close the front door. I finally have a forever home. Someone finally wants me. I could cry, but as per usual, I don't. I never cry. My soulmate cries enough without my tears adding to it. I've been bottling it up for years now. Instead, I smile. I wipe my mirroring tears and try desperately to let him know I care about him. But soulmates don't work like that.

                                                             ~*~

        "You live here?" My jaw drops, "It's awesome!" "My aunt's gave it to me when I was little. I didn't need to use it until a couple of years ago though." "why not?" "Because soulmates aren't real" He says with a shrug. "Who did you draw today?" "You" I splutter, "Me? Why?" "Isn't it obvious? You're beautiful Phil" "But- I mean, thank you- but you don't- soulmates- and-" "Just because love isn't real doesn't mean beauty isn't" My mouth forms an 'O' and that's all I manage to respond. "Why don't you like soulmates?" "Because they ruin people's lives" "Elaborate?" "When I was little, my mum would never shut up about soulmates, she would even tell the little kids we'd foster occasionally" I shot him a quizzical look,  "My mum was bipolar, so she'd foster whilst my dad was at work, and they'd get sent back as soon as my dad would come home. She obsessed over it ever since we tried to foster someone when I was little and my dad had decided it wasn't best for mum's health. Anyways, my mum was obsessed with soulmates. It's all she'd ever talk about, it's all she'd ever research, for days on end. But she killed herself when I was nine. And dad didn't get that warm feeling my mum always spoke about when you lost your soulmate. He didn't love her once he found out that they weren't soulmates. He didn't love me once he realised I was a mistake "He started hitting me, ranting about how he wasted his life with the wrong person. But he had loved her when she was alive, so clearly his love was false, because of the bullshit soulmate theory. My dad killed himself when I was 14, and I spent around 6 months in foster care before my Aunt Stephy contacted me and reminded me of the house she bought me when I was 4. So many people waste their lives looking for soulmates and 'true love' that they don't even look twice at anyone until they're crying. It's fucked up. And plus, I've never cried without meaning it. Ever. Everyone my age has met their soulmate by now. So what? Mine just doesn't exist? Mine doesn't have emotions?" He laughs pitifully.

            "Or maybe they just love you enough to hold back their tears." "What kind of bullshit excuse is that?" "Love isn't just somet you see on TV, Dan" "Yes it is," He yells, suddenly stood up and bearing his teeth, "Soulmates aren't real, relationships aren't real, none of it is fucking real!" "Dan-" "Get out of my house" "Dan, no, please just-" "I said get the fuck out!" "But," I whisper softly. "But what?" "I think you're my soulmate" And for the first time in over 13 years, I start crying, because of my emotions. As I look up, so is Dan. His face is of pure shock, and he doesn't seem to be properly crying, his tears are instead mirroring mine. My hand in my pocket squeezes Thomas ever so slightly. "What's in your pocket?" He tries to say, choking on my sobs, wiping his eyes furiously. I pull the stuffed fox out of my pocket and this time it's Dan's jaw that Drops. "It was you?" "Wait- you were-" "I knew I remembered those eyes" "Wait" "Philip!" "Daniel?" He launches himself at me and captures my lips in a kiss.

        Dan doesn't get over his fears of soulmates immediately. But he starts paying attention in Love Lessons, he starts asking more serious questions, he runs to me whenever he starts second guessing himself, he paints me in art, and most importantly, he doesn't cry as much anymore. I love Dan, I always have, and although he may not ever love me 100%, I know he'll always be with me.

[infires-fanfic-blog]

Witness Protection - Namjoon x Reader (18+)(3)

CHAPTER 3 - THE MISSED COMMUNICATION

(Word count: 1,467)

       I opened my eyes to the eggshell-white ceiling of the Nurse's office. I slowly tried to sit up, but found that my ears were still ringing an annoying amount. Thankfully they were not quite as static-y as before. A cold-sweat was misted across my whole body and I was still a bit dizzy, but I attempted to sit up nonetheless.

"Whoa, are you sure you are good to sit up yet? You are sweating and white as a ghost.." I heard slightly familiar deep voice say.

I immediately looked to my left from where the voice originated and saw the class president, Namjoon, sitting in the chair next to my bed with a book in his hand. Just WHY exactly was he of all people sitting here watching over me this whole time? Probably some class presidential duty or something, honestly.

I immediately diverted my eyes from him. He was too beautiful for me to look at for any period of time as far as I was concerned, and my anxiety was starting to bubble back to the surface knowing that he was right next to the bed while possibly looking at me.

I scooted further towards the other side of the bed and my face went very red. I could tell, since I felt the familiar burning heat of embarrassment build up in my face as it always does in situations that are a bit too overwhealming for me to handle.

"Hello? Are you alright? After you bumped into me earlier you collapsed." Namjoon said with the slightest bit of worry in his voice.

I could not bring my brain to form words to speak, so I simply stared down at my lap and nodded my head like an idiot.

Wait just one gosh-darn moment... What did he say? HE was the one I bumped into? My life just keeps getting worse and worse. By this point, I swear that the universe just has some sick twisted grudge against me. I must have done some horrible shit in my past life to deserve all of this.

My mind was going a million miles a minute, but it screeched to a halt as I felt a large warm hand cover my forehead. I sat still, frozen in terror as Namjoon felt my forehead and attempted to determine if my temperature was normal or not. I didn't even dare to breathe as my whole body locked up from the shock of such a dangerously good looking person touching me. By CHOICE at that.

At my last school people stayed as far away from me as humanly possible. I kind of preferred it that way, actually. I have always been a bit of an oddball, but I never bothered anyone. I suppose that people took my appreciation for the beauty of the darker things in life as creepy. That and the light above every desk I sat under started to flicker not long after my arrival there. Strangely, the same thing happened with the light above my locker as well... but hey, whatever kept away the annoyance of social interaction.

After a moment of his hand being on my forehead, I felt a strange calmness. This is the first time I have felt so peaceful since... well, since before the night my parents were murdered. As he began to slowly draw his hand away from me finally, I found myself grabbing a hold of his wrist and looking straight at him.

He returned a look of pure confusion before I realized what I was doing, and upon my realization I immediately got out of bed and booked it the fuck out of there as fast as I could. I even left my shoes behind in my haste, but I had more important things to worry about than a pair of old shoes.

For instance, how am I ever going to show my face around this school again after my embarrassing spectacle I put on today? I might as well just ask the caseworker assigned to me to transfer me to another school. How else could I live through this? I sit right next to Namjoon... that alone is enough to make me want to jump out a window in embarrassment after everything he has seen from me today.

I ran out of the school building panting yet thankful that the cool breeze of Autumn greeted me to help calm my mind slightly. The chilly air in my lungs has always made me feel strangely cozy ever since I was a little girl, and nothing has changed that now that I have gotten older.

I pulled out my cellphone and texted the one person who I knew could help me in my crisis situations. My caseworker. She was assigned to me by the government to help me re-establish my new life after I was relocated so that I could effectively hide from the murderers that were no doubt looking for me, hoping for a slip up so that they could reunite me with my parents in death.

"Mrs. Kim, I am sorry. I am going home for now. I will tell you about it later."

That is the message I sent before turning my phone on silent, slipping it into my bag and walking home. On the walk home, I tried not to think about my earlier embarrassment in school and instead ended up simply staring at the colors of the trees as I walked.

I was slightly calmed by the familiar crunch of the fall leaves beneath my feet as I regaled in my head of how my mom used to walk with me on leaf-littered sidewalks. We didn't even talk, we just walked peacefully hand in hand and listened to the crunchy sounds and smiled at each other. Although I had shoes then, and now I just had socks which meant that my feet were pretty cold and pieces of crunched leaves began to stick to them all over.

After walking and thinking for a bit, I finally arrived at home. It was still very new to me, so it was a little odd to be calling it home. In fact, it was technically a safe house; a place where I was assigned to live while being under witness protection. A secure place that they would never find me. It was a tad small with only one bedroom, one bathroom, a living room and a small kitchen. In reality, I didn't really need anything bigger than this.

I liked small places better anyways. Bigger places meant there were more places for an intruder to hide. Also, big places made me feel really small and I have suffered some pretty bad anxiety attacks before from places like those. I would always hide myself in a small nook or cranny until I calmed down, and sometimes my mom would join me in my hiding spot and paint my toes to help me get over it faster. Ever since, she had habitually carried nail-polish in her bag just in case. Now I have no one to care for me like that anymore.

I sighed as I opened the door and allowed myself inside, locking the door behind me with the three different kinds of locks that kept the door secure. The walls were all bare and white, and I didn't have much property to my name since I had just moved in not too long ago. I would take care of it eventually.

I decided to take a good long nap to help re-energize my now stressed and fatigued body. I layed down on my bed and covered myself with the three heavy comforters that I always wrapped myself in like a burrito when I slept. I tend to get cold easy, and the pressure of the blankets weighing me down helped to relieve my anxiety like a giant comforting hug.

Before I knew it, I drifted off into a deep sleep with no dream to be had. I was grateful for once, as my dreams have been nothing but nightmares as of late.

*4 Hours Later*

I was awoken by a sudden knock at my front door. Who could be here? It's not like I had any friends to visit me. So, I grabbed the katana that lazily leaned against my dresser as I went to answer the door. I could not see through the peep hole though. Does someone have their finger over it?!

I quickly opened the door, katana unsheathed and ready to strike just in case, but immediately lowered my weapon and smiled as I saw my caseworker Mrs. Kim beyond the door. I then noticed the gentleman behind her and my panic was brought back in an instant.

What was Namjoon doing here with Mrs. Kim?!??!

part 4