#stressed about this one assignment that keeps moving. it's a topic we very much love but... it keeps getting moved.

[ra1nybowi-sys]

I'm getting concerned at the amount of times I'm going to hear a distorted scream of pain from one of the droplets. -🍢

[jungkooks-left-tiddie]

I think I’m in love | knj.

Summary: Your new internship sucked ass. It was fun, but exhausting at the same time. It also didn’t help that uni was also stressing you out. Amidst all this pressure and stress, perhaps a midnight walk on the Han River with your crush Kim Namjoon is what you needed all along. A/N: so I saw this namjoon picture circulating around stan twitter and my 3am sleep deprived ass decided to write a Drabble. 1 hour and 2k words later, here we are.

Words: 2k (maybe more idk I didn’t count)

Warnings: grammar issues, 4am writing

Song rec: I think I’m in love (kat dahlia)

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“You’ve never been to the Han River at night?” Screams of outrage filled the silent room as you shook your head.

“I’ve never had the need to,” You frowned, feeling a little lost. “Plus it’s not like my parents would have let me.”

“Have you ever heard of something called sneaking out?” Jimin continued berating you and you couldn’t help but feel a little upset.

“Look, I know it may seem like Jimin-hyung is overreacting, but he’s not.” Jungkook clarified and made you feel even worse. “Han River is amazing at night.” The 3 boys nodded as if it were a common fact.

“You guys aren’t making this any better, y’know.” You frowned yet again.

They continued describing how mesmerising the river looked at night and you could do nothing but frown and continue doing your work.

Unbeknownst to you, Kim Namjoon kept sneaking glances at you from where he was seated. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle and that got on Yoongi’s nerves.

“Just ask them out, for fucks sake.” Yoongi massaged his eyes as Seokjin and Hoseok tried not to laugh.

“What do you mean?” Namjoon pretended to not know what Yoongi’s words meant and noted down a few more points for his assignment.

“Please tell me Namjoon did not just ask that,” Yoongi took a deep breath before proceeding, “Look, we all know that you have the most obvious crush on (Y/N) so just go and confess ok?”

It was true. Ever since you’d moved into the flat right opposite to his, Namjoon’s been talking about you non-stop.

But he continued to pretend like he didn’t hear Yoongi.

Seokjin and Hoseok, who were tired of their constant bickering and Namjoon’s denial, decided to take matters into their own hands.

“Yoongi’s right Joon,” Seokjin shared a mischievous glance with Hoseok before continuing, “If you don’t do anything, we will.” He declared, standing up and making his way to where you were sitting with Hoseok following in suit.

Namjoon started panicking even more when Yoongi decided to join Jin and Hobi as well, because he knew; oh he knew that they would not hold back. So he quickly ran after them and tried to convince them to back out.

“Guys, come on!” He begged, “I promise I will ask them out one day, but please please don’t do anything now,” It was too late now. Taehyung had spotted the lot of them walking up to your table.

“(Y/N), look!” You winced as Jungkook elbowed you harshly.

“What, dumbass--”  Kim Namjoon was standing in front of you.

For a moment, you felt your entire surroundings become a blur and you could only see Kim Namjoon in all his 6ft glory. And as soon as it came, it was gone because you had to remind yourself that people were watching.

“Jin-hyung! What’s up?” Jungkook hits the other man’s arm in greeting.

“Stop hitting me, punk,” They started doing their own thing again, forcing Hoseok to take over.

“We heard you guys talk something about rivers and we were bored so we decided to join lmao,” Hoseok dragged one of the chairs from a nearby table and slumped.

“Damn, I didn’t realise we were that loud,” Tae rubbed his neck sheepishly.

“It was necessary though! I mean it's not everyday we come to know that our best friend never visited the Han River at night,” All eyes were on you after Jimin’s statement.

“Wait (Y/N) really?” You nodded reluctantly. “I lived pretty far away plus I had strict parents so…” You hoped they would drop the topic here, and were extremely thankful when they did.

“Well, I'm sure you’ll have plenty more opportunities to visit. So don’t worry!” Seokjin cheered you up a little.

Your phone started ringing from nowhere and apparently your boss wanted you to collect some files to write a report on from the main office so you quickly informed your friends and bade them farewell.

Collecting the files wasn't the hard part. The hard part was walking home with no one except your thoughts to keep you company. You thought about what your friends said about the Han river and decided to make a trip if you were done with your work.

It sucked to admit it, but they were probably right. The Han River must be really mesmerising for them to talk about it so much and you found yourself suddenly envious of the rest of them.

Night strolls weren’t an option in your old neighbourhood; and though the new one wasn’t bad, you were busy with both uni and your internship. I mean being able to read your fanfics itself was a luxury and these hoes expected you to take a leisure stroll? Keep dreaming luv <3

You said all that to say, but you were still thinking about going there tonight. It seemed like immense fun and plus, it would be your first midnight stroll. You just hoped, with all your might, that you would be able to finish the work as soon as possible.

Lo and behold! 3 cups of coffee later, you were done!

To celebrate, you blasted some music on the speakers and danced along to the lyrics, bopping your head along to the beats.

Namjoon looked at your dancing form through his window. You seemed like you were having a lot of fun, he concluded, an amused  grin now apparent on his face. Judging by the way you seemed to have fun, Namjoon concluded that you must've been done with the work you mentioned you had.

Namjoon did not know the practicality of this, but he had a very random idea to take you on a riverside date. And you know what? He was going to do it. Fuck Yoongi, he’s going to prove it to the rest of them that he, indeed, could ask you out.

And so he took out a random book and wrote a message on it, Taylor Swift’s You Belong With Me style.

He did not know where this sudden confidence came from, but he took a small pebble from his rock collection and chucked it across to make sure it hit your window (yes, he was careful not to break it) and waited for your response.

You, on the other hand, were confused. Your mini-dance session was interrupted by a clink! Against your window and you went to check for the source of the sound; only to be met with Kim Namjoon’s waving form.

You panicked internally, not knowing what to do in front of the man you obviously had a thing for. And you were even more confused when he held up a paper with something on it.

“Do you want to go on a riverside walk with me?” It read.

Apparently, you could not form words so that’s fun =D. Instead, you chose to stand there like 🧍🏽and just nod in response. Namjoon gave you a beautiful dimpled smile with a thumbs up before closing the curtains to his window and switching his lights off.

It was only now that you were hit with the epiphany that you were going on what was essentially a midnight date with the Kim Namjoon and boy, oh boy, you were most certainly NOT prepared for it.

Rushing to your closet, you threw on your most comfortable pair of outerwear (and of course made sure you looked presentable) before chewing like 5 breath mints and grabbing your scarf (and your apartment keys) to go and meet Namjoon.

“Hey,” He smiled.

“Hey,” You replied, still breathless.

“Ready to go?” Namjoon asked and you nodded in response. You noticed that he hid something in his bag but made no comment and instead fell into a steady pace beside him.

The walk to the river was not awkward at all, thanks to Namjoon’s ability to radiate comfort. Which was a blessing cause otherwise you would definitely have embarrassed yourself by now.

You didn't even realise that you’d reached your destination until you noticed the numerous cars and lights.

“Woah.” You had no words for the sight in front of you.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?” Namjoon chuckled and sighed, “I love coming here. It never gets old.” He stares off into the distance.

You get it now. The way the bridge lit up, the view, the vibe, everything. It was enthralling. And the fact that it was Namjoon who was with you made this 1000 times better.

You were so absorbed with admiring the view in front of you that your dumbass didn't notice Namjoon staring at you. There was just something so absolutely adorable and endearing in the way your eyes lit up and seemed to sparkle at the sight in front of the both of you.

“Namjoon, look!” You grab the sleeve of his hoodie, “Purple lights!” He quickly snaps a picture of not only the scenery in front of him, but also you. You who were so excited to see this view at midnight for the first time.

You spent a bit more time admiring the view, goofing off, and taking pictures before finally deciding that it was time for the both of you to head back. As upset as you were, you took comfort in knowing that you could visit this place more often hereon.

The conversation on the walk back home was one that you would never forget.

“No way… Here I was thinking that alpha and beta were just limited to greek alphabet and math,” The look of horror on Namjoon’s face when you explained omegaverse was something that you desperately wanted a picture of, and regretted not taking one.

“It’s a thing that definitely exists, and though I may not be a fan of it; I think a lot of people are into that kind of thing.”

“Interesting,” He comments, pausing. “Say, would the title ‘My Alpha mate’ qualify as omegaverse?” His sudden question caught you off guard.

“I think so… Why do you ask?”

“I think… I think Yoongi-hyung is into omegaverse.” Even though you did not mean to, you burst out in laughter. Yoongi being into reading stories centering around dom alpha mating rituals was something you never needed to know but were glad you did.

You continued explaining the various fanfiction tropes to the other male, especially your favourite ones.

“Oh, I once remember reading this amazing Zuko, Sokka and Suki fic somewhere and I genuinely think that it should be nominated for the Nobel prize,” Namjoon looked at you affectionately while you rambled about the plot of the story.

“And at the end--” You paused, looking behind you and caught Namjoon standing with a camera in his hands.

“Sorry, you just looked so beautiful, I had to take a picture.” You were sure you looked like the capillaries in your face burst.

There were a lot of things Namjoon was proud about, and making you blush that hard was definitely on his top 5.

“L-let’s go, dork.” You try your best to brush it off but KIM NAMJOON JUST COMPLIMENTED YOU STFU OK YOU WERE ALLOWED TO CRY.

Anyways, y’all reached your apartment complex sooner than the both of you wanted, and honestly? Neither of you wanted the other to go.

“So,” “Actually--” You both begin at the same time. Flustered, you gestured to Namjoon to go ahead with what he wanted to say and assured him that what you wanted to say wasn’t of any major importance.

“I actually bought something for you,” He took a small bag out of his backpack and handed it to you. “It’s a collection of poems and short stories that i wrote for-for you,” He flushed and avoided making eye-contact with you.

“Namjoon, I--”

“You don’t need to read it, but I just wanted to give them to you because… because I really like you.” It was your turn to blush (again).

“Of course I will read it, you idiot. I’m literally in love with you, what makes you think I won't?” Namjoon widened his eyes and proceeded to smile bashfully, pulling you into a tight hug.

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” He admits, swaying you around in his arms. You nuzzle deeper into his warm embrace and whisper--

“Thank you for everything, Joonie.”

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Mermay - Yanois

POV You're a merman who has spent as long as he can remember as the glorified pet of a crime lord and is now spending time in rehabilitation (the aquarium part of a marine sanctuary) to adjust. One of the staff comes by on his breaks to talk to you and you're not sure whether you want to kiss him or bite him.

Had to try my hand on a Yanois Mermay AU! Yancy takes inspiration from a moorish idol. If you'd like a story to go with this, click the read more.

(Word count under the read-more is 2,706)

-

Several weeks ago, there had been a police raid at the headquarters of one of the big gang bosses in the state. During this, a merman was discovered in a large tank like a glorified pet, something deemed illegal in the state. Members from the local marine sanctuary were called in to safely transport the furious merman to a more suitable location. They learned his name was Yancy through files on the computer, which was the name of a merchild that had disappeared from the same sanctuary years earlier.

He was brought into the open water and reintroduced to his family… and it went badly. There seemed to be a language barrier, as Yancy didn't appear to fully understand what they were telling him. Not only that, he didn't recognise any of them and seemed agitated that they knew him. He had been separated from merfolk for so long that he had likely forgotten the cues and language, as well as who his birth family were to begin with. The staff who had brought Yancy out had to quickly rein him back in before he used his sharpened teeth to bite his parents when they tried to approach to offer comfort. After that, he was brought to the aquarium.

The aquarium was on the grounds of the marine sanctuary and posed as a way for the general population to learn about the diverse life in the protected waters without causing any human impact. Yancy was brought into a large tank, far larger than his old one, and was allowed time to adjust to his new life without the gaze of the public eye. On one hand, having more room, new things to explore and interact with, and new food was a great benefit. On the other hand, Yancy had been warned by Boss while growing up that other people may pull tricks like this to get him to talk and spill important info. Don't trust anyone, he was told time and time again.

Because of that, Yancy took an oath of silence the moment he was noticed by the police. He made sure not a soul knew he could speak, and he was left alone as ‘one of those noise-only merfolk’. Even the staff that brought him to the marine sanctuary seemed oblivious. He quickly learned that his tactic of keeping humans away from him by using his fangs earned him a warning of “unpredictable and hostile” from the man he only knew as Warden. This became his badge of honour, a way to let out the frustrations of being taken away from his home and from Boss. For the aquarium staff who only wanted to give him medical check-ups, this was a worrying problem.

After three days of aquarium staff nearly having their hands bitten, Illinois was assigned to help with the job since he had an understanding of what Yancy was like from the very start. A man with an extensive history of working with merfolk and dangerous marine wildlife in the sanctuary - without even starting on his work outside his marine studies - he was utterly unfazed with any of Yancy's attempts to scare him off. He took several bites with little reaction, even going as far to use his hand as bait so he could hold Yancy in a way that the aquarium staff could complete their tasks. Yancy learned quickly that there was no point lashing out when Illinois was there and reluctantly accepted his fate…. Only to realise that the humans were telling the truth and they were only trying to make sure he was healthy.

Not only that, Illinois made it a habit to spend every single one of his breaks with Yancy. At first, he played innocent and insisted it was because he liked having someone quiet to practice his tour guide talks, but it gradually shifted to him talking about whatever was on his mind that day. Some days he would bring in photos from the newspaper, other days he would within the kelp forest in the far corner of the enclosure, Illinois kept the one-sided conversation going.

As the days turned to weeks, Illinois began bringing in videos or photographs that explored aspects of merculture. Despite his efforts to ignore Illinois, they sparked Yancy's curiosity. He was in the same enclosure for as long as he could remember, with the only interaction with anyone of his own kind going terribly wrong. Learning about his culture was nice, if somewhat bittersweet. As much as he wanted to ask questions, he had to keep his oath of silence. He didn't want the questions being thrown at him about what he could or couldn't remember. The past belonged in the past - he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Times like this intrigued Yancy about Illinois himself, bringing forth questions on what feelings he had toward the human. Why was Illinois so nice to someone who was clearly hostile? Why did Illinois talk like they were friends? Boss never did that. It was always focused and to the point. As much as being in the same space as Illinois annoyed him, Yancy gradually found that he didn't want to lose these moments. Was there an attraction to Illinois? Was that even something that he would be allowed to act on if that was the case?

Thankfully, before Yancy could stress too much over it, Illinois would do something to remind Yancy of how annoying he was. He would make certain quips while talking, or give one of those looks over his shoulder. A subtle gesture, but one that was loud enough to remind Yancy of Illinois' inflated ego. It got worse when another staff member would be in the room! Illinois would use a certain turn of phrase, He’d raise an eyebrow and give a cocky smirk when he would lament over a minor misfortune that befell whoever he was with.

On a few different occasions, he would wink and give a smile that would leave the other human briefly flustered. It was an irritating case of Illinois knowing he could capture anyone’s attention and using it against them. Maybe a pang of jealousy sparked it, but Yancy would remember what Boss said about being used, and bury any potential feelings as deep as possible. It would only be a matter of time before this was used on him. He wouldn’t be fooled.

Despite this stance, Yancy accepted that this cocky bravado was never on display when it was just the two of them. Without the eyes of anyone else on him Illinois was calm and confident in his knowledge of a range of topics, but he was also more reflective and observant. On days like today, where Yancy lay on one of the rocks at the bottom of the enclosure beside the large window, Illinois would turn his head to gauge Yancy's reaction on the new posters that had been put up on the wall opposite the pair. They could have a conversation without Yancy needing to say a word. It was like Illinois knew that the merman grunting meant a disagreement, or that a hum was asking for further clarification. Nothing could deny that Yancy had missed being able to talk with someone. 

(It also allowed the merman to take in the human’s attractive profile, the sun-kissed skin, those dark eyes that had a constant sparkle of intelligence as he spoke about topics that clearly fascinated him. Yancy could feel his lips tingle with the curiosity of wanting to know what Illinois' tasted like if they were to kiss.)

Yancy shook his head sharply, catching himself before he dropped his guard entirely. He couldn't admit he was in love with Illinois! It would be a weakness that the police could use to pull information out of him! That was what Boss always said! He had to snap out of it. Something had to help!

Both hands were planted on the ground as he shot up to the top of the enclosure. Illinois seemed oblivious, only moving to lift off his hat and shake out his hair. In the blink of an eye, Yancy scooped up a handful of water and dropped it over Illinois. There was a yelp as Illinois jumped and shot his head up to see what happened. Yancy propped himself against the edge of the wall and grinned down at Illinois. 

To Yancy's surprise, Illinois laughed. It wasn't the laugh he'd hear when Illinois was talking to other staff. It was different, more relaxed; and Yancy realised that it would not be as easy to distract himself from these feelings as he hoped.

At that moment, Illinois climbed the staff ladder in the corner of the room. It brought him up to the platform  at the water’s surface that was used when interacting with Yancy. The merman swam over as Illinois squeezed water out of his hair.

"I gotta say, you must be starting to feel rather comfortable if you're at the point of playing games," Illinois mused as he sat on the platform, "which is a shame. I would bet you would enjoy having a swimming partner here with you. There's plenty of space for someone else. I know there are staff who can and would swim, but I don't want any of them risking injury because of those teeth." Yancy showed off his sharp fangs again, earning himself an impressed hum from Illinois. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you? You'd be the most popular merman in the pod out in the ocean with those looks, I guarantee it. You'd have everyone looking to spend time with you, maybe even have the choice of any mate you want. It would be perfect."

Yancy didn't see the point of any of this. Why was Illinois bringing this up? He crossed his arms in an 'X' shape over his face.

"Why not? All we would need to do is help you find you manners and invite those who are closer in age to you. There are places we can hold introductions and -" Illinois was cut off by Yancy lifting himself higher to hiss at him. His eyes had narrowed to slits and his ear fins were spread out. An intimidation act.

Even so, Illinois was calm as he put three fingers against the middle of Yancy's forehead. "Right, right, sorry. I forgot you're a big, scary merman who thinks he deserves to be alone because he wasn't allowed to make friends when he was younger." As he spoke, he gently pressed against the white, smooth skin and slowly pushed Yancy toward the water. Yancy was briefly thrown by the nonresponse and did as instructed, only to regain sense and snap at the hand. However, by the time he did, Illinois had already moved it out of reach. Illinois shrugged and leaned back as he shifted his sitting position.

"I don't know why you're so guarded, Yancy. Not literally, of course. I know it’s likely a mix of the fear of your past combined with the uncertain future you find yourself in. I mean you yourself. You act as though everyone here is against you. We aren't. Warden put in a request that you not be called to be a witness in any upcoming trial. This Sanctuary is a new start. You don't have the pressure of the police over your shoulders. I promise you - if anyone asks you something, it's because they want to get to know you, not because they want information. This is a time to be just ‘Yancy’. No more, no less." 

Yancy lowered himself into the water until his eyes were at the surface. He didn't even try and hide the conflict on his face or in his body language. This went against everything Boss had told him. Everyone was against them. Everyone wanted information that could be used to hurt them. He had to stay on alert all the time. Anyone who betrayed Boss was sent in to Yancy so he could finish them off but… Was he scared of Boss getting revenge on him too?

"If you're happy to stay inside, that's okay." Yancy was sharply pulled out of his thoughts by that warm, trusting voice. "I've heard of merfolk in other places that enjoy living inside. If you're like that, then we're happy to make this place a proper home for you. We can show you the plans we were thinking to help this space be one that is brimming with life." That… Actually sounded nice, and Yancy's ears perked up at the idea. Boss never offered to do anything like that. "And if you want a friend or even the company of some aquatic creatures that you can spend time with, we can have something arranged. You shouldn't punish yourself to stay alone like this. Or if you want to find a mate to bring back here, I've already told you how easy that can be to set up."

Once again, Yancy made an 'X' with his arms. This time, it was with such speed that his movement splashed Illinois.

"Okay, that's a 'no'," Illinois laughed, before a thought crossed his mind. "Just so you know, it's okay if you're interested in having a *male* partner. This is an inclusive place. We host events every summer as part of the Pride festival for the LGBT community - which is to say anyone whose romantic and/or sexual attractions go beyond the expected norm." 

On Illinois went, giving Yancy a brief run-down of important terms, but Yancy wasn't fully paying attention. Illinois had given him food for thought. Clamming up as he had over recent weeks had been lonely, even more so than usual. He might have spent his entire life on his own, but this was different. Illinois and the other humans were openly trying to be nice to him and Yancy was pushing them away. What good would that do? He was already here for the long-term. Plus, if Illinois spoke the truth, then there might be a chance to start again. So then...

What would happen if he wanted to trust Illinois more? Could he risk letting his guard down so he could follow his curiosity? Even if Illinois was annoying, he always respected Yancy's refusals to cooperate, always kept him company on his time off - twice a day, five days a week. The two days without him were lonelier than he'd like to admit. The human made something in Yancy's chest flutter with the need to be closer. Illinois had been there from the start, and made it clear that he was trying to do what was best for Yancy. He had watched Boss develop relationships over the years, why shouldn't he? 

It was why he lifted a hand so he could beckon Illinois closer with a wag of his index finger. Illinois was amused and, thinking he had simply moved too far back, did as instructed. Moments later, he repeated his request and Illinois obeyed again. Illinois was close. It would be easy to change his mind and bite him.

Instead, Yancy reached forward, wrapped his arms around Illinois' neck, and sharply pulled him in for a kiss. Before Yancy could take the lack of reaction as a bad thing, Illinois returned it, letting a hand rest on the back of the merman's head to keep him close. Yancy couldn't describe the taste, but it seemed so 'Illinois' that it really didn't matter what they were beyond that.

When Illinois pulled back to catch his breath, Yancy was delighted to see that the action had stunned the other into silence. It would be the perfect time to use his ace:

"Think youse can handle being quiet for a little longer?"

Even if he hadn't spoken in weeks, there was no denying that it wasn't a sentence parroted by the staff. Yancy's accent perfectly matched Boss'. Along with a teasing tone in his voice, this was proof that Yancy’s fluency of English went beyond listening skills.

All Illinois could do was nod, words completely failing him in a revelation that no one could have predicted. Yancy grinned and tugged him back in for a second, deeper kiss.

[songtoyou]

Epiphany - Part Four

Paring: Luke Crain x Female Reader

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,080

Warnings: Talks of drug use and recovery. Swearing and self-doubt.

Description: Life has never been easy for Luke Crain. After the death of Nell, Luke realizes that he needs to make some changes. He decided to stay in Massachusetts and attend rehab. He was determined to remain on his path of sobriety. When you get assigned to be Luke’s sponsor, it opens a new door of possibilities that neither you nor Luke expected.  

A/N: I am sorry that it has taken me so long to write and upload this chapter. I have not been feeling so good since I posted that last chapter. Lots of anxiety keeping me from doing things such as write. Anyway, here is the new chapter. I wanted to write about Aunt Janet. I felt that the show didn’t really tell us much about her except that she took care of the kids after the events of Hill House in 1992. 

Note: Italics represent the past or past conversations.

Feedback is wonderful. It is nice knowing if people are actually liking this fic.

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Tag list: @morningstar09

~Aunt Janet’s House – 2002 ~

“Luke! Hurry up, or you’re going to be late for school!” Aunt Janet yelled up the stairs.

“Luke! Come on!” exclaimed Nellie. “I’ll go check on him.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” said Janet. Her youngest nephew often worried her, especially since it was the tenth anniversary of Olivia’s death this past summer. Janet started to notice that Luke became more recluse and stayed up in his room. The only person Luke would interact with was Nell, which was not surprising to Janet. The twins only managed to become closer as they got older.

What really began to cause Janet to worry was catching Luke steal money from her purse. She asked him what he was doing and why he was stealing. However, Luke could come up with a pretty decent lie about needing money to buy flowers for Olivia’s grave.

In truth, it was to buy beer. Luke had taken a liking to the barley and hops beverage. It helped him feel numb and not worry about anything. Unfortunately, Luke had one too many beers last night and was paying for it. Nellie found him headfirst in the toilet regurgitating the contents of his late-night beer binge.

“Eww, gross. What is wrong with you?” asked Nellie. She pinched her nose as the stench of Luke’s puke was overwhelming.

“What does it look like! I’m sick! Tell Aunt Janet that I can’t go to school.”

“Luke, come on. You have missed too many days already. They’re going to hold you back another year if you miss any more school,” Nellie argued while searching through Luke’s drawers and closet for clothes.

Luke managed to get up from the bathroom floor when he felt it was safe. He rinsed out his mouth to relieve it from the after taste of throw-up.

“Come on! Get cleaned up and put these on,” ordered Nell and shoved Luke’s clothes in his arms.

Luke groaned and plopped down on his bed. “Nellie…I can’t go to school today. I’m too sick.”

“Well, your sickness is also making me sick, but I managed to get up and ready for school today. Now move it! I’ll keep bugging you if you don’t move. I’m not going to let you fall to the waste side. Do you hear me, Luke?”

“Fine! I’m getting dressed!” Luke yelled to get Nellie off of his back.

No matter what occurred between them, neither twin could ever hate the other. They were each other’s best friends and closest confidante. They had to be. Especially now that they were the last two left in Aunt Janet’s care. As soon as their eldest siblings turned eighteen, they hightailed it out of Janet’s house for college.

Luke slowly trudges down the stairs with his backpack slumped on his shoulders.

“Hey, there he is,” greeted Aunt Janet. “Would you like some breakfast, sweetie?”

“No! No breakfast,” Luke replied with his head on the table.

However, Nellie pushed a plate of dry toast in front of him and told him to at least nibble some bites. “Here’s some orange juice. Take slow sips. The last thing we need is you spewing junks in the toilet again,” whispered Nellie while Aunt Janet was in the kitchen. She would not out that her brother was hungover. That last thing Nell wanted was to cause any more trouble for Luke.

She knew why Luke did not want to go to school, and it had to do with, what else, their family. Some of the kids at school saw Luke as an easy target to bully and terrorize. The topic of their “messed-up” family was their go-to whenever they wanted to antagonize Luke. Nell often found herself a target for bullies but could stand up for herself a lot better than Luke.

With the anniversary of Olivia’s death, the bullies made it their mission to torment Luke about growing up without a mother or father. They would push him against the lockers, knocking his glasses off his face, and trip him in the hallways. It was too much to handle, and Luke was tired.

Leaning back in his chair, Luke re-read the words on the computer screen. His instructor loved the essay he turned in and advised him to expand upon it. Luke pushed aside his reservations about exploring his past traumas through writing. It was a better outlet for Luke to help cope and tackle past stressful life experiences.  Not only did Luke have support from his instructor and you, but his counselor at Banyan Treatment Center, Rob, also supported the idea of using expressive writing as a way to heal.

Luke could not deny that writing helped clear his head. Something he learned while being in rehab back in Los Angeles. It allowed him to face things from his past that he had pushed aside. However, Luke had some reservations about how much he should…open himself up when it comes to sorting out his past events. There were still things that Luke was not quite ready to face.  

Oh my God!" exclaimed Luke. "It has been a month and a half since we have seen that movie. It would be best if you got over the ending. It happened. There is nothing you can do about it."

"I can't, Luke. It was total bullshit!" you yelled back furiously.

Luke calmly said your name to get your attention. "Listen to me; we don't even know if Steve Rogers actually stayed back in time to be with Peggy. He may have…"

"Then where did he go? Huh? He just up and left his friends who he just got back. Steve and Peggy never even dated! They kissed, that is it. Yes, there was an attraction that each had for one another, but that was all it ever way…an attraction. They are a 'what could have been' type of couple—the movie completely throughout all of Steve's character development…right out the window. Whatever, I'm over it," you stated, throwing your hands up in defeat.

You and Luke were driving to his Aunt Janet's house for a visit. He mentioned to you about wanting to visit his aunt for some time but had not gotten around to it. You were surprised that he asked you to come along.

Luke mentioned that Shirley and Theo were too busy to come with him and did not want to go alone. You agreed on the condition that he drive since Aunt Janet lived an hour and a half away from Wilmington. Lately, your anxiety has been going up and down, so you were not comfortable being at the hands of the wheel, especially on the freeway. You did not understand why you had such anxiety these past few days. You chalked it up to being nervous about your final project at school. The assignment was to create a self-portrait. It should be simple enough, but of course, the art instructor wanted students to "think outside of the box" and not have it be a regular standard portrait of themselves.

Each draft you came up with was of you in some state of turmoil, whether it be you depicted on a gurney getting resuscitated from your heroin overdose or lying in a pool of your own vomit. You could not understand why this particular project was giving you such a hard time. You were three-years sober. You had a steady job and gone back to school. Your relationship with your parents was better than ever. So, why the thought of a self-portrait brought upon negative thoughts about oneself?

You mentioned your troubles to Luke, and he was very sympathetic. While he was now 206 days sober, there were times where he felt…like the achievement did not mean much.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked him while on the way to Aunt Janet's house.

"It's just…this isn't my first rodeo when it comes to recovery," Luke began to say. "There is always this little voice in the back of my head that…"

"That it is only temporary. I have that little voice too. I'm not too fond of that little voice. Three years sober, and there are times where I still feel like a total failure. I shouldn't, but…I can't help it," you revealed to Luke honestly.

"Thankfully, there is another little voice in the back of my head that gives tells me that I'm doing a good job now and then. It's just that positive little voice has been a tad quiet lately," you added.

Luke could pick up on the little defeatist tone in your voice, and he did not like it. You immediately felt his worry about you. "Hey," you said to get his attention and placed a hand on his arm. "Don't worry about me, okay. I'm fine. I have my fears like every recovering addict. It is nice to talk to someone about it, particularly someone who understands, you know. That helps."

Silence soon filled the car, but it was not awkward. You never had awkward or uncomfortable silences with Luke. For some reason, Luke was one of the few comforting presences in your life. Regardless of all of the hardships he has gone through in his life, he offered a sense of hopefulness. With his 6'3 stature, Luke really came off more like a gentle giant. It was like he did not view himself as this grown tall man, but probably still felt like that little kid hiding under the bed from the "Tall Man" at Hill House.

"Luke," you said to get his attention. "Are you happy?"

"No," he replied immediately, then clarified when he saw the look you gave him. "I mean, am I happy that I am over 200 days clean, then yes I am, very much so. But…I don't know, there is a small part of me that is scared to be happy…to be content in fear of something going wrong."

When Luke pulled the car into Aunt Janet's driveway, the older woman immediately came out of the house to greet her youngest nephew.

"There he is, my little boy," she said and wrapped her arms around Luke, which he reciprocated.

"Hi Aunt Janet, how are you?"

"I'm fine, darling. How have you been?" Aunt Janet asked, pulling away to get a good look at Luke. He looked much better than he did at Nell's funeral.

"Good. I'm doing good. Everyone is doing…fine," Luke replied, then turned towards you. He introduced you as his friend and not his sponsor to his Aunt, which kind of surprised you.

"So nice to meet you," said Aunt Janet taking your hand. She motioned for you both to follow her into the house. "I hope you both are hungry. I made an array of sandwiches and salads for lunch. Luke, I also made your favorite…chocolate pecan pie bars."

"Thank the Lord because he was hoping you would make them on the car ride here. It was all he talked about?" you teased.

"Once you have one, then you will know what I am talking about," Luke responded with a smile.

Aunt Janet lead you both into the kitchen.

"Can I use the bathroom to freshen up?" you asked her.

"Oh yes, dear. It is down that hallway, the first door to the right," told Aunt Janet as she showed you where to go. "Luke, you should probably wash your hands first," she added.

"Yes, Aunt Janet," he said and went to the sink to wash his hands.

When you were no longer in earshot, Aunt Janet stood beside her nephew and said, "Your friend seems really sweet."

Luke could not hold back his smile, "Yeah, she is genuinely nice. She's fun to hang out with. We have a lot of the same interests. Shirley and Theo have met her as well," he mentioned and shared that both of his sisters really liked you.

Aunt Janet turned her head to see if you came if you were around the corner. When you were not, she leaned over to Luke and said, "Very pretty too. She'd make a lovely…"

"Aunt Janet, she is just a friend. I can't date her anyway. She's…they say you shouldn't date anyone while still in recovery."

"I'm so proud of you," Aunt Janet said as she placed the food on the kitchen table. "You are becoming the man I always knew you could be."

Luke would be lying to himself if he denied that there was some form of attraction that he had for you, both physically and emotionally. He knew that the feelings that he was slowly developing towards you could be considered wrong. You were his sponsor…a dedicated one at that too. It would not be right for him to act on any attraction he may have for you—no doubt, that you would not reciprocate them, which would be disappointing to Luke.

"Better to just suffer in silence," Luke thought to himself.

"Don't you want a girlfriend? A family of your own someday?" asked Aunt Janet.

"Yeah…maybe. Someday. I'm just learning to take care of myself without drugs in my system. There is no way I can be a dedicated father or husband to anyone… at least not right now. I am still a work in progress," Luke admitted to his aunt. "I do like…" But Luke stopped when he heard your footsteps approaching.

"Oh, my goodness. The pictures on the wall… I'm assuming the little kid with glasses is you, Luke."

The three of you sat around the kitchen table with your plates stacked with delicious food.

"Luke was the absolute cutest kid. He had a little lisp as well," Aunt Janet shared. "I have more pictures of the kids if you would like to see them?"

"Yes," you replied ecstatically.

"No," Luke disputed, "We are in the middle of eating."

"We can multitask. Let's see those pictures," you asserted gleefully while Aunt Janet got up from the table.

With a belly full of food, the three you were now sitting outside on the patio, drinking tea, and eating Aunt Janet's yummy chocolate pecan pie bars. You already looked through three photo albums that showed Luke and his siblings' younger years.

"I wanted to take as many pictures as I could of the kids. They hated it, but I told 'em they would appreciate it when they got older," expressed Aunt Janet. "Here's a picture of Nell on her wedding day. That's her husband, Arthur. Sadly, he passed away a couple of months after they got married. But…they are together now."

You looked at the photo of the young couple. Nell looked very much like her older sisters and her mother. You could tell that there was a kindness about Nell just by looking at the picture. She was the type of person to go above and beyond for her family and even strangers. Luke would say that Nell was just that type of person to care about everyone, no matter who they were or where they came from.

Luke did share with you that one of his biggest regrets was not going to Nell's wedding. He said that he tried, but Shirley told him to leave. Luke said that it was for the best and that he was in no right state of mind to support his twin the way she deserved on her wedding day.

Thankfully for Luke, Nell understood and held no hard feelings. She never did when it came to her other half.

Aunt Janet began to sniffle, and when you looked up from the photo, you saw the older woman dab her eyes with a napkin. Out of instinct, Luke grabbed his Aunt's tiny hand and squeezed it with his as a way to show support. Just as he was Aunt Janet's little boy, Nell was her little girl. She was the one to raise them, take care of them, and guide them into adulthood.

None of the Crain children were perfect; they were far beyond that notion. However, there is no denying that if they did not have Aunt Janet take care of them and love them, they could have been worse off. Luke had the overwhelming feeling of guilt encompassing him at the moment as Aunt Janet tried to hold back her tears.

You instantly looked up at Luke. You could feel his sense of guilt towards the way he treated his aunt while growing up. He looked over at you. It was a silent conversation you both were having between one another. You mouthed, "Do you want me to go?" so he could have this moment alone.

With a shake of his head, 'No,' Luke spoke up to get his aunt's attention. "Aunt Janet…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for…for all the Hell I put you through while living here. You did so much for Nell and me, and the others that I…shit all over it. I stole and lied to you like it was my job. You deserved better. I just want you to know that…me getting hooked on drugs…well…that was…no matter what had happened…it was my choice to go down that path of destruction. I love you, Aunt Janet, and I am so appreciative of the sacrifices you made for my siblings and me. I wish that I weren't such a fuck up…"

"Oh sweetheart, no, you are not a…fuck up," Aunt Janet interjected and continued, "Not at all. I love you so much that…I would do anything for you, you know that, right? Your childhood is in the past. It happened. It is a part of you. The fact that you are continuing to remain clean after all that has occurred…well, that is something you should be most proud of. It shows that you are dedicated to your sobriety and turning your life around. No one said this process was easy, but you stayed the course and continued to make good decisions. As I told you earlier, you are becoming the man I always knew you could be."

"Now, I'm going to cry," Luke giggled as he dabbed his eyes with a napkin. "I didn't mean to turn this into a sob fest, but I wanted you to know that I'm sorry for what I put you through and that I love you very much, Aunt Janet."

Aunt Janet emerged from her seat to wrap her arms around her nephew and kiss the top of his head. It was a sweet moment to witness.

[punkpoemprose]

Single Bells- A Kristanna Oneshot

Rating: G (General Audiences) Universe: Modern AU, Librarian Anna, Single Dad/ Firefighter Kristoff Length: 8239 Words

A/N: Merry (day late) Christmas Val! @val-2201 I’m sorry I got a little bit behind. As per the usual the word count got away from me a bit so I ended up needing a little time to finish, haha. You said you enjoy single parent AUs so I hope you enjoy this little piece about single Dad Kristoff needing to solicit assistance from a very nice red headed librarian!  I hope you had a wonderful holiday and that your New Year will be full of joy!

Anna wasn’t supposed to still be at work, but if there was one thing she couldn’t say no to, it was a kid with a research project. Especially a first grader with beautiful blonde ringlets dragging her frazzled looking father to the information and research desk that Anna had been staffing for the day. Normally she worked only as the children’s librarian, but since two different librarians were out on maternity leave, she’d been willing to shift gears and wear many hats.

They’d come to her desk within the last five minutes of her shift, but Anna hadn’t mentioned it. It was two weeks from the last day of school for the winter holiday, and if her suspicions were correct, the father and daughter were working on a particular project for which she’d assisted four other families in the last few days.

Teachers loved to assign festive work before the holidays, but sometimes she wondered if they really thought through the fact that heavily parent involved projects were sometimes more stress than they were fun. She'd helped quite a few families try to determine what their ancestral traditions had been. Some, she was happy to report, did have legitimate plans to include them in their celebrations after the project conclusion. That at least made her feel like some good was coming out of the stress.

“I have a presentation to do!” the little girl announced with a smile that revealed a missing front tooth.

She was dressed in the brightest green coat she'd ever seen and her little hat, that she'd already pulled away to reveal static filled curls, was made to look like a reindeer. She couldn't help but feel that this was going to be another kid who insisted upon celebrating a newfound tradition. If she was, in fact, working on that project.

Anna grinned in return, noting the child’s enthusiasm for the project she was in the library to work on. She’d said it perhaps a bit too loudly for some of the other librarians’ tastes, but for Anna there was nothing like the boisterousness of young children. She supposed there was a reason that her office and the children’s area in general had been relegated to the basement. Being upstairs still felt strange.

“That’s due tomorrow,” the father said, sounding a bit miserable but looking mostly defeated.

He had a bit of scruff to his chin, and the bags under his eyes told Anna that he probably hadn’t slept well in weeks. It was a common sight with parents around the holidays, exhaustion and uncharacteristic scruffiness. Not that she really knew whether his scruffiness was uncharacteristic, having never seen him before in his life.

“Uh oh!” Anna said, directing her attention at the child rather than the father, knowing that she was much better at working with kids than adults, “We’ve got to work fast then, huh? What’s the presentation about?”

The little girl nodded, “It’s about Christmas traditions! I told Daddy on Monday that we needed to do it, but he forgot.”

When Anna looked toward the father out of the corner of her eye, she saw him flush. It was Thursday, so she imagined that they’d had some time to complete it. She wouldn’t judge him for the timing of course, she barely could keep herself on a schedule somedays, let alone a six-year-old. She also made a conscious effort to not judge any of her patrons, even the ones who came in asking about unique topics.

She’d once had a woman come in asking for an entire book on just Guinea pig costumes, and she wasn’t sure whether she should be more concerned for her guinea pig or that the library system had not one, but six books on guinea pig costuming. Last minute project fell somewhere toward the bottom of the judgement list.

“I didn’t forget,” the dad said, sounding very tired, but not particularly upset, “I’ve just been busy, and I didn’t realize it was Thursday.”

Anna smiled and then looked at the dad, “It happens to all of us. Can you two narrow down the kind of Christmas traditions you’re looking for?”

The dad looked embarrassed again.

“She needs to pick a specific country to look up traditions from and she wants to pick the one my family’s from.”

“Oh, that’s easy enough,” Anna said with a nod, “Where is your family from, and we’ll go from there!”

“That’s kind of the problem,” the man said with a sigh, “I don’t know.”

***

They were in the children’s area, on one of the library’s iPads at one of the kid sized tables. The little girl, Ivy, was in her glory. She’d spent more time commenting on the posters on the walls and snowflakes on the ceiling than she had focusing on the task at hand, but Anna didn’t really mind. It was easy enough for her to hold a conversation with both the girl and her father as she searched for clues about the man’s heritage. Really all they had to go on was his last name.

  Bjorgman. Kristoff Bjorgman.

“I think that my parents were maybe immigrants. I was adopted when I was just a little older than Ivy, but I’d been in the system since I was maybe two or three? I don’t remember them, and I was never given any records. My birth certificate was created when I entered the system, so it doesn’t have either of their names on it. Just mine, and that was just because it had been pinned to my shirt when someone dropped me off.”

Anna couldn’t help but feel as though that was terribly sad, but the man, Kristoff, and his daughter didn’t seem phased by it. It was just another detail of life for them she supposed, but she couldn’t imagine not remembering her parents. All she had of them now was memories, and a few knick-knacks that had managed to be saved after the house fire.

She tried not to think about that though, and it was easy enough to direct her attention back to the man sitting across from her.

He was much too large for the table, and he made the child’s chair he sat in look comically small. He was handsome, and by Anna’s estimation, not much older than she was. He was maybe 26, tops, and she couldn’t imagine having a kid of her own.

“Your adoptive parents don’t know anything?”

He shook his head, “No more than I do. The information just doesn’t exist I guess.”

“She didn’t want to do her Mom’s family’s traditions?” she asked, fishing only a little bit. 

She thought that maybe given the level of flustered he seemed to be exuding might be indicative of him being a single dad. She hoped not on the one hand because that was such a difficult position to be in, but also he was the first cute dad she’d run into that wasn’t significantly older than her. So she wanted to make sure if she was ogling him in the chair it was something that she could do with a clear conscience.  

“No, and even if she did, we don’t really know anything about hers either. She’s passed on. It’s just us.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry…”

He shook his head, “It’s alright.”

He looked over at his daughter then, smiling at her softly as she pushed her little chair back and walked over to the bookshelf to grab something out of the easy reader bin. She’d looked bored for a little while and was now clearly determining that this was grown up work that she didn’t want anything to do with and therefore was free to explore.

Anna couldn’t help but grin when she saw her pluck out a Mercy Watson book. She loved those. She must be reading a little beyond her age group to be reading it for fun.

Turning her attention back to the ipad, and away from the little girl who was eagerly plopping herself into a beanbag, she looked at the search results she pulled up with his last name. The information on the screen was pretty much what they already knew. His first and last name were Nordic of some kind.

“So we’re looking at Sweden, Norway, Finland, Denmark, or Iceland. We can make an educated guess based on where you lived when you were a kid based on the census data from that area as most immigrant families move to areas with other people from the same country, or where there’s a strong presence of the culture they’re familiar with.”

“Well… I was born here, I think. Or at least this is where I got put into the system, which is why I moved back here a few years back.”

 Anna lit up, she didn’t have to do any more searching. Any vaguely Nordic last name in their town generally meant one thing.

“I can say then, with 90% certainty, you’re Norwegian. Not that it helps right now, but have you ever thought about taking a DNA test? Kids tend to just have more heritage questions as they get older and if you both take one it can help with any genealogy research."

"That's a lot of certainty for just a last name and a town," he said, looking surprised as he met her eye.

"Oh, well I mean Arendale was named for the Arendelle family and was founded by Norwegian immigrants so most of the population is descended from Norwegian families. Most immigrant families from Norway still settle here when they come over from the states. I mean there’s a little Norway downtown." 

"Oh," he said, "You just knew that? I guess it's probably something that comes up often…"

"Yes, but well also I'm an Arendelle. It's been drilled into me since I was born. We turned the family manor into a museum a few years ago. I used to give tours when I was in my master's program."

"That's…"

"Extremely boring,” she interrupted, not wanting him to trouble himself to find something nice to say, “Except on field trip days. Which is how I decided working with kids was for me. Adults, eh. No offense of course."

"None taken,” he replied, grinning, “Why do you work at the research desk then?"

"I'm actually a children's librarian," she said happily, glancing over at his daughter who had looked up over her book at them with interest as they talked about information valuable to her project again. Anna motioned with her hands like she was opening a book and then gave her a thumbs up which the girl returned with a grin.

"I'm just helping out because a few of the librarians are out on maternity. If you want to see what I usually do you should come for my ornament making sessions. I'm doing them every day after school and then in the mornings on the weekends until the day before Christmas Eve."

He looked almost impressed.

"Daddy! We have to!"

"Now she's tuning in," he said with a sort of shy smile that was quickly accompanied by a shrug. "Come here sweetheart, you have to pick a tradition. We're pretty sure I'm Norwegian."

"And I know so many traditions!" Anna told the girl brightly, "we don't even have to search!"

“Hooray!” she said with a grin, carefully sliding the book’s ribbon bookmark into the page she had marked with her thumb before running over to where her father was seated.

She crawled up on his lap, book still in hand.

“Can we pick one that talks about food?”

He laughed and as he tucked the little curly head under his chin he mouthed, ‘bottomless pit’.

Anna couldn’t help but feel that before she left for the evening, she’d be processing a minor and adult card sign up and checking out a Mercy Watson book and perhaps even a Norwegian cookbook.

“No! Wait! One about ornaments! I love ornaments!”

Maybe, she thought, a craft book too.

The dad rolled his eyes playfully from up above where his daughter could see and Anna did her best to stifle a giggle. These were the moments where she loved her job most.

***

They'd come for her craft time the next day, and Ivy had told her how well she'd done at her presentation and how she'd been proud to already know a bunch of the other Norwegian traditions other kids had shared.

Now though she was busying herself with playing with the other kids, the usuals that Anna had introduced to her by name.

Her blonde head was bobbing along in a conversation as the kids built a large block tower together, and she could see her dark little eyes gleaming with mischief as they discussed knocking it down when they were all done. Anna had never in her life been more grateful that they had foam instead of wooden blocks.

“She looks just like you."

Her hair was just a little lighter than his, and her eyes a little darker, but there was something in her features, her expressions that was an identical copy to her fathers. Even only having met them the day before, she could tell that she definitely took after him.

“I hear that a lot, and it’s funny… Not like really funny, I mean, it’s just interesting because Ivy’s not mine,” he said quietly as the little girl played with the other children.

Most of the other parents had been content to talk amongst themselves. They were regulars and they were comfortable together, being mostly moms. Anna noticed that they were occasionally glancing back and forth between the two of them surreptitiously. Or at least as close to sneaky as a group of nosy 30-something women could be.

“I usually don’t tell people that. I don’t know why I told you that.”

“It’s par for the course for librarians. We’re like bartenders, just with books,” She replied a bit too quickly.

He looked down at his feet for a moment then met Anna’s eye again, smiling a bit nervously, like he’d worked something out in his head, and then took a deep breath.

“I mean legally speaking she is mine, just so you don’t think I stole a kid. After her mother died, I adopted her. Genetically she’s got another Dad out there somewhere, but her mom, Evelyn, she never mentioned him. I don’t think he was ever involved.”

“Oh,” Anna said, feeling her face grow hot at the misconception, “I’m sorry. So Evelyn was your…?”

She knew she was probably just digging herself a deeper hole, but she felt a warmth flutter to life in her heart. He’d mentioned before that Ivy’s mom had passed on, but she’d assumed that he was her biological father and that was why she called him Dad. That he’d been adopted, and then he’d adopted a child after meant a lot. That made her realize that her interest in him, regardless of how new and how impossible, was rooted in more than looks.

“Neighbor,” he said quickly, like he was afraid of her saying anything else.

She stared at him, surprised by the answer, watching him blush under her gaze.

“Sorry, I’m just used to people thinking we were… you know, together. She was just… she was so young. I wouldn’t have been with her like that, she was just a neighbor and a friend. I think she had a rough life. She didn’t talk about it much, but when she moved in next door to me she was working a bunch of odd jobs with crazy hours and Ivy was two. Evie was eighteen. I think her parents might have kicked them out or something, so I would watch Ivy on my days off because Evie didn’t have anyone and it was just me and my dog anyway, so I had plenty of free time."

He took a breath. Before Anna could find the words to say, he kind of sighed and shrugged, deciding to say more. Anna just focused on his eyes while he talked. There was a deep love there and she could tell it was for Ivy.

"I started taking extra days off here and there with my vacation time because Evelyn started to not feel well and she would go to the clinic a lot. Sometimes she would wait for hours for someone to tell her she was stressed or whatever. When they found out it was cancer it was too late. It was less than a year before she was gone. When no family came forward for Ivy, I did. She was three then. I’m the only dad she knows. The only parent she knows really. I didn’t have many pictures of her mom, because she was my neighbor and I didn’t think to take some when we found out she was sick, but we talk about her.”

Anna thought she might cry.

She was no stranger to loss, but she’d never heard of anyone doing anything like that before. She tried to step up for strangers and community members a little but each day. She donated to charity and worked with the economically disadvantaged, but she’d never changed her life forever just to help someone else. She’d never been able to see herself stepping up that far.

“You adopted your neighbor’s kid.”

She let her eyes tear up, her throat felt tight.

She could certainly see that beneath the sort of gruff exterior he first offered, there was a kindness that ran through him. She could see it now, as she had before when he’d been focusing on helping his daughter. He had a lot of love in him, and it was obvious when he glanced back over to where Ivy was playing and smiled.

 “Well I fostered her first, but yeah. I mean my parents did it for me, and I guess I didn’t want to roll the dice and hope that someone else would be as kind when I had the means… at least financially. I’m three years in and still working out the rest. I just feel lucky everyday they let me adopt her with my work schedule and everything.”

“I think,” she said quietly, trying not to cry, “I think most parents are. Even the ones who’ve had their kids from the start.”

“Thank you for saying that. I don’t know many other parents, so it’s always a guessing game about whether I’m doing the right thing.”

 He looked back from Ivy and caught a glimpse of Anna’s expression. She saw him frown and look genuinely concerned. She wanted to tell him not to worry, but he found the words quicker than she did.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, sorry. I’m not great with people.”

He held a hand out to her, paused for a moment like he was wondering what he should do, and then rubbed the back of his neck with it.

Anna shook her head and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, giving the moms staring at her openly her best and most polite look of “it’s fine, but also mind your own business”. They seemed to get the picture well enough, returning to their own conversations with only a mildly mischievous and conspiratorial gaze at each other. Anna was sure she’d have plenty of texts later from the library mom chat asking what she and the “hot dad” had been talking about.

“No, you’re fine. I’m kind of an emotional person. I’m just happy for you two. She loves you so much, I can tell. She deserves to have someone who loves her just as much.”

He smiled softly and then nodded, putting his hand back down at his side and appearing to relax slightly now that the topic was back to just Ivy. He still looked as tired as he had the day before, especially now after she’d accidentally worried him.

“She’s a special kid. She’s not like me very much, even though I’m raising her. She’s so optimistic and brave and sort of stubborn… which I suppose she could have gotten from me, but really she’s great and I’ve been so lucky to have her."

Anna nodded in return, wiping the tears away on her sleeve.

“Yeah, I can see that. And I don’t mean to pry but… you look a little tired. I hope she didn’t make you pull an all-nighter on that project.”

He sort of chuckled at her lame joke, and she appreciated the attempt at acceptance of her levity. She was never particularly good at intentional humor. Most people just laughed when she accidentally tripped over something or had chocolate on her face and didn’t notice.

“No, no all-nighter. I’m just exhausted.”

“I hear parenting does that to a person.”

He nodded and then sighed, giving her a sort of nervous look before looking beyond her to Ivy.

"I don't mean to tell you my life story. Even though, I kind of already did, but… I just feel bad when I can’t give her the world, you know? Like, I finally wanted to do a big at home Christmas for her this year. We were going to go home to see my family like usual, but my Dad just had some pretty serious back surgery and even though he loves the kids my sisters and I agreed not to flood the house while he’s recovering.”

She nodded along some more, knowing that he probably didn’t have anyone to vent this sort of thing to. She wasn’t a parent herself, but working with so many young children meant that she talked with plenty of parents, and she at least comprehended a bit of what it was like. She couldn’t pretend to understand fully, but she didn’t mind listening to parents when they needed to breathe. She particularly didn’t mind listening to Kristoff.

He looked back at her with a sort of exasperation that she was familiar with. He looked like he’d just run a marathon in his head. He looked like her after inventory day.

“You know I never realized how much my mom did for us for the holidays, you know? It’s one more week of school, and then I have to find a babysitter for the days I’m not off during her winter vacation. I barely managed to negotiate for Christmas off at the firehouse as it is, let alone to find all that time. The guys are great and sometimes I can bring her to work if I don’t have anyone to watch her because someone usually stays behind or one of the guys will have their wife or older kid there for a visit, but around the holidays… there’s a lot of fires you know. Not really a place to bring a kid. I have shopping to do, wrapping, we have to get a real tree because she really wants one, and then there’s cookies to bake, and God I’m just glad she hasn’t asked about those elf things because I don’t think I could pull that off too.”

“That seems like a lot.”

“It is, and that’s not even the half of it. We have to get a wreath to bring to her mother’s grave, and it’s so hard to find in the snow because it’s just a small grave marker so it’s really a whole day affair. I don’t mind, but I don’t want to run out of time to do everything else. She wants to go caroling and see santa and make ornaments… which thanks for this by the way, it was nice. She’s very proud of her star. It’s just with work and everything it feels like there’s not enough time.”

Anna nodded. It was a common concern with the other parents, but most of them had more hands to help, less work, and more practice at it.

“I can help.”

She didn’t think before she spoke. She was absolutely shocked by her own words even as she said them. They were practically strangers, and he was venting about his difficulties as a single dad while she was trying not to notice how perfectly chocolate brown his eyes were, or how easy it would be to imagine him in a firefighter’s calendar. Or rather, trying not to let herself wonder whether AFD had plans to put out a firefighter’s calendar this year.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You weren’t,” she said, watching as some of the moms began to get their kids ready to leave, knowing her window of opportunity to get her thoughts out was closing by the moment, “I offered. I’m great at wrapping and I love to shop. If you’re looking for help I’m happy to give it.”

He looked at her for a long moment, until Ivy ran over and pulled on his pant leg.

“Daddy,” she said, “Can I have some candy? Danny’s mom brought candy canes and she said I had to ask you first.”

He looked to Anna for a moment, and she understood the concern in his eyes.

“Oh, you mean Mrs. James! She’s so nice. She brings candy for us all the time. She’s been bringing Danny here for storytime and crafts since he was just a little baby.”

She could understand his concern. She was always a little worried herself when the parents brought things to share, especially if the parents were fairly new. It was one of those fears that was mostly irrational, but one really never knew.

He looked back to his daughter and gave her a stunning smile that made Anna melt on the spot.

“Yeah sweetheart that would be fine. Please and thank you, right?”

“Always!” she said, running off in the direction of Danny’s mom who was waiting with a cheeky smile, staring again at Anna and offering her a wink.

“Were you serious?” Kristoff asked, breaking her concentration as she tried to give Mrs. James a ‘please don’t interfere’ look in return.

Not that it would do her any good.

“About Mrs. James? Of course. I’d never encourage anyone’s kid to take candy from a stranger I couldn’t personally vouch for.”

“No, I…” he was flushed again and Anna realized that she’d missed a point. She was making him ask her, just like she’d said he didn’t have to.

“I meant about the help.”

“Oh, yes! Of course I meant it! I love the holidays and I’ve been working a little more than usual but I still have plenty of time.”

“Your boyfriend wouldn’t mind? I’d hate to take time away that you could be spending together around the holidays.”

“I… I don’t have a boyfriend.”

She was almost certain that there was a look of interest in his eye when she said it, but as quick as it was there, it was gone.

Maybe, she thought, she wasn’t the only one interested.

“Then I’d love the help,” he said with a nod, “For Ivy’s sake.”

***

Anna wasn’t sure she’d ever enjoyed anything so much as she did being Kristoff’s personal Christmas elf. She’d given him her mother’s family recipe for Norwegian butter cookies, an answer to Ivy's now rampant desire to learn about those traditions, and she’d picked up stocking stuffers and amazon packages and bits of this and that. She’d wrapped gifts and brought them to the fire station for safe keeping. Somehow, she’d managed to mostly do so when Kristoff was out on a call, or when he wasn’t working at all.

It was unfortunate as she wanted to see him, so she was pleasantly surprised when five days before Christmas she’d received a text message from Kristoff inviting her to help him and Ivy go tree shopping. She’d seen them at two separate decoration making events before it, so she supposed that it was only right for her to help them select the canvas on which to display Ivy’s beautiful work.

Ivy had, of course, been on a mission during the trip.

“Color, smell, and needle retention,” she’d said in her little, but very certain voice.

Anna had later learned that she didn’t actually know the meaning of the word retention, and that she’d learned her tree picking skills from a YouTube video, but she had been nevertheless impressed.

She’d helped Ivy pick, and then she’d helped, with mixed results, to strap the six-foot tree to Kristoff’s car. He’d mostly brought it inside his apartment himself, but when Anna had turned to leave, Ivy had caught her hand, and Kristoff had shyly offered her some hot chocolate. They'd sung Christmas carols, lead by Ivy and decorated the tree together with some ornaments that his friends from the firehouse had given them and the ones that Ivy had made herself. Anna wished she had her old childhood ornaments. Ivy, she knew, would have loved one.

The rest of the week passed much the same until, two days before Christmas, Anna found herself finishing her last ornament and story session with the kids before the holiday. It was a bittersweet thing, being swept up in the excitement of children looking forward to Christmas but knowing that she wouldn’t see them again for a while after.

Ivy, who had been in attendance, was busy playing with her new friends, and Kristoff, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Anna for the whole session, was speaking with her again.

Anna couldn’t help but note how quickly they were getting to know each other. She couldn’t help but blame the holiday in part. Not only was she doing more story and craft sessions in the evenings than she normally would, but she’d also been helping him make the holidays for Ivy. She supposed it was inevitable that they would talk, and in their conversations get to know each other a bit better.

The topic of conversation now, was a wrapping accident on one of Ivy’s “little” presents, a slime kit. It was from Santa, but Anna had accidentally wrapped it in the paper she’d set aside to wrap gifts from Kristoff in. The tag though, still said “from Santa”.

“So you’re sure you don’t mind,” she said quietly, low enough that they kids couldn’t hear her, “I know some kinds are just really perceptive, so I don’t want her to see that dad and santa have the same paper and realize what happened.”

“If she notices I’m just going to tell her that Santa accidentally ripped the wrapping paper coming down the chimney and had to rewrap it in some of my paper to keep it a secret until Christmas morning.”

She nodded. It was a brilliant plan.

“That’s so smart,” she was thoroughly awed, “I come up with a lot of little fibs around the holidays to keep the magic for the kiddos, but that one’s just genius.”

He laughed and shook his head, “Maybe I’m better at this than I thought.”

“You really should give yourself more credit.”

His smile softened then, “As should you. I can’t believe that you just offered to help a stranger put Christmas on for their kid and then actually followed through with it.”

“Need I remind you that you adopted a neighbor’s child without hesitation? What I did was nothing in comparison.”

He was close to her and stepping closer. She could practically feel the eyes of the moms as they lingered in the room, just to see what was going to happen. Her eyes drifted down to his lips and she felt herself flushing at the thought of kissing him, even though she told herself that they couldn’t, that it wasn’t going to happen. His previous stubble, the ball he’d had to drop to keep his daughter on schedule was now even more pronounced, but in an intentional sort of way. She could imagine how it would scratch against her.

“I wouldn’t call that nothing,” he said quiet, so low that she could barely hear it. “To us, it’s everything. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough.”

She focused for a moment on breathing as she’d realized that she’d been holding her breath ever since he leaned in. It was easy, she thought, to let him take her breath away.

And then the giggling and “goodbyes” of children broke Anna’s focus, and she turned her head to see moms giving her subtle thumbs up, and kids donning coats.

Ivy was skipping towards them, candy cane in one hand and her popsicle stick star in the other. Glitter was flaking off the craft as she bounced towards them, and Anna knew she’d be spending at least the next hour vacuuming. She almost felt bad for the parents who were about to have their houses covered in poorly glued sequins, glitter and foamies.

Almost.

“Ms. Anna!” the little girl said with great excitement, “What are you going to do for Christmas?”

The question caught Anna off guard. The kids had asked her before, but it had never felt like a big deal to tell them the truth. Kids understood more than adults most of the time, and they felt things stronger and they were more open with it, so Anna was more open with them. With Ivy and Kristoff though, just having gotten to know them, and having all sorts of confusing feelings in her chest for him, she wasn’t sure she could take the pitying eyes.

“Well hon,” she said quietly, waving to the other parents and kids as they drifted out as both a politeness and a distraction, “I’m not doing anything. My sister is my only family and she lives far far away.”

“Oh,” the little girl said, looking sad.

Anna couldn’t look at Kristoff, but she could tell he was giving his daughter the soft but chiding look he’d given her a few times in the two weeks she’d known them. The look that said he wasn’t mad at her, but that she’d said too much or her manners were lacking. She thought it was a nice way to remind kids of their behavior and had filed it away for her own use.

“Like Grandma and Grandpa.”

“Yeah,” Anna said in response, “But it’s okay, I’m used to being by myself. I’ll read a book and make myself dinner.”

She knew she didn’t sound particularly believable. She wasn’t even buying it herself. Truth be told her whole apartment was decorated for Christmas, complete with a tree, and she always made herself sad around the holidays thinking about how she’d had so much fun as a kid, but now spent them alone. She always thought that there was an unfairness in showing that to a child though, in showing them that the holiday was anything but magical for some people, so she tried to keep a stiff upper lip.

“That’s okay Ms. Anna,” the little girl said, grinning broadly at her with little tears sparkling in her dark eyes, and stepping close to grab her hand, “You can have Christmas at our house!”

She felt like crying again.

“Oh Ivy that’s so sweet,” she said, her throat feeling tight, “But it’s your family Christmas. You don’t want a stranger there.”

 “You’re not a stranger,” Kristoff said softly, reaching for Ivy’s other hand and giving it a soft squeeze that made the little girl’s smile brighten.

She seemed glad for her dad’s backup.

Anna forced herself to meet his eye, and she found in it a sort of shyness. He looked at her like he was uncertain, but also like he was excited by the prospect. She noted the twinkle in his eyes despite his furrowed brow, the gentle upturn of his lips as he looked at her for an answer.

“I don’t want to intrude…”

“You wouldn’t be. Ivy invited you as her guest. I’d… I’d also like you to come as my guest if you don’t mind. I know you’ve only known us for two weeks, but I think we’d both really like it if you came. Right sweetheart?”

Ivy squeezed Anna’s hand tightly and then nodded, bouncing a bit on her heels as she did so like her whole body was agreeing with her dad.

“Well then,” Anna said quietly, “How can I refuse?”

***

Her arms were full of presents and chocolates when she came to his door, so she had to tap the wood twice with the toe of her boot to knock. She’d been battling herself the entire drive over, trying to decide whether this was the right thing to do and whether she should really be feeling as giddy about the whole thing as she was.

She was basically crashing someone else’s holiday, and she knew that she should feel bad about taking them up on an offer made out of kindness and sympathy, but she didn’t. She didn’t feel bad because she really liked Ivy and wanted to help make Christmas a little more special for her this year. She didn’t feel bad because she really liked Kristoff and even the idea of pretending for a few hours that he felt the same made her heart flutter.

She’d never fallen for a patron before. Nor had she ever been so sure that she loved someone so quickly. She’d had bad luck in the past with similar feelings, but this time she had faith in the rightness of the feelings and the positivity of the situation. Kristoff Bjorgman was a good man, and whether anything more came from it, she was happy to be his friend and to share his Christmas.

She thought maybe if she could have written a letter to Santa though, she would have maybe wished for more. If it wasn’t too much to ask.

She hadn’t so much as put her foot down after tapping the door than Ivy opened the door and ushered her in. Kristoff was watching from just a few feet back, letting her know with a smile that Ivy had been so excited to open the door that she’d been waiting for the knock. She wondered if she’d been waiting for her since she called to let them know she was arriving.

“I waited to open my presents from Santa until you got here Ms. Anna,” the little girl said with zeal, “I wanted you to see!”

Kristoff stepped forward then, helping Anna with her parcels while telling her quietly that she hadn’t needed to bring them. He whispered into her ear about how excited Ivy had been about Santa and how she’d been even more excited to wait for Ms. Anna.

She thought that her heart might pound out of her chest. Less at the thought that Ivy had wanted to wait for her, and more at the fact that Kristoff hadn’t told her not to. That he’d just whispered in her ear, and that he was making it extremely evident that he wanted her there from the very start.

“Ivy that’s so sweet. I can’t wait to see what Santa brought you!”

“I hope I got a Pokémon stuffy!” she said excitedly, running towards the tree that they’d decorated together.

It felt strangely domestic, like she belonged there because her touch was in the tree. Like she was family, and not just a new friend they’d invited to share their holiday.

“You know what?” Anna asked, feigning ignorance, “I don’t know if he did, but I’m sure you’ve been so good this year that you deserve it.”

Kristoff raised a brow at her, and Anna got the message. “Good cover.”

In fact she knew that Ivy had two Pokémon plushies under the tree, one from Santa, one from her Dad, and Anna also knew that there was one more in the box Kristoff had taken from her labeled with the little girls name and Anna’s own.

Being an elf had its perks.

“But first… if you don’t mind, I have a couple special gifts for you two to open.”

“You really didn’t have to,” Kristoff said, giving her a soft, but appreciative look that she knew she would treasure in her memories for as long as she lived.

She knew that she didn’t have to. But they didn’t have to share their Christmas with her either.

And also, she’d already fallen in love a little bit with them both, and she knew that for now presents were a good way to demonstrate that.

“I have a special present for you too Ms. Anna!”

“You do?”

“Yes!”

She looked over at Kristoff, who looked almost as surprised as she did.

“You mean the one we got her at the store yesterday sweetheart?”

“Nope! A special one! I made it, Mrs. James told me how!”

“Huh,” he said with a shrug, “I guess I’ll be as surprised as Ms. Anna then.”

“Would you mind if I gave you yours first?” Anna asked, excited to know what Ivy had made her, but more excited to give the little girl and her father the special gifts she’d gotten them first.

“Okay!” she said excitedly and ran into the apartment proper as Kristoff and Anna managed the process of her removing her outerwear, hanging it up, and him helping her bring in the gifts and treats.

Once Ivy and Kristoff had settled themselves on the small loveseat near the tree, and Anna had brought them their gifts, she settled into the well worn high back chair that served as the only other Livingroom seating.

“Okay. I have some other presents for you guys too, but these are the most important ones, so I want you to open them first, alright?”

Ivy was already tearing into the paper on the box. Not needing to be told twice.

She held up a little soft ornament, and then held it to her chest.

“It’s Mama,” she said in the quietest littlest voice she had ever heard her manage, and Kristoff quickly looked between Anna and the ornament.

It had been easy enough really, to look up Evelyn Taylor. She had a Facebook before she passed, and some friends on the page who mostly lived out of state. There wasn’t much that Anna could find on the page without sending a friend request that she knew, sadly, would never be answered, but there were a handful of photos that she had access to. One of her and Ivy, confirming that she had the right Evelyn Taylor in the first place. The little girl had been two or so at the time the picture had been taken, but her little face had even been then, so strikingly like Kristoff’s. Evelyn even looked a bit like him she thought, like a cousin. The others she’d found included some pictures of the girl with high school friends, a few shots of her looking brave in photos where she’d moved into her apartment, a photo or two of her without hair when she’d been going through chemo.

Anna had gotten them all printed, every single one she could find, and put them in a small box that was under the ornament. The ornament had been a last-minute project. She’d run to the store and picked up printable iron on paper and felt. She printed the photo of Ivy and her mother onto it, ironed it onto the felt, and did her best to channel her mother’s creativity to make a small Scandinavian style embroidered felt plush ornament. It was shaped like a heart, and on one side she’d managed to layer on felt and little stitched snowflakes, while the other held the image on white felt.

She felt a bit bad, of course, about not asking Kristoff if it was okay first, but she thought that the soft look he was giving her may be proof that sometimes it’s better to try for the surprise.

“How…?”

“I’ll tell you later,” she said before Ivy could even get to the box below, “You still have a box to open.”

He looked between her and Ivy for a long moment, like he wanted to say something else as the little girl was excitedly hugging her little ornament, but ultimately, he looked down at his own gift.

“Go on,” she said, eager to see if her surprise gift for him would be met with such excitement.

He opened his gift with less speed, but with equal interest.

She held her breath as he pulled out a small box and a small book.

“Is this… is this a DNA test?”

She felt tension return to her body. He didn’t sound upset really, just surprised, and she hoped that she hadn’t just crossed a line.

“I mean… it’s just… you know, if you ever want to. They’re expensive usually so a lot of people don’t do them, but my sister is in business and she happened to know a guy who knew a guy so I was able to get it for you for nothing. So it’s just if you want to dig in and do some research. You know because I’m a librarian and all. One track mind.”

“Anna…”

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line, I just thought…”

“Anna.”

She looked at him and saw he was smiling, a little bit teary eyed.

“Anna, thank you. I was going to buy one after the holidays. That project Ivy did… it made me realize that I want to know where I came from.”

“Oh… good. I’m…” she sighed, letting the tension leave her, “I’m glad, because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He smiled, and then looked at the book.

“But… uh, what’s Hygge?”

She laughed at that, feeling happy in a way she hadn’t ever remembered feeling outside of work, and she saw Ivy smiling brightly too, hopping down from the couch to go grab something from under the tree.

“Hygge is a Norwegian and Danish concept… it’s just, you know, since I hope you’re Norwegian like me. Hygge is just that cozy mood that we can’t put into words. I think you feel a lot of hygge when you get a moment to breathe when you’re with Ivy, and I thought you’d like the book. There’s another one I ordered you too, but it won’t come in for a while. It’s all Norwegian fairytales. I thought you might like to read them together.”

He grinned broadly and stood from the couch, walking over to her and taking her hand, “Anna this is…”

But Ivy cut him off before he could finish.

“Ms. Anna! I have your present, are you ready?”

“Of course! I’m so excited,” she said, giving Kristoff an apologetic smile and turning her attention towards the child who was holding something behind her back.

The little girl grinned in response and held up a picture she’d drawn in crayon. There were little green leaves and little white berries. It was immediately obvious to Anna what it was meant to be, and depending on how things turned out, she was either going to ban Mrs. James from the library, or send her a fruit basket.

“Is that?” Kristoff started.

“Mistletoe.” Anna finished.

She felt her face go hot, but then when she looked over at Kristoff, his hand still in hers, she saw him clearly doing some internal negotiating.

“May I… may we?” He asked.

“It is a tradition,” she said quietly, looking over at the little girl and giving her a bright, if not a bit embarrassed smile to let her know that she did in fact, love the drawing.

And before she could say anything else he was helping her off the chair and into his arms. She giggled when he kissed her, his stubble, now an almost beard tickling her skin.

Ivy, ever the encouraging an delighted audience, was jumping up and down.

“Santa must have gotten the letter I hid under the cookie plate last night!” she said delighted, “I knew Daddy liked Ms. Anna!”

Kristoff, ended the kiss a bit abruptly to look over to his daughter, a deep blush on his cheeks that Anna was sure was mirrored in her own.

He didn’t release her though, still holding her close, his touch tender but firm.

“Santa didn’t get a letter under the cookie plate last night,” he whispered low into Anna’s ear as Ivy took back off toward the tree, leaving her drawing on Anna’s chair.

Anna couldn’t help but giggle at his bewilderment. She thought that it was most likely that Ivy had simply dreamed writing the letter. Some kids her age had a hard time remembering what they had and hadn’t done when they woke in the morning.

“Well either the big man is more real than we thought, or Mrs. James has more connections than I thought. Or you know, she just dreamt the whole thing.”

He grinned broadly.

“Well someone must have gotten my letter too,” he said, a little louder, “Because Ivy is right. I do like you. I know it’s fast but…”

“I like you too Kristoff,” she said quietly, “And we can take this slower from here, but for now…”

He leaned in again, kissing her gently. She let her hand slide up, her palm cradling his stubbled cheek.

When they broke the kiss, they rested their foreheads together, the sound of tearing paper and Ivy’s excited cheering behind them.

“Merry Christmas Kristoff.”

“Merry Christmas Anna.”

She’d never been so grateful for a reference desk query in her life.

[gremlin-gr4pes]

Analogical request- Logan lives on the other side of the country from Virgil, and Virgil has been struggling so Logan sends a “you can do this” card and a teddy bear with a tie on it to help Virgil get through what he’s going through. 💜💜💜

Analogical request by @hedgiehoggles

Before we start. Let's clarify. This is an Analogical one shot that has been requested with a prompt ask. I do not own these characters and I may draw some artwork to go with it if I ever get the inspiration.

(PS. This will take place in 3rd person)

Word count: 7, 835 (woah 0-0)

Tw: Anxiety attack, crying, hurt-comfort, fluff. Please tell me if I've missed anything.

Au: Human

•-------------------------------------------------•

It had been rough. This whole week, A bombardment of assignments. Deadlines that he just could not meet. Not to mention he didn't understand what the current question he was stuck on. The words didn't make sense to him, not to mention the whole subject confused him. English. Well not the subject excactly, it was their current topic that confused him the most. Most of the text was in Latin and poor Virgil had his download of the translation crash and delete. Which stressed him out even more. He needed that translation if he didn't want to fail this course.

He had been trying to save that download for over an hour now and he just couldn't. He couldn't take it anymore.

A wet substance fell onto his keyboard alerting Virgil that he was now crying. Which in return made him realise how stressed this entire ordeal had made him as he now noticed his hands trembling over the keys of his laptop. The hitched sound as he inhaled and exhaled in short shakey breaths. His thoughts spiraling as the dreaded feeling began to settle in.

Virgil moved his laptop away as he shut the damned thing, it was unbearable to look at anymore. Bringing his knees to his chest, the teen buried his head inside as he hugged them tightly. His breathing quick and sharp. He knew what his boyfriend would say. What he would do.

Logan loved Virgil and Virgil loved Logan. The only thing in the way was the long distance between their states. Logan lived in Ohio as Virgil lived in Florida. It was an unbearable fact that they had to deal with. Hopefully college would be better.

Though, even the thoughts of his loved one surrounded him, it didn't cease his crying, nor his trembling. Virgil raised his head, reaching for his phone, decorated with a plain black case with a bunch of band stickers stuck on.

With blurred vision he tried his best to get onto the chat with Logan.

Virge💜:

Hey,.

Lo✨💙:

Hello, Darling. Is something the matter?

Virgil let out a small laugh. He always knew if something was wrong.

Virge💜:

can ee call??

Immediately the phone lit up, asking to accept or decline. Virgil didn't even care if Logan chose a voice call or video call, he immediately answered and was met with Logan settling his phone down on his desk. A concerned look loomed over his usual stoic face.

"Virgil? Darling, what's the matter?" was what the latter heard immediately. Sending a wave of hot tears down his face just by the sound of his voice.

"I.. I-" Virgil's voice hitched and stuttered as he tried to answer the question.

"okay, I understand. I'm here, just listen to me, okay?" Logan said over the phone. His voice laced with concern for his boyfriend. "You don't need to tell me what happened until you're ready. Whatever it is I love you, and I always will. Don't ever forget that, now.. Please follow my lead" Logan added, Virgil nodded when needed.

"deep breath in 1, 2, 3 and 4" Virgil did excactly that as Logan firmly counted to a pace he could handle. "now hold.. 1, 2, 3, 4" virgil held his breath, a hand over his mouth to help the process "6, 7.. Virgil, exhale, 1, 2, 3, 4.." Virgil's breath was a struggle to control but he managed.

The pair continued the breathing exercise until Virgil's breath had regulated. The trembling was long gone and the thoughts had faded, tears were now a dry trail of salt down his face. "Lo... Thank you" his voice was weak and tired after the anxiety attack but endearing at the same time.

"Virgil, don't worry about it. I'd be there in a heartbeat if it weren't for the hellish journey to Florida" the pair laughed gently, though the statement was all but false. The journey would be a long one and by the time Logan got to his house it would be the end of the day.. Or the next day.

The couple talked and laughed all through the night before they decided it be best to go to sleep. That night, Virgil felt much better than what that evening had brought him prior to that phone call.

•----Timeskip because I said so----•

Virgil was sat in the living room. A rare sight but his parents were out shopping at that very and was told to stay downstairs as the washing was currently on. He was minding his business, the TV set on YouTube with music blaring at a level that drowned out his neighbors clatter and their children's screaming. Whilst he, himself, was scrolling through tumblr, his safe haven.

That was until he heard a knock on the door. Virgil looked out of the window due to curiosity, keeping the curtains moderately closed as he took a peek to see who it was.... A mailman?

Confused, Virgil stood from his perched spot and headed to the front door, undoing the hatch and opening the door. "Package for uhm-" the mailman checked the name "-Virgil Storm?"

"oh.. Uhm.. Yeah, that's me.." he stammered, more confused on why he had a package.

"okay, here" the mailman handed him the box and started walking away. Perplexed, Virgil stood there for a moment before shutting the door once more and setting down on the couch once more.

Virgil stared at the box in his perched seat, wondering what on earth could be inside. Carefully he rattled the box, it was pretty light and whatever was making the quiet thud inside wasn't that bit either. Maybe packing peanuts were silencing it?

He let out a huff before finally ripping the tape off (with his teeth, naturally. What else is he gonna do? Get a box cutter? No). Once the tape was off he opened the box. Instantly met with the eyes of a medium sized brown bear and a blue stripy tie. Virgil's eyes lit up by the sight as he went to grab it, he was greeted with the overly soft sensation of fur.

Bringing the bear close to his chest he peered into the package once more, finding a card letter. He picked it up. The card was a lilac and with a slight sent of peppermint. That's when he remembered what Logan had told him one day. That he had hand lotion that was peppermint scented, what he had said 'one of my favourite fragrances'. A simple little memory that brought a smile to his face as he realised who had sent this sudden gift his way.

Virgil turned to card and began to read what was written upon the card.

"You can do this..

No matter what the world may bring. Believe in me. Know that I will always be there for you. I may live far but I assure you, I will answer your calls within a heartbeat. (And if not, you may scold me.)

If you may ever require a reminder, please refer to the sophisticated bear.

He will comfort you when I cannot.

Love

- Logan ❤"

Virgil stared down at the card, a smile plastered upon his face. He looked up, glances around before spitting his phone, instantly picking it up and going to the chat that belonged to solely him and his boyfriend.

Virge💜:

Hey Lo!

Lo, heyhey!

Hello!

Hi,,?

You online?

Can I scold you?

Lo✨💙:

Scold me?

Virge💜:

Yeah,, you are the one that sent this bear.. Right?

Lo✨💙:

Yes, of course. I merely forgot I added that.

But, please don't my messages a slightly delayed.

Virge💜:

Suuuure~

Lo✨💙:

Well, I believe you contacted me regarding the gift I sent your way.

Do you like it?

Virge💜:

Of course I do,, it's perfect

Thank you,,

Lo✨💙:

I'm glad you like it. I meant every word.

Even the scolding part.

Virge💜:

Srsly? XD

Welp, I'll be abusing that factor.

Don't leave me alone too long XD

Lo✨💙:

Of course.

Virge💜:

Wanna call?

Logan smiled on his side before pressing the video call button. The call immediately being accepted on the other side. The couple talked for as long as they could until Virgil's parents came home. The break between that call and the next wasn't long as Virgil wasn't needed for that long.

It's safe to say, Virgil loves the bear. Ensuring it's always in the bed when he sleeps. In his arms when he starts to panic or simply when he's thinking of the one he loves.

Tag list:

@fire-and-ash67 @im-actually-ok @wintersandsunshine @bee-mouth-owam

Ask to be added or taken off, please.

[twistedlymad]

7. “Just Trust Me” (Leona Kingscholar x Reader)

@cloud9anxiety​ Hewwo there! Thank you for participating in my 500 follower special! To be honest, I already his this story planned out last week and I only wrote it lately QwQ Anyways, I hope you enjoy this little story and I hope you have a lovely day!

At Night Raven College, students from all over Twisted Wonderland focus on learning and strengthening their magic. They are also sorted into dormitories based on their magic by the Mirror of Darkness. With the dormitories, there would be dorm leaders and vice dorm leaders. Specific tasks are handed to Dorm Leaders, such as taking care and looking after their members.

So, as a dorm leader, prefect and student at Night Raven College, it’s safe to say that pressure is piling up on your shoulders. You didn’t think much of it at first, after all, you already saw it coming. To take care of a dorm, to take care of a dumb furball, to take care of 5 other dumb friends, your work seemed endless! And I haven’t even mentioned the homework and assignments given to you by the teachers.

This in turn, made you stressed. You couldn’t afford to miss any homework as you are a dorm leader after all. Grim couldn’t really help out much on the homework so you decided to take it upon yourself to save yours and Grim’s failing grades.

It didn’t help when your friends kept getting into petty arguments here and there, one second Ace and Deuce might be bickering something about their dorm leader, the next they might be readying their magical pens and fists, only to be stopped by you. Epel wasn’t any better either, nor was Sebek. The only other person you could rely on stopping the other 4 first-years was Jack, but even he sometimes couldn’t do much, yet you appreciated his efforts a lot.

Grim, oh, where do I start? The furball doesn’t help with homework, either because he won’t or he can’t, unless you threaten his supply of tuna. He is the main reason for about 80% of your friends’ arguments, let It be him stealing Ace’s lunch or him snickering at Epel whenever the Pomefiore first-year wants to focus on getting buff training his muscles. He is also the cause of you getting into trouble with a few professors because he always fell asleep in class, since you are his caretaker.

You knew your stress levels were rising every single day, but you payed no attention to it. You were completely focused and immersed in your own duties and you always pushed away the signals of danger sent from your mind.

After a week or so, your mental health couldn’t take it anymore. You started to wake up in the middle of every night, unable to fall back asleep. You began to get more tired after a few sleepless nights. You looked less energetic, you didn’t speak much and if you do speak, your words come out all jumbled. Your friends noticed this and asked you about it, but you just shrugged them off, saying that it wasn’t anything of their concern. They didn’t want to pester you on it so they dropped the topic as well.

One day, you just couldn’t take it anymore as your eyelids were drooping in the middle of Professor Trein’s class. You were finally falling asleep! Dreamland was so close, if you could… just… reach i-

“(Y/N)!! That’s a very bad example!” A loud voice called you and you immediately snapped awake. You looked around to see your classmates and one fuming professor looking at you, only then you remembered that you were in class.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You apologized to the professor.

“I expect better actions and manners than that from a dorm leader. Go wash up your face (Y/N) and don’t let it happen again.” Professor Trein said to you. You nodded and excused yourself from the classroom.

On your way to the bathroom to wash up your face, you had to go through the Botanical Gardens as it was the shortest and quickest route there. As you walked, you grumbled and mumbled under your breath, complaining about everything that made you sleepless. After all, we couldn’t blame you, you were beyond tired and these sleepless nights weren’t helping either.

“I didn’t ask to be a dorm leader in the first place.” You grumbled as you walked. “Everything about it is just stupid.” You continued, thinking that only you yourself could hear your own words and mumblings.

Oh, how wrong you were. You see, there was another person in the garden with good hearing.

“Hey, Herbivore, you’re pretty loud when you grumble you know?” A voice spoke up, startling you. You looked to the source of the sound only to find a sleeping Leona with his back facing you.

“L-Leona-senpai?” You asked. “Don’t you have class right now?” You questioned the lion, stepping closer to him.

“I could be asking you the same thing.” He peered over his shoulder to look at you. You sighed and took a seat beside him.

“I… Accidentally fell asleep in Professor Trein’s class earlier today.” You said, your head lowered and looking at the ground. “He caught me being a bad example as a dorm leader and told me to go wash up.”

This seemed odd to Leona. One, he knew you were the type of person who upheld proper manners and etiquette almost all the time. Two, he knew you wouldn’t dare to break any rules, let alone fall asleep in class. Three, you sounded depressed and tired compared to your usual self.

So, he figured that something was wrong with you.

“That’s it?” Leona asked you. You immediately looked up from the ground to meet with his gaze. It was as if he was studying you, but you shook it off.

“Well, I haven’t been sleeping well lately, I keep waking up at midnight these past few days.” You explained to Leona, but secretly, you figured that he wouldn’t help you, after all, what can he obtain for helping you?

Not to your surprise, you were greeted with silence. You let out a small sigh.

“Well, I knew you wouldn’t help anyways, sorry for wasting your time.” You said, standing up and getting ready to leave when all of a sudden you felt a grip on your hand. You let out a small yelp and closed your eyes as you were pulled back to the dorm leader of Savanaclaw. When you reopened your eyes, you realize that you were facing Leona’s chest.

“Sleep, herbivore.” The lion grumbled lowly, making you blush slightly at his deep voice. You let out a small scoff as you thought the upperclassman was making fun of your troubles.

“Har har, very funny, I know you’re making fun of me so let me go.” You said, trying to push yourself away from the lion’s grip but to no avail.

“Just trust me.” The lion said as he tightened his grip around you, pulling you closer to his chest.

“But, I…” You started, looking up only to find that the lion had fell asleep, leaving only you awake. You couldn’t really move around since his grip on you was fairly tight. You had no choice but to lay there, your ears listening to his heartbeat.

His… Heartbeat, so steady, so soothing and pleasing to your mind. Each beat had its own effect on you, making you sleepier as they go by. You couldn’t help but slowly droop your eyelids, letting them fall.

Alas, after so many sleepless nights, you finally fell asleep, drifting off into dreamland without a care.

Leona had peeked open an eye to check up on you. He saw the peaceful look you had on your face, the gentle rise and falls of your chest and your closed eyelids. Smirking lightly to himself, he gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead, before embracing you once again, your body close to his and going back to sleep with his head on top of yours.

“Told ya, herbivore.”

[brittledame]

Pairing: Shirabu Kenjirou/Reader

Warnings: Explicit, Cursing, Hair-pulling, Name-Calling, Hate Sex, Spanking, Slight degradation, Panty stealing, Table sex

Word Count: 7.6K

Summary: A school project brings together two academic rivals, where their dislike for one another reaches a whole new level. You and Shirabu constantly duke it out for the top grade, where it becomes an everyday occurrence to see the two scowling at and insulting one another. The tension between you two finally reaches a boiling point one afternoon when an argument breaks out.

Series: Part 1 of 3 (Part 2 & Part 3)

Shiratorizawa was a private school full to the brim of prestige and practically screams ‘money’. Inside of the sleek modern exterior, each extracurricular club ranging from calligraphy to kyūdō possessed state-of-the-art facilities. Basically, you name it and there was most likely already a club for it, with each one allocated a ridiculous amount of funding. It did help that a lot of old and new money sent their kids to the school, which unfortunately leads to uppity pricks with uptight attitudes flaunting their wealth at the drop of a hat festering the hallways.

One such uppity prick went by the name of Shirabu Kenjirou and he was the bane of your existence. He came from an affluent background, old money resulting from smart trades in property stock way back before the global telecommunications were even conceptualised. You could smell the money oozing from his pores in the form of some ridiculously over-priced Giorgio Armani cologne, topped off with his neatly pressed uniform and copper-toned hair perfectly sleek.

The part that pissed you off the most about the male, and has led to your open dislike for the asshole, was the fact that he got into Shiratorizawa solely by his phenomenal grades, never once relying on daddy’s money to get in, like most of your cohort. Meanwhile, you made every single second count when studying, not a moment wasted between school and sleep, just to hope to qualify for the academic scholarship. For a while your parents fretted that you were studying too much just to pass some school’s entrance exams, where their platitudes of ‘you’re already plenty intelligent enough, honey’ and ‘you could ace it this very moment’ weren’t enough to soothe your stressed mind.

Not even three months later, you sat the exam and low and behold, you did ace it, much to your amazement. It was a beautiful moment, witnessing your name on their admittance board not even a month later, tears of relief gathering in your eyes. The only thing that ruined your moment was the name that ranked just above yours, taking in first place: Shirabu Kenjirou. So, your well-known rivalry with the copper-tinged blonde asshole started one-sided and quickly evolved into something much greater than you could’ve ever imagined.

For both your first and second year, you shared the same class as Shirabu. It was to be expected since you were both in the same grade average bracket, but still a girl could dream, right? Much to your ever-growing annoyance you were placed in the same third year class as well. Evidently you were unable to escape his prickly attitude.

Every task, assignment and exam became a silent challenge between the two of you. Each and every time, you’d throw yourself into your studies just to wipe the smug look he gives you every time he pulls through with the top mark.

The worst part of all this was the fact that he consistently pulled high marks while balancing a sport on top of his studies. You’d have to give it to him, you honestly don’t know when he manages to fit in eating and sleeping in that hectic schedule of his.

Now to place two head-strong individuals together was just begging for trouble, especially when your little competition has reached infamy around the sprawling campus. Turn out trouble is exactly what your science teacher was looking for when she placed the two of you together for the physic unit’s partner research report about their topic of choice. You looked at her like she’d lost her goddamn mind, not sparing the equally shocked Shirabu a glance. You didn’t even bother to argue with her, knowing it would’ve ended up worse somehow if you did.

“Fuck.” You muttered, hoping four the next six weeks to pass quickly

As soon as the Ms. Nakamura dismissed the class, you marched over to his desk. Stopping directly in front of him, you perched your hands on your hips and gave him a disdainful look.

“Look, for the course of this project I am willing to be civil with you.” You place a genial hand over your chest to complete your saintly sacrifice. Looking up, Shirabu gives you a blank look, before returning to annotating his textbook with bright sticky notes.

‘What a fucking dick,’ You silently seethe.

“Whatever. Just pick a topic and I’ll start on it.” His monotone voice serves to piss you off more. You curl your hands into tight fists, resisting the glorious thought of punching his pretty face.

“Um, I think not. We’ll pick the topic out together and we’ll equally distribute the work. I don’t want to hear you bitching to your hot teammates that I’m slacking.”

Grabbing a vacant chair near his desk, you spin it around and sit on it backwards, ignoring his disgruntled look. Tapping on your phone, you open a new contact and start filling it out.

“What’s your number, dickhead?” Shirabu’s head shot up at the insult and you grin at him, shaking your phone in front of his face.

“None of your fucking business, bitch.” He bites out, forehead creasing as he glares at you, completing his signature expression.

“Well, asshole, if you somehow managed to forget already, let me remind you. We need to collaborate on this and to do that, we need a line of communication. Texting is the easiest option.” You reason. You weren’t fond of the idea of Shirabu having your number either, the ass will probably write it in the boy’s changeroom as retribution for some misdeed you’ve done.

Deliberating, Shirabu’s pen stops its furious scribbling. Heaving a great sigh, he concludes that unfortunately you were correct, but that didn’t mean he had to explicitly admit that.

Snatching your phone, he ignores your indignant shout as he taps out his phone number and tosses the phone back at you.

“Great, thanks for being a team player, sport.” You say, as you clean the screen off on the bottom of your uniform top.

As you get up and return the chair to its correct place, you trudge over to your desk whilst starting to conjuring up some topic ideas to suggest.

Peeking from under his uneven fringe, Shirabu watches your skirt sway as you walk. He loves it whenever you walk away from him, leaving him to both think in peace and admire the way your hypnotising hips move as you walk. The short purple plaid Shiratorizawa skirt left little to his imagination whenever you bent over, or a strong breeze came through. Shirabu briefly wondered how the hell you evaded the school’s disciplinary committee’s strict uniform coding monitors in the hallway because he’s sure that you’re breaking at least two of them on any given day.

The next day, you texted Shirabu the list of thesis concepts you wrote up. You were surprised when your phone vibrated in your hand, delivering his speedy reply.

Shithead: Sure.

What the fuck were you meant to do with that dry ass reply?

Now angry that he wasn’t taking you seriously, you texted him back to pick a god damn topic before you went over to his practice and caused a scene. And just like that he stopped being obstinate and picked the one you were secretly hoping he would choose; it was the one focusing on Einstein’s thought experiments how his process was adapted into modern-day quantum research.

After a few back and forth texts by that afternoon you had both scheduled a few meetups over the next few weeks for the more challenging components, such as devising a solid thesis and finding some credible academic papers to back-up your statements.

A week later found you waiting in the library, going through your homework as you wait for Shirabu’s team practice to end, hoping to make good use of some of your free time.

By the time Shirabu swept into the room, you had already gotten a good head start in the assignment. Dressed in his neatly pressed uniform and not a hair out of place, you almost suspected that he made up the excuse of volleyball practice to get out of spending anymore time than necessary with you. The asshole breezes past you, not even offering an apology or reason as to why he was late, but you could at least deduct that practice was at fault – that is if he even went.

“Well since you decided to keep me waiting for –“ You glance down at your phone, “forty-five minutes, I already started it. I’ve written both the study’s aim and objective and began devising the outline for what needs to be addressed in the introduction.” You say shortly, not waiting for him to seat himself and set up before you push your laptop across the desk and into his personal space.

Shirabu rolls his eyes at your accusing tone and started to read what you’ve written up in the shared word document. Kenjirou was mildly impressed at how much you accomplished in such a short amount of time, but he tried not to show that outwardly though, afraid your already inflated ego would grow. Grunting in agreement, Shirabu slid the laptop back over to you.

“That’s fine. I’ll start pulling some sources for the statements you outlined and start writing them up. Why don’t you start researching any recent projects detailing new discoveries and start collecting data to include?”

That last part was less of a question and more of a demand, but his usual flat tone made it hard to distinguish between the two. The lack of inflection in his voice could just about put anyone to sleep, and after sitting here for almost an hour in the calming atmosphere of the library, you were ready to start dozing off.

A sharp kick to your shin ripped you out of your thoughts, causing to to yelp and rub at the sore spot. A quick look at Shirabu’s smug face illuminated by his screen was enough to rid the last of your daze, begrudgingly returning to your work.

Two hours had passed, filled by the tap-tapping abuse of your keyboards and the occasional groan released by you at another paywall obstructing an article containing some nice data. Other than that, Shirabu was a quiet as a graveyard. You’d assume he had spontaneously passed away if not for the typing and blinking, the fucker didn’t even look like he was breathing.

What a completely boring guy with a nasty attitude. The most interesting thing about him was his unfortunate fringe, looking like he got mugged in an alleyway by a guy with no fine motor skills wielding a pair of scissors.

Plainly coloured hair, irises almost an identical shade of almost blonde but not quite there. He was of average stature, maybe a little below for the volleyball team. He was completely normal, nothing you would normally give a second glance while passing by, and yet…

You mentally shake away the unwanted thoughts conjured by the sight of his hands, or the slight flexing of his arm under the thin fabric of the uniform shirt.

Dirty little fantasies of Shirabu just snapping one day after one too many insults, throwing you over his lap and just going to town on your ass with the same hand that scored so many serving points for the elite team filled your head incessantly. The force would jostle you forward, tears in your eyes as you beg him – for what you don’t know, but you would beg and he’d wrap his strong hand around your throat, the threat of cutting off your blood flow to your brain was enough to stop your breathless begs.

Wrapped up in your raunchy thoughts, your typing ceases and your eyebrows furrow as you’re faced with the horrible realisation that you actually have feelings other than hate for the up-tight prick. The feelings were far from romantic, more likely resting somewhere between hate and dislike, but it was still the principle of the matter. Acknowledging those feelings alone felt like you ceded your part in a game that you two had unofficially started.

Fuck.

The next few weeks were going to be hell. You internally groaned at the thought.

You had no idea just how right you were, as the next few Friday sessions were almost unbearable for you since that day. After that dreadful meet up, one could slice the tension that brewed between the two of you with their bare hand, even though it was solely emanating from you.

As most horrific diseases start, it was all innocuous at the beginning. The session all started the same: witty quips and digging barbs swapped at the beginning of your sessions before silently coming to the unanimous agreement to not speak another word to one another unless it was absolutely necessary. Even then, you could feel the migraine pulsating threateningly behind your eyes at how effortlessly hot he was. The headache was quite literally the physical manifestation of the vexation you felt towards the irritating copper-haired male.

It turned out that your exasperation was mutual, Kenjirou thought if he had to sit through another session with your loud breathing or deafening clacking of your keyboard, he was going to start ripping out hair. He was at his wit’s end and he had no reason as to why you set him off so easily. Not even the over-exuberant Goshiki could elicit such a nasty comment so quickly from him, even on his worst days.

The tension mounting between you two from previous sessions hung heavy in the air, but neither of you were willing to acknowledge the elephant stampeding through the small and rarely used study room.

The irritating sound of your long, trimmed nails typing, no more like smashing, on your keyboard cut through the tension. It was enough to put Kenjirou on edge faster than any other assignment meet up. He’s had a hell of a week and while he didn’t have grueling practice today, spending it alone with you was the cherry on top.

Usually the silent and calming ambiance of the library never failed to soothe him when he’s tense and anxious, but his irritation was hitting a whole new level he’s never experienced before.

“I swear if you keep smashing at your keyboard like that, I’ll rip them off and shove them up your ass.” He seethes, hands curling into fists where they rested on the table.

Looking up, you give him an incredulous look before opening your mouth. God what Shirabu wouldn’t give to get that stupid mouth of yours to not ever open again. He’d be saving the world from one less idiot spreading their stupidity.

“That’s kinky Shirabu. This is a library, keep it in your pants and save it for the bedroom.” You tease, fluttering your long eyelashes at him paired with a plastic grin.

At the murderous look his gives you, you throw back your head and laugh quietly. You weren’t willing to face the librarian’s wrath if you broke the rules, even if you were situated on the deserted top floor in a room furthest from her station at the entrance.

Conversation stalls from there on out, with only the clacking of your keyboard’s once again filling the air, although you do take greater care when typing now, not that the asshole thanked you for your consideration.

Kenjirou watches you from his periphery as you brush your glossy hair over you your shoulder, ponytail bouncing with added weight. That stupid ass hair style that made Kenjirou want to reach over and yank –

“I know you lost a couple of brain cells playing volleyball but come on, are you really that slow?” You raised your eyebrow at him, glancing at the unfinished excel charts Kenjirou had elected to do.

Giving you an unimpressed look, he chooses not to bite, thinking he’s already wasted enough time acknowledging your existence. Kenjirou hadn’t even noticed you talking to him, he was just that used to tuning you out and hearing your annoying voice as background noise.

“Can you add a trendline to the data, so that the upward trend we mention in the discussion is clearly evident in the chart?” You carefully enunciate each word to him.

Your demeaning tone and slow talking really pissed Shirabu off this time, he clenches his jaw and expels an exasperated breath through his nose.

“I’d appreciate it if you don't address me like that ever again. A trendline on the data we collected is pointless, just a pretty line. If we generated the data ourselves, then maybe, but the studies these numbers are sourced off of don’t even have trendlines.” His reasoning is rock-solid, but he was a prick about it, so you rolled your eyes and moved on to the next section of the paper that needed sorting.

“Fine, I acquiesce. A trendline here would be rather inappropriate.” He scoffs at your formal language. This was coming from the same girl that he heard on many occasions say obscenities so vulgar it’d make a seasoned soldier blush.

Tense silence fills the void between you both. You brushed of the strange sensation of being on edge. It is true that Shirabu seems even more pissy than usual, but you’ve been dealing with his shit for weeks now, you could put up with two more sessions with the unbearable prick. Hopefully.

Focusing back on the shared document open before you, you stare blankly as you try to decipher his nonsense tables. Concerned, you quickly scroll through the rest of the discussion he had begrudgingly volunteered to complete. To your absolute horror, you noticed that your format of your portion of the discussion was utterly incongruous with his formatting.

Well shit.

While grammar mistakes and sentence structure could be tweaked and fixed within a day’s work, it would take you both at least a good day's to make the report’s content flow freely and have a singular format. Thankfully, you guys have the time to fix up his – and maybe some of your – mistakes.

“Could you not?” You say shortly, tacking on a sharp glare aimed at the bane of your existence.

“Could I not what? Use your big girl words.” He bites back, not even trying to hide his annoyance with you anymore.

“Could you please stop fucking up our assignment. I don’t know about you, daddy’s money, but I’d really like to get full marks for this.” You shoot back, angry that he had the gall to be annoyed at you when he was the one fucking up the format of the assignment.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m doing everything that we outlined in our past sessions.” Kenjirou fumed. He swears to fucking god, if he has to argue with you over the (lack of) importance of a trend line for this data set again he’s going to scream.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you miss the way his eyes quickly flit down. Kenjirou hates himself for the way his dick twitched at the sight of you inadvertently pressing your breasts together. Licking his lips, he allows you to stew over his words and watches as you reluctantly accept his logic.

It was true, you guys didn’t really decide on a true format in the initial planning phases, it seemed like a far-off issue to worry about at that moment. Well the future is now and that issue was just going to compound by the day if it didn’t get sorted out soon. It didn’t help that you hated editing papers with a passion.

At your silence, he rolled his eyes so hard you were scared they may get stuck – although he deserves at least that much for all the shit he’s given you over the past three years. He turned back to his work and went back to ignoring you.

Oh well, two can play at that game. You didn’t want, nor need, to talk to the prick anyway.

Shifting your restless legs under the table, you accidentally kick Shirabu in the shin, earning you a dirty look. Enjoying the ugly look of his face, you give him a sickly-sweet smile.

“Oops, my bad, Shirabu. I’ll sure to be more cautious next time!” Topping off your act with some obnoxious batting of your eyelashes.

“Do it again and I’ll wipe that look off your face real fast.” He sneered back at you.

Ignoring all common sense, you played with the idea of what exactly he meant by his threat. Most likely nothing sexual and most definitely involving a punch. But that doesn’t stop you from briefly entertaining a short sexual fantasy involving the two of you fucking in his chair.

Damn, these thoughts have been getting more frequent and out-of-hand recently. If they became anymore of an issue, you may just have to see the on-campus therapist about your obvious undiagnosed nymphomania.

True to your nature, you decide to grab the metaphorical bull by the horn to see how hard he bucks. Adjusting your posture again, you lean your elbows on the table as you uncross your legs and again hit his leg stretched out under the table.

You could practically hear Shirabu’s restraint snap, a dark expression taking over his face. He jerks up and out of his chair and proceeds stalks towards you, a dangerous glint in his ochre eyes.

‘Oh shit, I might have actually overdone it this time. He’s going to fucking kill me.’ You were frozen in place, not even breathing as he towers over your seated form. You mentally said your goodbye’s to family and friends. They wouldn’t be shocked to find out that you met your end due to pure pettiness.

You were expecting at least a slap, maybe even a gut punch, so when he grabbed your arms and hoisted you onto your feet, you assumed the absolute worst. Unexpectedly, he backed your body against the table, his hips pinning yours against the hard edge, making it dig harshly into your back.

You gasp as a calloused hand grabs the back of your exposed neck, the other moving to your waist. He pulls himself incredibly close to you. You're sure there isn’t an atom of space left between the two of you now, feeling every inch of his body pressed up against yours.

He bends down and breathes softly into your ear words that set off a blaze within you.

“I warned you not to try me today and yet you kept on pushing me.” His low tone sent shivers down your spine.

Hands flat on the table, you shove yourself up against his hard chest even more, meeting his dark expression head-on.

“I figured you were all bark and no bite, so what’s the harm?” Ignoring the sharp edge of his previous words, you kept making digs at him. You already made peace with the fact that you may die at the hands of the unfairly attractive man before you.

Snapping, Shirabu grabs you by your tie, pulling you upwards and meeting your lips in a fierce kiss. It honestly was more teeth than lips, but you’d take whatever he would give you. Lust quickly replaced shock as you reciprocated the kiss, giving back as much as he gave you.

Never one to be one-upped, you both furiously made out against the table. Eventually you reluctantly conceded to him, pulling away gasping for breath to fill your aching lungs. While he didn't look as effected as you, he still panted as he caught his breath.

Lips kiss-swollen from the hard kiss he gave you, he gulped at the mussed up look of your uniform from the short make-out session. The sight alone was enough to spur him back into action. You met his lips half-way, hands flying up to bury themselves into surprisingly soft hair.

The kiss was more than just that, it was a battle of wills. It was another challenge set before you both, another one added to the extensive list of trials. It tested who had the guts to resolve the unresolved sexual tension building between you both.

Fingers digging into your soft flesh, he easily hoisted you up onto the table, slotting himself between the space made between your open legs. The kiss picks up intensity as he throws in a few nips at your bottom lip, while you lightly bite at his tongue invading your mouth.

You gasp at a particularly harsh bite at your bottom lip, drawing back to give the self-satisified male a scowl.

“Oh? Is this the reason why you’ve always been so short with me. It’s cute that you don’t know how to act around your crush.” Your teasing words make the male between your legs tense up.

“I’d rather bite off my own tongue than date you, bitch.” He goes to kiss you again. It was the only thing that got you to shut up, which he very enjoyed.

“Who said anything about dating, dearest? My, my, so you have been thinking of me.” You laughed and gave him a belittling look.

“The only thoughts I’ve had about you involve either shutting you up or fucking you senseless, so make of that what you will.” He grits out between clenched teeth, not willing to give you that inch he threw out to you like a lifeline.

If he was going to go through with this, he at least wanted you to know exactly what he wanted to get out of it. Nothing more, nothing less.

You consider him under hooded eyelids, gaze sweeping up and down his clothed torso. Well at least he wanted the same thing that’s been haunting your waking thoughts for the past month. You weren’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth that's for sure.

“Sure, I mean you could try, but I doubt that you could even a moan out of me.” You said languidly, setting up another challenge. Now all he had to do was pick up the gauntlet.

Words igniting a fire within him, his lips tipped into a lopsided smirk. You had no idea what you just started and he was more than happy to show you the consequences of your bold actions.

“Oh, I assure you, I’m not going to stop until I hear you screaming.”

The room you occupied was situated on the top floor, at the end of a long corridor of empty study rooms exactly like this one. It was highly unlikely that the elderly librarian at the entrance would hear what was about to go down. It was also unlikely any snooping students would come across your study room on the neglected floor.

You fully expected him to pull you into another bruising kiss before fucking you but it seemed that the stupidly hot bastard was just full of surprises today. Instead, he pulled you off the table and turned you to face the chair he had previously occupied. With the hand placed at the nape of your neck, the other moving to your opposite side of your waist, he pushed you down to lie against the cold tabletop. Though definitely not for your benefit, he pushed aside any stray bits of paper out of your way to prevent them from creasing.

You gasp as the pressure he applies onto you forces the breath out of your lungs, pressing you hard against the unforgiving surface. Hands scrabbling for a purchase to help you establish a counter force to push up against him, he bends down and breathes softly into your ear.

“Look at you so pliant for me, I could get used to this.” His smug tone made your blood boil. That bastard was going to milk this situation for all it has and you have no ground to stand on to refute him when you were planning on doing the exact same.

“You know, your nasty attitude destroys that pretty boy stereotype you have going on.” You retort. You weren’t going to take his bullshit laying down – metaphorically speaking.

Fed up with you running your mouth, always talking but never saying anything of substance, he hastily loosens his tie. Without warning, he shoves a bundle of fabric into your mouth, quickly moving his fingers away from teeth that would gladly bite down onto his precious setting tools.

Trying to voice your anger, you squirm in his grasp with muffled nonsensical words leaving your mouth.

Kenjirou marvels at the sight of your stuffed mouth, words finally muted and wide eyes that were angry at his action. If he knew this is all he had to do to get you to shut up for more than two seconds then he’d gladly do it again.

Kenjirou couldn’t help but wonder if your cheeks would also look like that if he’s shoved his dick between your plush pink lips but he saves that thought for another day. After all, he had at least half a year left to put up with your bullshit.

Pressing his hips against your ass, he revels at the feeling of finally having you under him, squirming and all. Deciding not to draw this out anymore than he already has, he smoothly grinds his slowly growing erection into the cleft of your ass obscured by ugly purple plaid.

Unsatisfied with the lack of friction, he flips up your skirt to reveal lacy panties. He thought it was a bit risqué to wear them at school but who was he to complain about the lovely gift.

You gave a muffled shout when he snapped against the waist band against your hip. Tempted, you considered trying to kick him in the shin again somehow in your position. The thought dissolved into nothing as he lightly smacks your ass, causing you to jolt forward more in surprise than in pain.

With the absence of any complaints or irritating whinging, Kenjirou weighed the plump flesh in his hand, grinning to himself when he hears you moan at his curious squeezing. He wondered what other delicious noises you’ll make under him.

Well there was only way to find out.

Winding his hand back, his hand came down with a loud ringing smack, hard enough to leave his hand pleasantly tingling. The pink imprint of his hand on your ass was going to be burned into his mind for a long time, a wave a heat rolling through him and coalescing in his groin.

Again, you jolt forward at the impact, nails scratching at the acrylic lacquer of the tabletop, unable to find purchase. While you could feel the poor skin pulse dully with pain, pure arousal flashed hot and bright within you. If you had ever thought spanking would be something you were into, you’re pretty sure Shirabu was one of the worst people to discover along with, always the one to abuse any situation.

The next time his hand came down on your ass, you mistakenly tensed, causing the pain to shoot through you ten-fold. You wince at the sensation of him hitting the exact same spot over and over again. You were sure the spot would be rouge red by this point, but the pain didn’t take away from the pleasure you derived from his rough treatment.

Mixing things up, Kenjirou bites his lip as he aims a smack right at the apex of your thighs, close enough to your core that the vibrations of the hit ripped a lewd moan from your lips, much louder than the rest. Blood rushing down to his already engorged cock at your noises, he knows that he could easily get addicted to your bent form. You enjoying the spanking was just a fun bonus for him.

“I should’ve guessed you were into spanking. It fits the ‘good school girl’ façade you’ve got going on,” Shirabu hums, throwing the words back into your face. Leaning down, he breathes into your ear, “I could really get used to you like this beneath me. I have such big plans for you.”

Shivering at his low tone, your mind whirled chaotically with half-baked ideas of what exactly he had in plan for you. Honestly, as long as it ended up with his dick inside of you, you don’t care about the rest. You were always opposed to the saying ‘It’s not the destination, it’s all about the journey.’ And this situation was no different to you.

Kenjirou slides your panties over your ass and down your legs, half tempted to chuck them across the room just to see you panicking over locating them after this. On second thought… He shoves the offending piece of lace into his back pocket, as a present for himself putting up with you.

His hands bracket you bottoms of your ass and smooths his thumbs over the soft pink flesh. Kenjirou watching them slightly jiggle in the palms of his hand, admiring the rosy tinge he painted them. Kenjirou firmly decided that the flesh looked much prettier painted pink by the very hand that slammed balls over the side of the net with shocking force.

Fingers gliding over the cheeks and trailing downward, he makes contact with your wet lips. Mildly surprised, he runs a slender finer between them, gathering your juices.

“Look at how wet you are for me. I bet I won't even have to prep you, your greedy hole will probably just suck me in.” He states, rubbing his finger slowly -torturously - over the entrance of your hole.

You whine through your makeshift gag and buck your hips against his fingertips, hoping for them to dip in deeper. The pad of his crooked index finger dipped shallowly into you a few times from your efforts. Kenjirou was greatly amused at your efforts, deciding to hold his fingers in place for you to try and fail to fuck into yourself.

“Look at how desperate you are, it’s honestly pathetic. I expected so much more from you.” He tutted.

The flash of anger fizzled and died before it took root, much too distracted by him inserting his entire index finger in without warning. While you had explored yourself on more than a few occasions, mapping out sensitive flesh with your fingers, the feeling of his much longer and slightly thicker finger inside of you was incredible.

You whimper at the slick feeling of him moving his finger in and out of you, occasionally curling against the spongy tissue, seeking for the bundle of nerves that will make you scream. Slotting in another finger and him twisting them simultaneously had you panting and clenching your eyes at the full feeling from just the two.

Feeling your walls tighten and quiver around his finger as he crooked them a few times, he doubled down to find your erogenous zone before he fucks you. It only took another finger and few moments of scissoring them deep inside of you, indicated by your abrupt gasping jerk.

Licking his lips, he rubs his fingers harshly against the soft area, committing to memory the muffled breathy moans and whimpers that dropped from your panting mouth. Dick twitching, hard and painful within his tight slacks draws him out of his mind. He withdraws his saturated fingers from your sopping hole, briefly abandoning the sensitive spot for now.

Slumping, you simultaneously miss and despise his fingers fucking into you, hating that he found your G-spot quicker than you’d anticipated. The prick was too smart for his own good, the asshole probably knew more about female anatomy and orgasms than you did with biology being his best class.

The rustle of his pants being undone pulls you back to reality. Oh god this is really happening. Your breath picks up, anticipating the next move the bitter setter will make next.

The sensation of something long, hot and rigid, his dick you assumed, rests between your still stinging cheeks. His fingers dip back between your lips and gather more liquid arousal. Kenjirou ignores your groan at the odd feeling, preoccupied with smearing your slick over his dick, taking his sweet time.

One hand on his cock, guiding the tip to sit at your entrance, with the other placed for support on your hip. Tense, you waited for him to just slam on in, not anticipating him to draw out the moment. You hated the way that you squirmed at the thought of his dick being so close but so far away from where you wanted it most.

“You better hold onto the desk. Once I start, I’m not going to stop until I hear you screaming.” He said, smug tone and all ringing loud and clear.

You huff indignantly at his statement, as if to say: ‘Sure, whatever you say, asshole.’

Rolling his eyes, he tightens his grip as he starts to insert himself inside of you. Obviously taking pity on you, he graciously chooses to glide in at a decent pace. The breath was punched out of your lungs as he completely sheathed himself inside you, hot and throbbing. You try not to violently shiver around him because you couldn’t bare the thought of inflating his already unhealthily enlarged ego.

Dropping the niceties, as if there were any with Shirabu involved, he slid out not a moment later and slammed back on in, loving the sound of his skin smacking against yours. Sloppy sounds of your fucking fill the air and frankly you’d be pretty grossed right now if your brain didn’t reside in your pussy that very moment.

Fucking you from behind, Kenjirou grabs a fistful of shiny hair and harshly rips back your head, hot breath cascading over perspiring skin.

“You take me so well, like you were made for me. Maybe I should fuck this hole of yours again sometime.”

In retribution, you clench down as hard as feasibly possible, hoping to knock him off of that high horse of his. The grunt that rings in your ears pacifies your ire, but the unexpected resistance doesn't stop him from trying to fuck up into you even harder.

Pardoning his attitude, you loosen up for him, more so for your own pleasure than his. He doesn’t hesitate to pick up his unforgiving pace, pumping in and out of you like a sex-crazed mad-man. Eyes rolling into your head, you felt the tip of his thick dick kiss the entrance of your cervix, which paired fantastically with the friction his thick cock made against your quivering walls.

Moaning around the tie as he furiously fucks you from behind, you can feel the piece of fabric become saturated with your drool. He seemed to appreciate the sounds you made, hands tightening around your hips and starts to seek out the highly sensitive spot hidden somewhere inside of you.

Every time he slid out, he’d readjust his angle with only the tip still in before slamming back on into, waiting for the moment he found his target. The pain of the table cutting into your stomach is buried underneath the pleasure Kenjirou relentlessly delivered to you.

An idea flashed in Kenjirou’s mind, a cruel one, but not too cruel as revenge for all the shit you’ve put him through. Unknowing of the feral grin on his face, you continued to moan as his dick fills you so perfectly, suddenly jolting when you feel his warm lips against your throat. You let out a squeal and clenched down hard around his length when you feel his teeth bury into the soft skin. Manicured nails scratching small divots into the desk as he sucks the bruise deep into your skin.

You grit your teeth when you feel him release your skin, the spot already feeling sore at the rough treatment. You could tell from the position that it was too high for the uniform’s collar to hide and wearing a scarf in this summer weather was way too suspicious. That motherfucker probably planned that; you silently fume as he smirks against your perspiring flesh.

The worst part though was when all conspiring thoughts of retribution were wiped clean from you mind as your entire nervous system is struck by lightning. You cry out loudly at the sensation, to which Kenjirou huffed under his breath, muttering out a quiet ‘Thank fuck’ that went unacknowledged by you as you tried to recuperate from him hitting your G-spot with the force of a tank.

Kenjirou greedily ate up each cry leaving your lips as he continued to hit the sensitive nerves with deadly precision. The sight of you writhing underneath him was enough payment for the annoyance he’d suffered through at your hands the past month. But it was the feel of your walls clutching at him tightly and your delicious moans that was the true reward for all his patience.

The wet squelching noises of your furious fucking was enough to make you blush, which was hilarious thinking about it. Not even four weeks ago you were ready to jump the table and non-sexually choke him out with your tie – and now he was railing you with his tie as a makeshift gag.

Ah, fate truly was a bitch.

Thrusts becoming frantic, you knew that Kenjirou was nearing his end and you would swear bloody vengeance if he finished and left you high and dry. It turns that promise would be for naught. Shirabu reaches around you with his still slick covered fingers and rubs furiously at your clit, giving it a few good squeezes, rightfully assuming you loved the rough treatment. And that you did, you bucked wildly in his grasp, moans hitting a whole new pitch as you unravel quickly under his dual ministrations.

The arousal that had been sitting hot inside of you, seemed to snap and unleashed upon you an orgasm that had stars sear into your eyelids, eyes clenched tightly as the sensation threatened to drown you in it. What felt like pure electricity coursed through your veins, feeling as if Shirabu’s dick had just sent you to a new dimension, brain liquefying inside of your skull.

Behind you, Kenjirou seizes up as he feels you tighten up considerably around him, delivering him to his peak as well. His pace slows as his hips stutter, unleashing his load within you. Even completely incoherent, you shivered at the feeling of him feeling at you, not able to muster up and ounce of disgust at the feeling. That should’ve been the moment that you knew that you were truly fucked; you were completely wrapped around Shirabu’s long pretty fingers.

Limbs trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, you laid there limply as he pulled out. You felt a bead of sweat drop down your brow as you weakly collect yourself together, drawing yourself up on shaky arms. The sensation of thick globules of Shirabu’s cum slipping out of you was enough of a distraction to brush of the intense stare Shirabu aimed at your leaking hole.

Leaning back, Kenjirou fights down the flush on his cheeks from watching his cum slowly dripping out of you, feeling hot under the collar from both the sight and  from the mind-blowing orgasm. Shuffling back, he cleans himself off with a clean tissue in his shirt pocket before tucking himself back into his boxer briefs and pulling up his pants.

Slumped against the table, you felt like a wreck, both inside and out. Dick rearranging your insides aside, you were happy that Shirabu deigned for you to orgasm instead of leaving you a begging mess, which was a very likely move for the bastard.

Your jaw felt sore from how full your mouth was with his tie crammed in. Pulling out the wet article, you tossed it onto the table in his general direction. Kenjirou looks at the crumpled fabric with disgust. Weirdly, he doesn't complain as he gathers some tissues from his bag to wrap the article in until he can get it cleaned.

Choosing not to question his sudden pacified attitude towards you, you pushed yourself up on weak arms. Kenjirou laughs at your struggle, not at all intimidated by your nasty glare.

“Asshole.” You mumble under your breath.

You make quick work of cleaning yourself up too, feeling weirdly exposed bent over and naked from the waist down whilst a fully clothed Shirabu almost looked bored, acting as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out.

Your skirt slides back into place as you stand upright, shortly followed by more of his load trickling out of you. Pinned underneath his burning stare, you refused to give him an inch and fought back the tremble that threatened to overtake your body at the odd sensation.

“Alright, now sit down. Let’s finish this project before I leave and you have to finish fixing up the format by yourself.”

You blink at him. “Really?”

It seems the bastard wouldn’t even let you properly clean up first before diving back into the assignment.

“Really. Now get your lazy ass up, you’re creasing our data sets.”

Not willing to reveal how flustered you were, you downplay your disgust at the feeling his cum drying on your thighs and stiffly walk over to your chair, trying to spy your panties somewhere on the ground, but ultimately found nothing. You could have sworn that Shirabu smirked at your searching looks, but a second glance showed you his normal bored expression.

Sticking your nose up in the air, you start discussing your plan on how to fix the minor issue of formatting. Shirabu gave lackluster nods at your prodding, clearly wanting nothing more than to leave. You did your best to push through the sensation of the sticky mess drying between your legs, internally fretting as to where your panties may lie. You're pretty sure that you'd perish on the spot if a staff member found them.

Thankfully, it took only half an hour before Shirabu beat a hasty retreat, quickly placing all his stuff neatly into his bag and intent on walking out of the room without another word. The fucker wasn’t even going to say goodbye to you.

Shifting in your seat, you start packing up. Eyes wildly darting around, you didn’t notice him pausing in the open doorway.

Glancing over his shoulder, shooting you a dastardly smirk, Kenjirou savours your infuriated expression before turning away and walking off. Slightly confused, you squint as you try to make out an odd-looking lump in his back pocket. At the sight of familiar lace peeking out of his slacks, your eyes widen in shock and indignant rage.

“That bastard.”

Edit: I fixed an incongruity with a bit in the end scene, sorry to anyone that picked it up!!

Notes: We need more Shirabu content so here I am delivering some extremely self-indulgent content. I made Shirabu a dick but I made reader a bitch towards him and he strikes me as the type to hate stuck up people. Hope you all enjoyed!

[13-reasons-ideas]

Can’t Go Back Part 16

A/N: This chapter is very Justin-centric. I felt like Addy and Justy needed a day where they didn't need to worry about boys or moms. Just a day to be kids. It’s kind of filler but I like it. It’s a light chapter. As always, feedback is always nice and much love. - Em 

Things were awkward between us for the next week. We had agreed to table the discussion about his dad and had come to a tentative understanding about Justin. We had never had a fight like that before so, we weren’t really sure where the lines were yet. I learned that his dad was a line you don’t cross unless invited. He learned that Justin was a line that was going to run parallel to our relationship, whether he liked it or not. Monty’s behaviour at school was different too. He was a little nicer for people to be around. Not Tyler Down, but I couldn’t really blame him. The kid was fucking creepy. Monty was even sort of polite to Justin.

By the following Monday, things had gone back to normal. Our texts were longer and less to the point. He was… well he was more Monty at school than he was for a few days. His friends didn’t seem to pick up on the change. But I did. He’s trying. I got dressed in in my comfy light wash jeans, because Justin and I were going to the mall after school and paired it with a light pink tank top with an old red and black flannel. The flannel had been sitting at the back of my closet for quite a while. I found it while I was going through and cleaning it out for donations. “Morning Dad.” I called as I heard him pass my room. He cleared his throat and grunted in response. He must have just woken up.

Downstairs, dad was making a cup of coffee while he read the paper. “Morning Addy.” He nodded when he heard me. Definitely just woke up. Grabbing a granola bar for breakfast, I went through and gathered up my books for school. Once they were neatly arranged in my backpack, I set it by the door. My book from last night was still sitting on the island. I took it and flipped it open to my last page since I had a little time to kill before leaving for school. Deciding I would get too lost in the book, I rethought and took it over to my bag to take to school.

“Justin and I are going to the mall after school. He needs help shoe shopping. And I need to grab a few replacement shirts. I had to throw some out that were too old.”

“Have fun. Don’t forget to grab your mom’s prescription on the way home.”

“I won’t. Do we need anything else while we are out?”

“No, we should be okay. I’ll text you if I think of anything today. Your mom will be late today too. One of her students needed to schedule an afterhours meeting.”

“Okay. See you later dad.”

“Bye.”

Justin was early today, which surprised me. At least until I noticed his duffel bag. He must have spent the night at Bryce’s last night. He was mingling with his friends. I waved as I passed them to my locker, not paying anyone much mind. I watched them a bit from across the hall. They were goofing off as usual. Justin’s smile seemed a little forced. I’ll talk to him after school. My eyes scanned the group. When they landed on Monty, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. And I will admit I may have possibly spent more time than strictly required, simply checking him out. It was during my perusal of his body that I noticed something familiar. A little too familiar. My eyes widened and I looked down. That… that’s… we are wearing the same shirt. Spinning around and opening my locker again, I ripped off the flannel and shoved it in my locker.

Casually making my way over to the group of boys, I made sure to rub my arms like I was cold. “Morning Justin. Morning Boys.” I shivered.

“Morning Addy.” Justin said, as he leaned in to hug me gently.

“Where’s my morning Addy?” Bryce smirked.

“Oh, I’m sorry Bryce. I must have forgotten we say morning to each other. Morning Walker.”

“Morning Addy. Are you cold or are you finally going to tell us all what your secret to doing well in school is?”

“I’m cold. And I’ve shared my secret with you before. It’s called actually opening the books they rent to us and reading them. Hey Justin, do you have an extra sweater? I spilled water on my other shirt like right after I left the house.”

“Yeah, I have one in my locker. Go ahead and grab it.”

“Thanks. Have I told you you’re the best lately?”

“Nope.” He laughed.

“Well, now I have.”

I was in a good mood when lunch rolled around. I nodded to Courtney in the hall on my way to the cafeteria. She was talking to Marcus about one thing or another. Tyler was watching Hannah in a way that had it been anyone else, wouldn’t have been weird. Clay was watching her too. I smiled and waved at him. He nodded back. “Hey Addison.” Tyler called. I turned around and he waved his camera at me. I waved my book in the air like I was busy but stopped for the student life photographer anyway. He snapped his photo and I continued on.

Since I was in a good mood, I didn’t even think twice about sitting with Justin and his friends. “Are we eating at the mall?” Justin asked when I sat down.

“I don’t see why not. I’ll have to stop at Baker Drugs on my way home though. Mum has a refill waiting.”

“Okay.” He nodded and bit into his sandwich. Jeff bounded over to the table.

“Guess who got above a C?” He asked, proudly.

“You?” Anders asked in response.

“Yup. Now I can finally make Clay make a move.”

“He’s going to hate it Jeff.” I said.

“I know. But he needs to put himself out there.”

“Make a move on who?” Monty asked.

“Hannah Baker.” Jeff replied. “Everyone knows he likes her.”

“I don’t really pay attention to the Jensen kid.” He shrugged.

“He hates dances.”

“I know. But a deal is a deal. I get above a C he goes to the dance. Are you going Addy?”

“Wasn’t planning on it, no.”

“Why not?” Bryce asked. I rolled my eyes.

“I hate school dances. The only not crappy part is that Tony is DJing.”

“You have to go. I’m going.” Justin begged with his mouth full.

I shook my head. What is it with boys not chewing their food? “I went to the last one. It’s Bryce’s turn to babysit you.”

“I babysat last time.”

“No, you didn’t. You were sneaking off behind the bleachers with your date. I babysat. Plus, I can’t tie a tie. And neither can Justin. Ergo, your turn.”

“Yes you-.” Justin started. I kicked him under the table.

“I’m not going to the stupid dance. Besides, I have homework.”

“Addison. The dance isn’t for like three weeks.” Jeff complained.

“I know Jeff. But I am not Clay Jensen. I have friends. I have a life.”

“Aren’t you friends with Clay?” Scott asked.

“Yes. So, I know he keeps to himself. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to the dance.”

“You’re not going to the dance yet.” Justin smiled devilishly. I rolled my eyes.

“Did you finish your English paper?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Did you?” He challenged. Monty choked on a laugh. Smooth. Bryce quirked his brow.

“Did you just ask her if she finished a homework assignment?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged.

“Yes, I did. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. Since you’re on me about my homework.”

“Justin. The last time she handed something in late, was like seventh grade because she was out of school the day it was due.” Monty added.

“I remember. She had a stress rash because of it. How do you remember?”

He shrugged. “It had never happened before.” He noticed that? And thought it was important enough to remember? Thankfully before any more questions could be raised, the bell rang.

“I’ll meet you at my locker after school Justin.” He gave me a thumbs up before walking away, already in conversation with Zach about something.

Justin and I drove to the mall, singing along to whatever was on a Spotify artist radio. “Do we want a pretzel now or later?” I asked as I pulled my purse out of my backpack in the car. I had changed back into the flannel from this morning while I waited for my best friend at my locker.

“Now.” We said in unison.

Pretzels in hand, we wandered around the mall for a while. “I need some new shirts. I had to throw a bunch out because they were really old and not able to be donated.”

“You want opinions?”

“Of course.”

“Shoes first?”

“Sure.”

“DSW?” He shrugged and nodded. At the store, we headed straight for the men’s section. I pointed out a few pairs that seemed like they were his style. He made a face at the first couple of pairs and shook his head. Shrugging, I pointed out a pair of Nikes that were on sale. He gave me his best seriously look and I laughed. “They could be nice.”

“Yeah. If I want to look like my feet are three sizes bigger than they are.”

“You know what they say about guys with big feet though Justin.” He flipped me off. “What about these?” This time, he actually tried them on. They were not the right ones.

After a few more busts, we decided it was time to try a different store. Famous Footwear was having a sale. We stopped in there. Once again, we headed straight for the men’s sneakers. He tried a couple of pairs of Converse. Neither of us were very big fans. “White?” I asked, pointing out a pair of Pumas.

“No.” He shot down. I nodded and we kept looking. He picked up a pair of grey and white Nikes. “These are nice.”

“They are.” We found his size and he tried them on. “How do they feel?”

“Good.” He flexed his foot a few times before trying them out to walk. “Yeah, these feel good.” I smiled and we placed them back in the box to go pay.

Shoes in hand, we made a quick pitstop for coffee. Justin brought up the topic of the Winter Formal again while we walked around trying to find some shirts for me. “Are you really not going to go Addy?”

“No Justin. I don’t want to go. And besides, I have no one to go with.” At least, no one I can go to a school dance with.

“You can go with us.”

“Go with you and Bryce. And Bryce’s boys?” I quirked my brow, sharply.

“Yeah. We don’t bite. We are fun.”

“Fun. Sure.” I muttered.

“You could see Clay try to talk to Hannah.”

“Or I could sit at home and binge watch Pretty Little Liars.”

“I thought you said you had homework Addy.”

“You know that was just so Jeff would let my excuse slide. For now, at least.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“If I say I’ll think about it, will you drop it?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Then I will think about it.” He made a fist pumping motion and I burst out laughing. “You are such a freaking dork.”

We stopped at Target and looked around the clothes-he wasn’t going to let me look at anything else-for a while. But nothing really felt like me when I looked at it or tried it on. American Eagle was a little better. I was able to at least find things I liked on the hanger and on me. “This?” I asked Justin when I came out of the dressing room in a soft purple shirt.

“It’s nice. Makes your boobs look good.”

“That’s always a plus.” I added it to the small yes pile. A blue one was next. He shook his head.

“Not your colour.”

“Didn’t think so.” A couple more noes were added to the pile before we checked out. Aritzia and Zara were close by, but I didn’t like anything on the rack enough to try it on. We made a quick stop at Madewell and I got a couple of plain white t-shirts.

“Can we make a Sephora stop? I need to replace my foundation.”

“We can if you give me your wallet, so you don’t spend all of your money.”

“I won’t spend it all. I literally only need a new bottle of foundation.”

“Alright. You have ten minutes to get in line tops.”

“Yes Dad.” I shook my head. Justin scoffed jovially. He followed close behind me in the store to make sure I stayed true to my word. They were out of my shade in my usual formula. I grabbed a bottle of my backup formula instead. By the time we were done, I didn’t even have the energy to make a stop at the bookstore. We decided to grab a slice of pizza to go instead of sitting in the food court.

Back in town, we stopped at Baker Drugs and got my mom’s prescription. I grabbed a box of gobstoppers for good measure and grinned at Justin. “Are you spending the night? We can do movies before bed as long as you aren’t a pain in my ass in the morning.”

“Sure. I’ll let my mom know.”

At home, I texted Monty while Justin was in the bathroom. Hey, Justin is spending the night for movie night.

Okay. How was shopping?

Good. I got some stuff.

Awesome. Enjoy your movies babe. Justin came back before I could reply. “Who you texting?”

“Just Zach about our Government assignment. Do we want snacks?”

“Of course, we want snacks.” Together, the two of us went downstairs and raided the cabinets.

“Hi Justin. Hi Addison.” Mum greeted as she came in the door.

“Hi Margot.” Justin replied.

“Hi Mum.”

“Make sure you don’t eat too much candy you two.” She chuckled when she saw us trying to stuff a box of Swedish berries in Justin’s sweater.

“We won’t Mum.”

“Yes Mom.”

I put a bag of popcorn in the microwave. Justin and I ran upstairs with our contraband. We both changed into comfy clothes and arranged our candy on my bed. When the microwave beeped, I ran back down to get it. Mum pretended not to notice me grabbing an extra chocolate bar. I heard her laughing with dad about it though.

“They really are quite cute together.”

“I suppose. Thankfully we don’t need to worry about them being another kind of cute.” Dad said. No, you really don’t.

Justin had Netflix pulled up when I got back to my room and shut the door. He was scrolling aimlessly. “I put butter on in the middle and the top.”

“Wonderful.” He grinned. “What mood are we in?”

“Superbad?”

“Addison! That is an R rated movie.” He exclaimed, scandalously.

“But it’s funny.”

“Superbad it is.” We got settled and hit play. After it was done, we scrolled through and picked The Social Network. Finally, just for fun to end the night… er, morning, we decided to watch the 2011 Footloose. Between the three films, we ate so much candy we knew we would wake up with stomach aches on Tuesday.

[johnsamericano]

“Stay PT. 1” j.j.h

Pairing: professor!jaehyun x prostitute!reader.

Genre: Angst, smut, fluff.

Warnings: Explicit sex, age gap, slight mention of violence.

Summary: y/n was a prostitute in the most expensive hotel of Seoul, not because she liked to have sex with strangers, but because she needed the money. Jaehyun was her college professor, he needed to “get laid” according to his friends, but he would’ve never imagined that the girl he hired was one of his students. His favorite student.

a/n: I’m sorry if this is shit. If you don’t like this kind of topics, please keep scrolling. I know that prostitution is illegal in Korea, but let’s imagine it’s not. Thank you for reading.

Part 2 | Part 3

“Alright, that’s it for today’s lesson. See you tomorrow.” Your creative writing professor dismissed the class. “Oh, wait. Before you go, leave your essays on my desk.”

Everyone groaned, specially those students who hadn’t done the assignment. You collected your stuff and pulled the essay out of your backpack.

“I’m really looking forward to read your essay.” Mr. Jung smiled warmly. “Your writing is impecable, maybe even better than mine.” You could feel the eyes of your classmates staring at you. It wasn’t common for your professor to compliment anyone.

“I’m nothing compared to you, but anyways, thank you, Mr. Jung. See you on Monday.” His dimples showed as he waved you goodbye.

You walked to your next class while Jaehyun left the building to meet his friends.

“Dude it’s been like forever since the last time we were all together.” Johnny hugged his friend tightly.

All the boys went to a restaurant near the school.

“So, how’s your love life?” Ten asked with curiosity.

“I don’t have time for that.” Jaehyun remembered all the essays he had to grade and felt the urge to go home. “Guys, I need to go.”

“But the fun hasn’t even started, we were gonna go to the club tonight.” All the boys whined.

“I have a lot of work to do, sorry.” Jaehyun picked up his coat while listening to his friends’ complaints.

“You know what? You need to get laid.” Johnny looked dead serious.

“What the fuck, John?” Jaehyun didn’t even know how to answer.

“When was the last time you had sex?”

“A year.” Jaehyun thought.

“Here.” Johnny placed a card in Jaehyun’s hand. “The place is a little bit expensive, but believe me, the service is amazing.”

Jae checked the card.

“You want me to pay for sex? I’ll pass.”

“As you wish bro, but that place is awesome.” Jaehyun left after hearing Johnny.

While he was checking the essays, the idea of going to that hotel wouldn’t leave his mind. “Maybe it would take some stress off.” He kept thinking.

After a lot of meditation, he decided to give it a try, if he didn’t like it, he could just leave.

He felt his hands shaking as he entered the hotel. Jaehyun walked towards the reception. Everything was so shiny, it was like being inside of a castle.

“Hello, how can I help you sir?” Jaehyun placed the card over the desk. “Follow me please.”

The walked towards the stairs that guided to the first floor.

“You just need to go up and turn to the left, there’s only one door so I don’t think you’ll get lost. Excuse me.” She bowed and went back to her place in the reception.

The stairs were made from quartz, the material was a little slippery, but Jaehyun managed to go all the way up without tripping. The lady was right, there was only one door with the inscription “Eden”. Soft music could be heard from behind the door.

A man welcomed him as he entered. He guided Jaehyun to a desk.

“Right now there are only two ladies and a man available.” He checked a book.

“I think I’ll stick with the ladies.” Jaehyun started fidgeting with his fingers.

“Very well.” He turned the page of his book. “One of them is 22, B cup, 1.60 meters tall. The other one is 30, C cup and 1.73 meters tall.” Jaehyun felt as if he was buying something. “The first one is submissive and basically accepts any kink the client wants to try, the other one is a switch and prefers vanilla sex.” The man directed his gaze to Jaehyun. “In my opinion, the first option is much better.”

“I think I’ll go with her.” The insecurity in Jaehyun’s voice made the man laugh.

“I’ll read the rules for you.” He cleared his throat. “Marking is strictly forbidden and so is any action that will affect our worker’s wellbeing. You’ll have an hour and a half to do what you need to do, in case of wanting more time, we’ll charge you $50 for every extra hour. No raw sex, you’ll have to wear protection, this is mostly to prevent a STD. And that’s all.” He pulled out a box from under his desk. “We also sell toys in case you’d like to purchase anything to make your experience better.”

“I think I’m good, thank you.” He put the box back in it’s original place. “How much will it be?” Jaehyun pulled out his wallet.

“$500.” Well, Johnny wasn’t exagerating when he said the place was expensive.

Still, Jaehyun handed his card to the employee. Once the payment was done, the man made a call.

“This way, sir.” He guided Jaehyun down the hall, the velvety walls gave the place a sexy vibe. “She’s inside.” He stopped in front of a room. “If you need anything I’ll be in my desk.” He bowed and left Jaehyun in front of the door.

He gathered all the courage inside of him and opened the door. The room was dark, so he turned on the lights.

“Hello, sir.” He froze when that familiar voice called him.

When you realized who it was you felt like dying from embarassment.

“Y/n?” He couldn’t believe his sweet student was a hooker.

“Mr. Jung.” You bowed a little too low, attempting to cover the blush on your face. “If you’d like, we can make a change. My coworker is free.” You were facing the floor.

“I...” Jaehyun couldn’t find any appropriate words. The view of you in a black lace lingerie set had stollen his breath. “I don’t care, but if you want to change then we can change.” He scratched his neck awkwardly.

“I don’t mind either.” To be completely honest, no one in their right mind would reject a man as handsome as Jung Jaehyun.

He stepped closer to you. With his pointer finger, he lifted up your chin. Those warm eyes made you feel somehow less nervous.

“I’m supposed to ask you about your preferences so...” Your words caught him off guard.

Would you still respect him after this?

“Sir?” Your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Please don’t think I’m weird.” You giggled. “First of all... I like to be called master.” His ears started to turn red. “I like my partner to be completely submissive. I also have a thing for bondage, but if you feel uncomfortable you can forget I ever said something.” He was talking to fast.

“Mr. Jung, please calm down. It’s not my first time doing this. We can try whatever you want.” You smiled to comfort him, but on the inside, you were just as nervous as Jaehyun. “Shall we get started?” He nodded.

His hands cupped your cheeks as he leaned down to kiss you. It was soft, until he slipped his tongue in your mouth. You moaned into the kiss.

Both of you started walking towards the bed without breaking the kiss. He pushed you down and you fell in the soft bed.

“Mr. Jung.” You moaned his name when he started touching one of your barely covered breasts.

“Master.” He corrected.

His hands started to undo your bra.

“I’ll just...” He lifted your back to remove it completely. “So gorgeous.”

His hands cupped both of your breasts. Your hips tried to grind on his crotch.

“You want my cock? Such a dirty little slut.” He lowered his body and grinded harder on you. “Do you want my cock inside your tight pussy?”

“Yes, master.” You whimpered. None of your clients had turned you on as much as Jaehyun did.

One of his hands reached for your cunt. His fingers went over the wet patch in your panties.

“So wet for me.” He got up and pulled you to the edge of the bed. Jaehyun unbottoned his shirt and pulled down his jeans. He kneeled in front of you and slowly slipped your panties off your legs. “So pretty.” His thumb slightly touched your wet pussy.

He finally got rid of his boxers and hovered over you. “That’s huge.” You thought when you saw his length.

“Condom.” You reminded him. With a groan, he got up from the bed and pulled one out of the pocket of his jeans.

He quickly opened it and rolled it down his dick. He went back to his previous position and aligned his tip with your entrance.

You felt his length slowly entering you. It hurt a lot, but the pleasure started to overcome the pain.

“Please move, master.” His pace was inhumane.

You were turned into a moaning mess. No one had ever made you feel so good. He pulled one of your knees to your chest. The pleasure just increased.

“My slut is having such a good time, isn’t she?” You wanted to answer, but your orgasm took over your mind.

You clenched your hole around him. Jaehyun came with a low groan.

Your breathing was erratic, that was the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Jaehyun got rid of the condom and laid down beside you. His arms wrapped around your body.

“That was so good.” He laughed slightly. “You’re amazing.” His nose started rubbing against your neck.

“Thank you, Mr. Jung.”

“Oh please, I think you can call me Jaehyun now.” He softly kisses your cheek.

“Okay, Jaehyun.” You both laughed.

An alarm rang, meaning your service was over.

“I need to go.” You got up from the bed and started collecting your clothes.

“Maybe I can pay an extra hour. We can cuddle and watch Tv. Sounds fun, right?” His smile was so sweet that you almost considered his proposal.

But you couldn’t jeopardize your job because of a pretty smile.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You got dressed and grabbed a robe from the closet. “See you on Monday.”

“Oh, come on y/n. Stay, I really don’t mind paying fifty bucks.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Jung.” With that being said, you left the room.

[yuzukult]

under the moonlight || junmyeon & reader

title: under the moonlight pairing: junmyeon/suho x reader  genre: ceo!reader, hint of soulmate!au, slow-burn words: 8.4k notes: continuation to [city lights]’s junmyeon, journey to him healing his own heart after letting go of his first love for her to be with his best friend who so happens to be her soulmate (chanyeol) // did this because junmyeon deserves some love & also may be a second part + will profread when i get the chance!!

part one || final

Though the living room was filled with laughter and yelling from drinking games, Junmyeon’s attention was locked on the girl of his dreams who stands in the kitchen in the arms of her soulmate, face snuggled into his chest while mumbling a ‘thank you’ for the surprise birthday party that he’d planned for her. In response, he lets out a chuckle as he places a delicate kiss onto her forehead.

Junmyeon knew it would’ve been selfish if he neglected Chanyeol’s wishes when he barged into his bedroom of their shared apartment, hair disheveled with a stressed look washed over his face. “I can’t do this anymore, I need to be with her. She’s all I think about, night and day. I haven’t even had a real conversation with her yet I know everything about her... and I love but hate everything about her because she makes me feel like I can’t live unless it’s with her.” He was aware that the younger male was going through the side-effects of refusing a relationship with his designated soulmate, evidently on the brink of detonation. It was time to let her go, no matter how much he loved her. She belonged to Chanyeol. 

The moment Junmyeon picked up the phone to ask Chanyeol to check up on her while on his business trip, he sensed over the phone Chanyeol’s wariness at the sight of the girl’s frame in bed, shivering from a fever. It was that very second it became clear to him that Chanyeol was biologically her soulmate, someone she could never let go even if she tried. Both of their dreams would be flooded with the thoughts of each other, sleepwalking mid-day to meet unconsciously, and yearning for the embrace of one another though far apart.

Goodbyes were rough. But the goodbye with her especially was the worst. 

Telling her that she wasn’t made for him and that they couldn’t be together while her eyes were brimming with tears was the hardest moment of his life. Breaking the heart of the woman he still loved was never in his plans. But Chanyeol was his best friend and watching him deteriorate day by day was just as painful for himself. 

So he sacrificed his love so that they could be together.

“Junmyeon, you don’t know how much it means to me that you came.” She says, voice soft. They’re standing in the corner of the living room, separated from the group just enough to hear the other speak. “I know how uncomfortable it must be for—”

“Don’t say that.” He interjects, adjusting the black beanie that sits on his head. “I meant what I said that day months ago. Just because we aren’t together like that doesn’t mean I won’t be in your life anymore. You were more than just a girl I dated, I loved you.”

He lied. He still loves her. But he’d never say that.

She’s chewing on her bottom lip, hair cut shorter from their last exchange that strays fall out from the hair-tie and over her face. He wishes he could push it away and behind her ear but that’s crossing the line.

“I loved you too, Junmyeon. You know that.”

“But you love Chanyeol now.” He adds, grabbing his jacket off the coat rack. Junmyeon was ending his night earlier than the rest, claiming that he wasn’t feeling too well from having to wake up early and sleeping later for an assignment at work when really he couldn’t bear to watch the two of them together for long, his heart still healing. “And I’m happy that it’s working out.”

His first love stands there for a moment, silent, despite the sounds coming from the main area as she walks him toward the front door. “Why are you so quiet?” Junmyeon questions, raising a brow.

“Chanyeol and I talked about the topic of marriage.”

Marriage. He hasn’t even fully recovered from the break-up yet and she’s already moved on entirely. 

“But... I’m not ready. I still think of you.” The words would have been more comforting if it resulted with her in his arms instead.

“We both need to move on.” He sighs, one hand on the doorknob and his heart still in hers. “It’s going to take some time but it’ll be worth it in the end. The torture from being without him will stop.”

“How did you know?”

“Know about what?”

“That I had those side effects. I never told you about it.”

Junmyeon sighs, finally turning the handle to open the door. “You started looking more and more tired each day and you complained about it often. So I did some research to see what was wrong. It’s a side effect from denying your soulmate.”

Forcing himself into work everyday was hard.

After spending so much time with his first love, she was close to convincing him to drop his day job for a career in music. Working in a corporate office was gnawing on him alive, not to mention how unbearably stiff the suits were while he sat at his office for over 8 hours a day.

“Hey,” Someone says. Her voice is tender and calm, capturing his attention. “Junmyeon, right?” You were peeking your head into his cubicle, too short to completely reach over the walls.

You were the CEO of the company he worked at, the founder of a skincare line that you developed the formulas on your own with hands-on operations and testing, utilizing your degree received after University where you studied in the States. He’d only been part of the business team for a short period of time and hadn’t even gotten to meet you yet, despite how heavily involved you were on the floor.

“Yes, I’m Junmyeon,” He says quickly, breaking his gaze before standing up, bowing and extending his hand for a shake. “Sorry about that. Wasn’t expecting to see you.” You repeat his actions and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were mocking him.

“Sorry, it’s okay. I came unannounced. Should’ve probably called or something right?” You ask, scratching the back of your head agonizingly, slightly unsure how to act in social situations. “I just thought I could stop by to talk to you.”

“I’m available to talk. Something wrong?”

Straightening the pencil skirt that hugs your lower half, you grin cheekily at him. “I’ve been going around lately, trying to understand the jobs of the people who work here. We’ve been doing so well that I wanted to meet the people who were extremely involved in the impact. Would you like to go out for lunch with me?”

Blinking blankly, Junmyeon is taken aback. You— the woman ran an entire company with products on the shelves of huge department stores to high end private shops just for the elite to take him out to lunch?

He glances over at his lunch bag that sits on the corner of the desk, pausing for a moment. And almost as if you read his mind, you say, “We could always put it in the fridge for tomorrow. Come. Let me take you out for lunch, Junmyeon. Company’s treat!”

Dropping by your office before making way out, you snatch the jacket off the back of your office chair, slinging it over your shoulders.

Junmyeon just stands in the doorway entering in, leery about coming in any further. Despite you being the one asking him to tag along, he still felt the invisible wall between the two of you, a CEO and just some guy in the business department.

Your office was massive— the windows were stretched from corner to corner, ceiling to floor, with a view of the city that was breathtaking. On the opposite side had a glass wall, seeing out to the rest of the floor where employees work, but oddly enough you never had the blinds of it opened.

“Why are you standing there so awkwardly?” You chuckle, grabbing your wallet, phone and keys from the top of your desk. “You know that you can come in here, right? I don’t bite.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, rubbing his nape anxiously. “Just kind of feels like I don’t belong here.”

You roll your eyes, walking toward him and out the room as he follows, closing the door behind. “Junmyeon, you’re always welcomed in my office. Any problems you have are mine as well. Don’t hesitate to talk to me about anything, I own an entire company for God’s sake! I would do anything I can to help a fellow employee.”

In his department, you had a reputation. Men thought you were hot— so attractive that whenever you’d walk by and greet everyone on your way to your office, they’d drool, eyes never leaving your bare legs or bottom. Women were more of a split category; some resented you for gaining the attention of men so easily, others admire your hard work and ambitions, yet trying very hard to accommodate any of the employees’ issues personally. It was hard to please everyone.

“Johnny,” You call out your assistant, his desk sitting several feet outside of your office. “I’m having lunch with Junmyeon today.”

Johnny is a skyscraper. But when he’s sitting down, he seems so small next to you, almost like a little grocery store in the corner of the block of a big city while at his desk.

“So you’re ditching Eunwoo today?”

“Never said I agreed to having lunch with him. If he comes, just say I left. I’m having lunch with Junmyeon.”

Leaning back in his seat, he has his arms crossed against his chest, squinting at you. Junmyeon always questioned the relations between you and Johnny, but after observing the entire conversation, it seems like he’s just a concerned friend. Most likely why you keep him around.

“Should I say you’re having lunch with Junmyeon? Might piss Eunwoo off.” He says, gesturing toward Junmyeon when he says his name.

“Why are you trying to piss him off? I said I was over it.” You click your tongue, waving off Johnny in dismissal afterwards. “Whatever, I said I’m leaving. See you after lunch.”

“You’re probably wondering who Eunwoo is,” You unlock the doors of your car, opening the drivers side when Junmyeon stops in his tracks. “He’s my ex.”

“Wait— you’re driving?”

“Yeah, how else would we get there?” Sliding into the driver’s seat, he hesitates for a moment before following into the passenger side.

“Just didn’t think you’d be driving.” Junmyeon responds, putting on his seatbelt over his body. “Were you supposed to meet with your ex today?”

“He assumed.” Pressing the start button, the engine of the Audi roars, a sweet sound to any car enthusiast’s ears.

“You don’t think I drive?”

“More like... I thought you had a driver.”

You shake your head, pulling out of the garage of the company’s building, driving in the direction of a restaurant he’s not familiar with.

“Where are we going?”

“Pick: a five star restaurant or a restaurant that deserves it?”

“The latter.”

“A man after my own heart,” You joke, glancing over his direction with a sweet smile. “My favorite spot. It won’t take long.”

It’s a ramyun restaurant hidden within a large city without much foot traffic, but he wasn’t going to doubt your plans.

After handing the waiter back your menus with your orders, you rub your hands on your skirt sheepishly. “Uh, do you have a girlfriend?”

Shocked by the sudden question, Junmyeon’s jaw slacks.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, have you met your soulmate yet?” Once the words leave your mouth again, you groan at your lack of execution of holding small talk. “Sorry again, ignore that. Didn’t mean it like that.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend and no, I haven’t yet.” He thought your reaction was cute. It was understandable how people were so easily smitten by you. “Do you?”

“No,” You say, voice a bit disappointed but your face doesn’t show it. “But I’m too busy anyway. I meant to ask because you’ve been working endless hours and I was afraid it was taking you away from someone at home.”

You were worried about him. It was different from the way his first love showed that she cared, she was more of a person who showed that she was worried, less vocal than you.

“No,” He chuckles light heartedly. Coming into your car, he was tensed and intimidated by your presence, but seeing the way you stuttered your words made you seem more human than how the employees made you out to be. “I’m alone. No one is nagging at me at home.”

“Ah,” You say, tapping your fingers onto the wooden table. “I see. I’m really impressed with your work, Junmyeon. How did you get into your career field?”

“Just seemed simpler at the time,” He admits, leaning back into his chair. “It was an easy major that my group of friends were considering, and although I really wanted to pursue music, I knew I needed some stability.”

“Music?” You ask as the waitress comes by with glasses full of water as you bow your head in appreciation. “Are you still interested in it?”

“Mm, sometimes. I’ve produced some songs here and there, I enjoy working with my creative side.”

“Would you venture out of your comfort zone?”

“I mean, if I could I would. But I have bills to pay, so I stay where I am now and do the best I can at it.”

You’re quiet for a moment as the server comes by, delivering your bowls of ramyun to the table. The aroma coming from the food made your mouths water, and your stomach growling in hunger in the process. “Sorry,” Your cheeks flush pink. “I’m kinda hungry.”

“Don’t apologize,” A smile tugs on the edges of his mouth softly. “It’s natural.”

Your stomach tightens at his smile but you brush it off as just a reaction from starving yourself from yesterday’s lunch. Business has been blooming, taking time away from your everyday from actually taking care of yourself. Taking Junmyeon here was supposed to be a learning experience about him, something you said you’d try doing frequently with your employees, but getting to eat at your favorite restaurant was your own version of self-care.

“How would you consider working in my marketing department? Well, more of the design or creative team. I have commercials and clips they play in stores to produce, and if you’re interested, maybe you can dip your toes in that. Both working with music and filmography?”

Junmyeon stops in the midst of blowing the steam from his raging hot noodles, lips pursed. “Wait, what?”

After chewing a mouthful of the delicious ramyun that awakens both you and your tastebuds, you blissfully lean back in your seat. “Jesus, just one bite takes me away.” You compliment before sitting back up, preparing yourself for another spoonful. “What I’m trying to say is, if you’re interested, you should consider working in the marketing department. I can’t offer you a record deal, but I can get your foot in the door somewhere.”

“I haven’t shown you a portfolio or anything.” He says, sweat beads forming on his forehead, and he’s not sure if it’s from anxiety or the temperature of the noodles.

“You don’t need to. It’s a learning experience and you grow and improve as you go. I trust that if you enjoy it enough, you’d get better with it. If you don’t, that’s okay. Feel free to tell me and I’d be more than happy to put you back in the business department, hauling away with meetings and conversations with both men and women that you probably hate with a fiery passion.”

“You’re not serious, are you?”

“Do you want it or not, Junmyeon? I’m a busy woman, I’m trying to eat my noodles.”

Knocking on the tall wooden doors that lead into your office, he discreetly opens it slightly, peering before completely entering. He calls out your name, the gentlest sound you’ve ever heard as your head snaps in his direction. “You asked for me?”

“I did!” You point to the seat across from your desk, gesturing for him to get comfortable. 

“What could I do for you?”

You’re finishing up an email, eyes glued on the monitor before hitting the ‘send’ button before fully giving your whole attention to the male in front of you. “It’s been a week since you’ve started in your new department. How is it?”

You were right, it had been an entire week since you’ve last spoken, occasionally exchanging glances in the office, and Junmyeon can’t believe how quickly time had passed by. You had transitioned him in the marketing department, with hopes that he could get some more exposure to a different part of the industry since his dreams fit more with dipping into his artistic skills. He was enjoying the new experience so much that he had forgotten how much time had passed, assuming he’d only seen you several days go.

“It’s been a week already?” He says without thought, running his fingers through his lightly styled hair. You can’t help but notice the way he makes your breath hitch but you dismiss the feeling by clearing your throat. “I guess I’ve been enjoying it so much I haven’t even noticed how quickly time has passed.”

“That’s good to hear!” He actually seemed delighted with his new job. One of the perks of being in your position was being able to do things like this and see people change, see people be happy. If it fit your means to do it, you’d make it happen. “I’m glad. Please feel free to tell me if you’re having any issues. I’m flexible, if you’re not content with what you’re doing, I can always transfer you somewhere else within the company, or even back to where you were.”

“Can I ask something?”

“Sure, shoot. What is it?” You rest your arms on your large glass desk that seemed so tiny in your spacious office. 

He’s quiet for a moment, licking his lips in thought. “Why are you doing this? I didn’t think it was possible for me to... just switch out of my department and do something entirely new. I don’t have the skillset for it, nor a degree or anything.”

Shrugging, you purse your lips, eyes circling the room. “Because life isn’t easy. Not everyone is going to find what they enjoy in their high school years when they’re applying for colleges. Hell, college isn’t necessarily the place you’re guaranteed to find what you like anyway.”

“But you did?”

“I did, but I got lucky. I’ve witnessed enough people go through those feelings. Graduating from a university with a degree you worked hard to obtain in four years, only to realize that this isn’t what you want?” Taking a brief moment to organize your thoughts, you continue. “I want the people who work for me to be happy, Junmyeon. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them, if it weren’t for people like you. In actuality, I think I work for everyone here since everyone is working to make my dreams come true. It’s only fair if I try to do the same.”

Junmyeon wasn’t quite sure why, but he was comparing you to his first love again. 

There was a huge difference between the both—few similarities like how independent the two of you were, how immersed in your careers you’d been, and how much you cared for other people. It’d been the first time in a while since he’d been so observant and drawn someone, so distracted from his ex that he found himself wanting to know more about you.

“That’s... selfless.” 

“Just a thought.” You grin, tapping the pads of your fingertips against your desk again. It’s a habit of yours when you’re dubious about your next action, he picks up. “Do you think you can show me some of the things you’re working on before they air?”

“I heard you got a new job,” Chanyeol says from beside, startling Junmyeon as he’s grabbing a couple pieces of pork onto his plate. “How’d you land such a great deal? You’re producing the commercial for that skincare line you used to work for, right?”

“Somewhat right,” Junmyeon responds, a bit distracted by cooking the raw meat, placing the completed ones on Chanyeol’s plate. “I still work for that company. They just transferred me out the department to try something new.”

“No way.” Chanyeol’s eyes are huge, but they’re bulging out his head from surprise. “How did that happen?”

Junmyeon shrugs however a smile sits brightly in his face. “CEO asked what I wanted to do, I told her, and here we are.”

“Sounds like she likes you.” Minseok interjects into the conversation, popping open another bottle of cold beer. “You won the heart of the big CEO lady already? Sounds like a Korean drama,” He says, wriggling his brows suggestively.

Junmyeon denies. “Honestly, she does this thing where she has lunch with several employees to get to know what they do everyday since there has been growth in the company.”

“So you’ve had lunch with her?” Jongin is in on the conversation now, eyes from all the men at the table glued into Junmyeon.

“Uh, yes?”

“So, it was a lunch date.” Sehun invites himself in.

“No, it was just a boss and employee lunch. What’s up with you guys?”

“You’ve never really... talked about a girl lately.” Jongdae points out faintly, almost like he’s scared to pull a nerve. “At least, not for this long.”

“She’s nice... I just don’t think someone like her would ever like someone like me, though. She’s attractive, nice, and caring— but guys, come on. She owns an entire skincare line that are on the shelves of every store.”

“Stop talking down on yourself,” Chanyeol’s speaking now, and his warm orbs are comforting when they meet with Junmyeon’s. “There’s no guarantee that you’ll meet your soulmate, especially since the age is coming up. Doesn’t hurt to try shooting your shot with her, right?”

The age. The age where once you turn thirty, your chances of ever meeting your soulmate declines almost to 2%. Junmyeon has already hit the ripe age of 29 with only a year left before his probability descends into the abyss.

“I can’t hit on her.” He furrows his brows, stuffing his cheeks with a bite of kimchi. “She’s my boss.”

“Be discreet. Give her some subtle hints. If she doesn’t reciprocate, then abort mission and pretend you were just being nice.”

Junmyeon rolls his eyes at his friends’ advices. They were constantly interrupting each other with new ideas after another before someone taps his shoulder. “Junmyeon?”

“Oh— hey. Hey!” He says your name; he always says it the same way, the way that it warms your heart to the point you just wish you could grab his arms to wrap around you so you could doused yourself in his scent. He had an impact on you but you held your composure. Maybe you were starting to crush on him, if you haven’t already, because he was just so kind but he’s the type to be kind to everyone.

“Uh, guys. This is my boss...” He introduces, scratching his head. He continues on naming the rest of his group, hesitant about the whole ordeal as you wave cheekily to them all.

“You guys can just call me by my name, I’m not Junmyeon’s boss outside of the office.” You turn to look at the older male, hands stuffed into the front pockets of your jeans.

Even in the horrible brightness of fluorescent lighting, you managed to still look seamlessly beautiful in Junmyeon’s eyes. Your attire was distinct from the everyday work apparel yet you still appeared put together. Maybe Junmyeon was the one crushing.

“Come join us!” Chanyeol says quickly, gesturing the seat on the other side of Junmyeon as Jongdae slides over to give you enough room.

Junmyeon clicks his tongue, feigning a hit to Chanyeol before looking over at you. “I’m sorry, are you here with someone? I don’t want to take you away from them or force you to sit with us if you don’t want to.”

“Ah, honestly, I was just going to order something off the menu and take it home to eat. Unless you don’t want me here?” 

“Oh, no, of course I want you here, come,” Junmyeon responds, tapping the empty seat beside him. Timidly, you shrug your shoulders before taking up the offer and settle at the side of Junmyeon. 

Throughout the night, being with Junmyeon and his friends let you discover a completely new side of him. With them, he was considered the ‘mother’ of the group, nurturing and looking out for the rest of them, despite not being the eldest. He’s admirable, so Yixing remarks, but also selfless because he never has himself on his mind other than his friends and family.

When Junmyeon excuses himself to the bathroom, you learn that he sacrificed his relationship with the girl of his dreams so she could be with her soulmate regardless of the fact that she didn’t want to be with him because he rejected her. You find out that Chanyeol was the friend, and that he wants nothing more than to help find happiness for him as well. 

You pay for dinner. Junmyeon argues with you about it for a brief moment before you jokingly threaten that his job was on the line and he pouts in return. You’re almost bold enough to tell him that if he lets you kiss his pout that he could pay.

“Uh... Why are you in my office?”

“You cancelled on lunch last time. And a few times before that. I wanted to come so I can spontaneously take you out for dinner instead.”

You squint your eyes at the male in front of you, throwing the pen in your hand on your desk heatedly. “Catch the hint? I’m not very interested in the idea of having lunch with you. Or anything, really.”

“The idea, but you haven’t done it yet.”

Eunwoo is probably the cutest guy you’ve laid your eyes on but after dating for three years, it became evidently clear that the two of you didn’t click at all. Girls were at his beck and call, and you were growing tired of having to tell him which girls had bad intentions. You felt like his mom. He’s too sweet but it was starting to hurt your pride a bit when rumors were going around that he was flirting with others so you immediately put a stop to the relationship. 

“Eunwoo,” You sigh heavily, leaning back in your swivel chair. It’s around 5:00PM at this point, your day filled with meetings and tasks regarding a new launch approaching soon. “This... is really sweet of you. But we broke up.”

“I’m obviously here to try again.”

“You’re so oblivious about women all the time! I’m tired of teaching you, I need someone who doesn’t need to be groomed to fit me.”

There’s a knock on the door, and both your heads snap toward the direction to only see Junmyeon’s head peeking into the room. “Uh, sorry, am I interrupting something? Johnny said I could come in.”

You wanted to call Junmyeon your own personal superhero because he’s standing there in what seems like his best work outfit, and you’re almost drooling at the sight of him. Maybe it was because it was already so late in the day, and he looks like he’s been at his desk for a long time since his tie is loosened around his neck, and a button is undone.

“No, please, come in.” Eunwoo’s glare could pierce through you right now but you keep your gaze away. 

“Sorry,” Junmyeon bows at the other male before Eunwoo takes a seat in the corner of the room where the black leather couches were. He wasn’t backing down any time soon. “I... finished the video.”

“Oh?” He’s handing you a small flashdrive that you take willingly, inserting it into your computer before clicking around on your desktop before you reach your destination.

“Do you have headphones or something?”

Your brows crinkle in confusion. “What?”

He pulls out his keys, flipping open a case that holds his AirPods, placing it into the palm of your hand as you tilt your head when he rounds your desk, helping you bluetooth the device in. “Why are we doing this again?”

“Just a bit embarrassed about my first project. I don’t actually want to see you watch it.”

Eunwoo has his legs crossed, eyes shooting darts in the direction of you. He must be bursting with jealousy with how Junmyeon is seemingly close to you, making his way back to the seat in front of your desk, settling comfortably. Eunwoo observes that this is definitely not the first time the other male has been in your office.

After a few moments, you pull the buds out from your ears, placing it back into the white case and returning it to Junmyeon. “Wow... I--... Honestly, Jun, that was one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen. I mean I have some notes, don’t take it the wrong way, but... this is different.”

“I hope you mean a good kind of different?”

“Of course.”

He’s gifting you that warm smile again. “Send them over. I’ll take a look and send you an updated version.”

“You like him.”

“Hm?” You hum heedlessly, typing away on the computer with your comments still fresh in your mind. Junmyeon had left your office moments before, taking his leave home.

“You have a crush on that guy. I just saw you give him that look.” Agilely turning your head to face your ex-lover, you heave out a sigh. “What look, Eunwoo?”

“You used to look at me like that. I remember it because it’s when I knew that you returned those feelings for me and I went for it.” 

Frustrated, you push your keyboard away. “What? I can’t just look at a guy now? All of the sudden you’re an expert at these things? And why does it even matter? We’re not together anymore.”

“Because he’s competition? What else?”

“Eunwoo, get the fuck out please.” You say through your gritted teeth before throwing a post-it note stack at him as he makes his way out your office. “Okay, okay! I’ll be back though!”

There’s another knock at your door. Glancing at the clock that hangs above your desk, it reads 8:30PM and you could have sworn you told Johnny to go home hours ago. If it wasn’t Johnny, then...

Getting up from the couch full of loose papers and your laptop, you walk up toward the door, swinging it open. “Eunwoo, didn’t I tell you to fuck off—”

“Uh, I take it that the guy in the room earlier was Eunwoo then?”

In a pair of grey sweats and a T-shirt, Junmyeon is standing in your doorframe underneath a baseball cap. In his hands are bags of takeout, raising it up for your viewing once your eyes laid on it.

“What’s this?” You step aside to let him in, watching as he reorganizes the papers on your coffee table and places them onto another part of the couch, setting up the food. “You didn’t seem like you were going to cave into having dinner with that guy, and the launch is happening soon. I figured you’d still be here and skip dinner.”

In all honesty, this is what you would’ve wanted Eunwoo to do. Back when the two of you were dating, you had been stuck in the same scenario— couped up in your office, drowning yourself in paperwork without any time to make back home until the night before the launch day to get ready for the event. You wanted Eunwoo to take notice, doing something similar as to this, bringing food to you instead of forcing you to go out when you didn’t have much time to spare.

“I— I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Junmyeon, really. I was starving, but with how security is at the door at this time of night, delivery would’ve been a bit of a hassle.”

“Don’t sweat it, boss.” He jokes as you sit on the couch and he plops himself onto a seat across from you. “I got you the ramyun you had last time from that place you took me.”

“You did? How’d you remember what I ordered?”

“It was so spicy, I smelt it and sneezed a couple times.” Snapping the disposable chopsticks, he hands you the pair. “Plus, who would forget a name like ‘the Diablo Ramyun’? There’s a picture of a dragon breathing fire right next to the name on the menu.”

Junmyeon kept you company that night. He eventually started reading Webtoon comics on his phone after having dinner, laying on the couch before falling into a deep slumber, mouth agape. Grabbing a spare blanket you kept for nights you spent in your office, you drape it over his body, and pulled off his hat.

He looks angelic like this— albeit he has drool streaming from the sides of his mouth. Not obligated to stay, but nonetheless he did, all because he didn’t want you to be alone or feel lonely. Although you insisted he should go home, he contends, eventually winning the argument by comfortably designating the spot on the couch to himself. 

You don’t miss those soundless nights in your office anymore. Junmyeon’s snoring along with your tumultuous typing sets a new standard of bliss.

It’s been about two months since that night and Junmyeon is frequent in your life. 

He’s on speed-dial when you want to try new restaurants or go to events that are in the city, and he never fails to come by your side to keep you company. Sometimes, his smile catches you off guard, fluttering your heart, but other times, you think he feels as though his presence is necessary because you gave him his dream job.

“So, rumor has it: Junmyeon sleeps over at the office.”

“What makes you say that?” 

Johnny eyes you suspiciously. “Other than the fact that he leaves your office bright and early in the morning with slightly damp hair with an outfit that’s just barely different from the day before?”

Your breath stops, but your fingers continue to tap away at an email. “Does he?”

“So, you sleeping with him?” You stiffen, scowling at your assistant. “No, I am not.”

“What’s he doing in here then?” 

“He just... sleeps over whenever I’m having a late night session.”

“Oh, so you are sleeping with him.”

“Johnny.” You say firmly. “I am not. He just keeps me company ‘cause I’m all by myself here and it’s dark out.”

He’s reclining in the armchair in front of your desk, toes pushing off the ground while rocking the seat. “Why don’t you just ask him out if you like him that much? Why are you wasting your time just... ‘keeping company’ instead of... being his companion.”

“I’m his boss.”

“And? That’s a sexy thing. He might like a strong, self-sufficient woman. Hell—I know I do. But you’re not into me, so I’m gonna help Junmyeon if I can’t help myself.”

Ears now crimson, you admit defeat and lounge in your large work chair with a cumbersome sigh, playing along with his game. “I don’t have time to date.”

“He’s here at least once a week spending the night with you. You have time, and if you don’t, he’ll make the time to be with you.”

Pausing a moment in thought with a hum, you hit the tip of your fingers against the glass desk. “I’m not his type.”

“Oh hush, I see the way he looks at you. He thinks you’re gorgeous.”

Pursing up your lips, you assert, “I don’t believe that. What if I meet my soulmate?”

“Stop doubting your looks, he practically salivates at the sight of you that it’s all over the floor. Also, that soulmate thing? That never stopped you from dating Eunwoo, so why is Junmyeon any different?”

You shrug, playing with the pen in front of you. “His ex dated him and ended up being with her soulmate.”

“You honestly think you’re going to meet your soulmate? Tell me. You were in that research group for a couple years, what’d you gather from that?” If it wasn’t for HR, you’d probably have you hands wrapped around Johnny’s giraffe neck by now.

Back in University, you decided to partake in the Soulmate Research Group for your co-op program, rationalizing that this could help you find your ‘the one.’ The group resulted in slapping you into reality, educating you the chances of finding your soulmate had declined to almost none when considering the probability. It was the worst year of your life, having to come to terms that this fairy-tale that everyone in your life had made love seem was just something that only lucky people got to cooperate in.

“I... yeah, I know. It’s just so many goddamn people met their soulmate already, what about me? What makes me so different from the bunch?”

Johnny says your name, this time sweetly with a tone he never uses. “I never met my soulmate either. But Junmyeon is almost hitting 30, right? Imagine how he’s feeling. He can’t even get laid by a pretty girl that he sleeps in her office for on the most uncomfortable couch, let alone find his soulmate.”

“Do you like me?”

“What kind of question is that?” He glances at you quizzically, fixating his attention back under the hood of your car, twisting off the cap of your car sump, checking the oil levels. An oil light had popped onto the dashboard a couple days ago and you texted Junmyeon what he recommended to do, only for him to dispute that he’d check it himself.

“I don’t know, just answer it. Do you like me?”

He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief as he wipes the oil rod with a rag. “Of course I like you. Why else would I hang out with you and change your oil?”

“No,” You groan, leaning against your front headlights, slouching in annoyance. “Like... not as a friend. As a woman. More than a friend, someone you want to date.”

He stands, slack-jawed. 

“Listen— I totally get if you don’t see me in that way, but Johnny said he saw the way you looked at me, and I figured, ‘hey, why not try to ask him out’ so—“

“Of course I see you that way. Who doesn’t? I kind of just assumed you weren’t into me since you were always rejecting my advances.”

“Advances?”

Lifting up the dirty rag in his greasy, stained hands, the sides of his mouth twitches upwards. “Like I said, why would I change your oil? Plus, how many nights have I slept in your office on that god awful couch? I also have a toothbrush in your bathroom. And spare underwear. Need I say more?”

Chewing on your bottom lip and watching as he finishes up, closing the hood of your car, you tap your shoes anxiously against the concrete ground. “Can I ask you something else?”

“What is it?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You can already imagine how difficult showering is going to be later, but with Junmyeon’s plush lips pressed against yours, how could you complain about his tarnished hands underneath the fabric of your shirt, caressing the skin of your waist?

Guiding your hips to sit onto the hood of your car, your arms snake around his neck, playing with the longer strands of his hair that brush against his nape. The way he kisses feels like he’s going to suck the air out of your lungs but you couldn’t care less— you finally had him in your embrace and you weren’t going to let go.

He’s amiable, even though it’s contradicting that he’s tugging on your lower lip between his teeth, your lips swollen and plump from the aggressive make-out session. He doesn’t push too far, just right where you’re comfortable, especially when you’re in your opened garage out for your neighbors to see. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed but he’s already claimed the territory in the middle of your legs, towing you close with a grip on your thighs. Placing the palm of his hands on either side of you on the car, he grins cheekily after pulling out of the kiss, heavy pants against each other’s face.

“Did my boss just make-out with me?” You slap his chest, rolling your eyes in unison. “Stop it. I know you’re enjoying this, I feel it.” Wrapping your arms around his lower frame, you pull him close, pressing your crotch against his as his groans. “Now you stop it. I’m not taking you here.”

Junmyeon is a gentleman. He declares that he wouldn’t be taking you anywhere near the bedroom until he takes you out on a proper date, in spite of the fact that you both had broken his rule of no kissing and no sex before a date. 

If you thought that you had everything you wanted before, you were wrong. Not until you met him.

“I met my soulmate.”

Straightening the paperwork on your desk, pretending to preoccupy yourself from this conversation and stay cool, you place the manila envelopes flat back on your desk, eyes eventually locked on the figure in your office. “Okay?”

“This means we can’t go back to what we ever were again...”

Feelings of uncertainty arise in your stomach—it’s obvious it’s jealousy. Was it because he found his soulmate and he was never coming back or that you haven’t even met yours? 

Eunwoo stands in the middle of the room, hands in the pockets of his dress pants, contemplating what to say next. 

“We’re not together anymore.”

He knows this—he knows this so well with the amount of times you remind him that it’s embedded in his brain, nonetheless in the general picture of things, Eunwoo always thought that you’d find your way back home and into his arms. He’d tell you this, despite the amount of times you’ve rejected him, but hearing now that he really won’t come back because he has a soulmate hits different. 

Maybe Eunwoo had been a back-up plan. There’s never 100% bliss in a relationship, and you never saw yourself getting married to him and having kids but the thought of having Eunwoo in the back of your head meant that even if you didn’t find ‘the one,’ Eunwoo would be the replacement. It sounds fuck-up, it all sounded fucked-up but who would love a woman who ran an entire company by herself and barely have time for anyone else in her life?

“It means... I officially can’t come back to you anymore and you can’t expect for me to fall back into your hands like putty. I’m done... but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you anymore.”

“I know, Eunwoo.”

“It’s just— it’s my soulmate.”

“Don’t miss out on that opportunity.” You say sternly. 

Thwarted by your reaction, he snaps. “I’m so sick of this. I should’ve just given up sooner—I’ve been in your life for 6 years, we dated for 3, and you can’t even be happy for me? You can’t even tell me that you still love me although you’re the one who left me?”

Head dropping onto the back of your chair, you close your eyes for a moment. “Eunwoo, I’ll always love you, I never thought I had to remind you of that. But we never worked out, we stopped clicking after a year in. We’re on different pages, we’re doing different things, and I never had the time to spend with you anymore.”

“It wasn’t that you never had the time, you never made time.”

“Don’t say that. I didn’t have time. You never made the effort to spend it with me.”

“What?” He says sharply. “Tell me, what could I have done differently? I want to hear it?”

Running your fingers through your strands of hair frustratedly, you grumble in discontent. “I wanted you to be here with me on those nights I spent in the office. I wanted to have dinner with you here, but you always insisted we go out. I wanted you to be part of my projects, do things with me because we’re in the same field, yet you couldn’t even do that. I wanted you to be around and try in other ways even if it was hard to spend time with each other.”

“You’re the one who stopped trying!”

“I stopped trying when I saw how much effort you were putting into meeting these girls instead of me! How do you think I feel when you’re out buying coffee and delivering it to your co-worker? You couldn’t even do that for me.”

Clenching his jaw, he gives you a look before saying his last words. “You’re right. Maybe we weren’t right for each other.” As he’s walking toward the doors existing your office, you silently say, “She was your soulmate, wasn’t she? The co-worker.”

He turns to look at you, eyes sudden soft compared to moments ago. You were right. You’re always right.

Junmyeon is handsome in this lighting but it’s difficult to focus on the date with your argument with your ex from earlier.

He planned everything for the night—the lights, the picnic blanket, and wicker basket filled with delicious foods that he had cooked himself, a skill that he had been trying to improve lately since his roommate, Kyungsoo, had left for the military, and Chanyeol moved out to live with his soulmate. 

Pulling out two wine glasses, following with a bottle, he pops the cork out before pouring some into yours. “So, what’s on your mind?” Snapping back into reality, you laugh awkwardly, rubbing your arm.

“I’m sorry? Did you say something and I missed it? Nothing’s on my mind.”

“No, something is definitely up in there. I can see it in your face.” Handing the glass to you, he’s taking out the rest of the food from the basket; he’d packed everything from kimchi to kimbap, even cheese and deli meats. There was also pie— jesus, did he have to try so hard to get to your heart? You would be melting in his affection at this point if your head wasn’t so occupied.

“Uh... honestly, there’s something. But I’m not really in the mood to talk about it because it might ruin our date.”

“I’m afraid it would ruin our date if you don’t say anything.” He raises a brow.

Shoulders dropping in defeat, you take a sip of your wine for a boost of confidence. “Fine, fine. Eunwoo met his soulmate.”

Junmyeon nods, lips pursed. “Ah, I see. And you always thought that if it didn’t work out with someone else, you’d at least have Eunwoo?”

You freeze.

How’d he know that?

Almost like he read your thoughts, he’s speaking as he’s unraveling the plastic off the plates and containers. “I can kind of tell. You never fully pushed him away. If you didn’t want him in your life at all, you would’ve asked Johnny and the building to kick him out once he went through the lobby doors. Never happened— he’s even on your calendar for lunch, even if you don’t go.”

“You’re rather observant, aren’t you?”

“So I’ve been told.” He grins, taking your hand and giving it a light kiss. “Listen, I understand. Does it have to do with the soulmate thing?”

“A bit...” 

He shakes his head in condemnation, gaze drifting off at the sun that slowly begins to set in the horizon. “I hope you’re not upset because of me just because my ex left me for her soulmate. Not everyone meets their soulmate, you know? So if you met whomever it is, I’d want you to be with them.”

Ugh, Junmyeon is the epitome of a perfect man. It had been a thought that was on your mind recently, although you knew your chances of meeting your soulmate was slim, there was always that chance. 

“Thank you, Junmyeon. I feel the same way about you, you know.” With that, he nods in agreement before sticking a fork into the cheese, lifting it up to your lips. “Less talking about sad stuff now. Cheese?” With a smile, you comply with his offer and open your mouth.

The sun has long disappeared for the night and his friend, the moon, makes an appearance. Junmyeon is even more beautiful under the moonlight, if possible, laying on the blanket with his head resting on his arm as he admires the stars in the sky. 

Dinner was amazing— Junmyeon never fails to impress. You have to thank Chanyeol’s soulmate later on for going back to him because if it wasn’t for their bonding, you would’ve never actually met him. The previous year had taken a toll on you; the constant traveling from Japan, China, and Korea was deteriorating your health that you’d spend most of time in your office. Junmyeon didn’t even meet you until about two months ago. 

Your mind wanders off. Questions like: ‘how did Chanyeol meet his soulmate’ and ‘what stopped him from wanting to get to know the girl’ or ‘did any of your other friends meet their soulmate’ all flooded your head. You figured the night had been going so well you’d avoid the topic of soulmate and save those questions for another time. After what seemed like a moment, another inquiry lights a bulb over your head.

“Wait... we never talked about this before, but do you have a marking?”

“Of course,” He looks at you confusingly. “We all have markings.”

“But I never saw yours, and you never saw mine.” You clarify, and he nods at your statement. “Well, okay, yes, that’s true. Did you want to see it? Where’s yours?”

“On my hip-bone.” You respond, tugging down on the fabric at the hem of your shirt gingerly. Eyes bulging at your response, his body tenses. “What?”

Meticulously lifting the end of his shirt up, there’s a daisy that sits on his hip-bone and you finally understand why he’s giving you such a strange reaction. Mimicking his actions, you show him yours— a daisy.

[stxrrywildflower]

replacement

pairing - emily prentiss x reader

summary - you’re nervous around emily for more reasons than one

warning - angst with fluff

word count - ?

after emily has taken a position at interpol in london, strauss had assigned you to join the bau team.

it took a little bit for everyone to warm up to you, especially after getting emily back just to lose her again. but, the team soon grew to love you as one of their own. with no forseable transfers, you all bonded greatly and many traditions such as dinners at rossi’s and other events became more and more common.

on the team, you were closest with morgan with reid as a close second. you and morgan both had mutual interests and often went on morning runs together. the two of you became an unstoppable duo when chasing down unsubs. for you and reid, intelligence and reading were your common interests. oftentimes, the two of you could be found downtown at a local coffee shop or library.

walking into work one morning, you tossed your bag at your desk before following morgan over to get coffee. garcia met you both before taking a seat at the table. moments like these before either paperwork or a case were some of your favorite.

but alas, you couldn’t sit and drink your coffee while taking about workplace gossip forever. garcia returned to her own space while you and morgan sat down at your desks which were opposite of each other.

after completing many files of your own paperwork, morgan asked you to help him fill out something with the last case as you two were the most actively involved. you leaned over his desk with your back to the glass doors, resting one arm on the edge as you pointed out the details.

the room practically stopped. you felt eyes burning into the back of your skull as well as gazes on the front of the bullpen.

you stood back up as morgan turned his chair. your eyes widened slightly as you noticed strauss as well as none other then emily prentiss walking into the bullpen. morgan noticed your discomfort upon seeing the person you had replaced and stood up beside you.

the director and interpol agent began walking through the bullpen, obviously with the intent of going up to hotch’s office. however, they both stopped in front of you.

“agent y/n,” strauss greeted. you nodded respectfully as a response. “stay in the general vicinity, i’ll need to speak to you in a bit.” with that, strauss and press it’s headed up the stairs and to your boss’s office.

your mouth opened slightly as you began to internally panic. as the door to hotch’s office was closed, you immediately exited the bullpen, needing to calm down. morgan and reid shared a look before they too stood up and followed you out.

as soon as you entered garcia’s lair, she knew something was wrong. the technical anyalist spun around in her chair just in time to see you run your hand through your hair. morgan and reid entered and sat down on the couch just as you started pacing.

“alright what’s going on?” penelope asked. “prentiss is back,” derek revealed.

you groaned. “it’s not just that. she’s with strauss and they’re talking to hotch. most likely to replace me,” you spoke before the words could even process. your hands moved up to your mouth.

“oh my god she’s back to replace me. i mean why else would she be back? i’m going to be transfered. oh my god,” you ranted feeling extremely overwhelmed.

penelope shot the two men a look before standing up. “hey hey, you are not going to be replaced, we won’t let it happen. yes, we do love emily but there is no way in hell she is going to take you without a fight,” garcia spoke, placing her hands on your shoulder.

you pressed your lips and nodded as you moved your hands up to rest on her wrists. a knock on the door broke the four of you out of your slight conversation. j.j. opened the door, “hey, strauss needs to see you.”

with a final smile to the group, which they returned, you followed your fellow profiler out of the room and back into the bullpen.

after you knocked on hotch’s office door, you opened it and walked in. hotch was sitting at his desk while strauss was in the chair opposite of him. emily, however, was standing against a window.

“welcome agent y/n, please take a seat,” strauss greeted.

you held your hand up slightly as to say you were okay. after situating yourself so you were leaning against one of the shelves, strauss finally spoke up.

“agent prentiss has recently expressed her interest in reinstating with this unit. obviously, you were the profiler we brought in to replace her,” strauss started. you swallowed nervously, scared about where this conversation was about to go. “however, your performance with the team has been more than satisfactory. so, agent prentiss will be rejoining this unit and you will remain in your current position.

a slight wave of relief flooded over you. “seven agents on one team? isn’t that uncommon, especially for our division?” you asked.

strauss nodded. “yes it is. but we feel as though adding another agent would be nothing but beneficial for your team, especially with the amount of traveling you all do.”

“with all due respect ma’am, it is nice that a former agent is returning but why am i in this meeting?” you questioned. “well, agent hotchner and i suspect that there may be some tension between the two of you. it is complete understandable as y/n you may feel slightly threatened by agent prentiss’s return and vice versa.”

you had to admit, strauss was right. “which is why for the next week, pending on if we have a case, you two need to spend minimum of an hour and a half to two hours together,” this time hotch spoke.

both you and emily scoffed. “isn’t that almost childlike?” emily asked. you agreed, it felt like two parents desperately trying to make their kids become friends.

“this team needs to function as one. now head out, i’ll let you know if we get a case,” hotch added.

with one final nod to strauss, you exited the office, emily right behind you. “i’ll go grab my bag and then we can head out. are you up for coffee?” emily asked. you nodded, “coffee sound great.”

morgan noticed your stressed expression as you stood at your desk and let at a sigh. the older agent didn’t say anything but instead got up and pulled you into a hug.

emily returned only moments later, stopping a few steps behind as she noticed the platonic moment between you and morgan. once pulling away, you too grabbed you’re bag.

“ready to go?” emily asked.

you nodded before following her out. the two of you took your car, finding street parking rather quickly and deciding to walk the next couple blocks instead. very few words were exchanged as the two of you walked.

once arriving at the cafe, you held open the door with warm smile on your face. emily thanked you and stepped inside. the cafe was pretty much empty, just the workers behind the counter and a few college students scattered at different tables.

after you both ordered, you and emily slid into one of the booths in the corner. honestly, neither were sure how to start a conversation. however, emily soon found a interesting topic to bring up.

“so you and derek,” she started. you did everything in your power to not burst out laughing but a giggle slipped through. a bright blush formed on your cheeks as you noticed emily’s amused smile.

“never in a million years. we’re just friends. besides, i don’t play for his team,” you commented.

emily opened her mouth to respond but was cut off when a waiter brought over your drinks. “thank you,” you spoke.

as the two of you drank your coffee, a conversation was held. sure, it was still slightly awkaward as emily still intimated you an insane amount. by the end, you two had returned to quantico, happy with your first outing.

____

for the next week or so, you and emily continued to spend your usual time together as per the orders of hotch.

most of the time it was going out to lunch since emily was still apartment hunting for her official move back to washington d.c. however, on the last day of your mandatory hangouts, you invited her over to your apartment for dinner.

you felt more comfortable around your fellow profiler to the extent of developing a slight crush. you found out through garcia that, in her own words, emily was in fact a ‘raging lesbian.’

just when you thought everything was going well with the team, a comment you overheard in the break room immediately crushed every positive feeling you had. it was totally accidental and you knew it was just speculation.

“you really think they’re going to allow aaron hotchner’s team to keep all their agents?”

“absolutely not. they would definitely transfer y/n to get back prentiss for good. especially after the whole doyle thing.”

“true. i’m sure strauss will say something soon.”

“of course.”

sure, strauss had promised that there would be no more transfers with emily’s return but something about the way the two men spoke didn’t make you so sure. naturally, once taking note of it, emily decided to confront you.

after arriving to your apartment, you didn’t even bother taking your shoes off and instead tossed your bag down before taking your hair out of the style you did for work.

emily did the same before turning to you. “what’s going on with you recently?” you stopped at the sudden interrogation. emily was persistent and took a step towards you. in return, you stepped back, stopping when you hit the wall. your fellow profiler followed until she was just a foot or so away.

“why are you so afraid of me y/n?” emily asked, her breath hot on your skin. just the way she pronounced your name made butterflies form in your stomach.

“i’m not,” you protested, internally cursing when your voice wavered slightly. “i’ve only known you for a week.”

the woman smirked, making your heart flutter, “something tells me it’s more than that.” emily moved even closer, your bodies just inches away from each other. you kept your hands behind your back, pressed firmly against the wall.

with every ounce of adrenalin you had, you placed your hands firmly on her hips before flipping her around so she was now against the wall. emily let out a suprised gasp and moved her hands up to your cheeks. “what happened to only knowing me for a week?” she asked, a smirk on her face.

“i don’t even care,” you spoke before pressing your lips firmly to hers.

who knew that a crush you had just realized four days ago would turn into a full blown make out session against a wall. without pulling away, you and emily stumbled through your apartment before falling onto the couch.

emily was pretty much on top of you, grinning brightly as she pressed her forehead to yours. “god your gorgeous,” she complimented. you bit your lip before connecting your lips together once again.

just as emily had started to kiss your jawline, both of your phones went off. you groaned and threw your head back against the pillow.

“it was only a matter of time,” you groaned.

after placing one final kiss to your lips, emily climbed off of you, extending her hand to help you up. “are we going to tell them?”

you shook your head no. “i think we should have a little bit of fun,” you grinned before taking her hand in yours and exiting your apartment once again.

[oldguy56-world]

Stand By Me

The topic today is not about loyalty. It is not about love. It is not about friendship. We are going to look at the world of back up singers. There have been many notable groups over the years. Gladys Knight had her Pips, Martha had her Muffins and Dianna Ross was a Supreme, then she had the Supremes backing her up, and then they disappeared. (messy stuff). Full disclosure I always wanted to be a back up singer. Less pressure. I can see myself as one of Gladys’ Pips but I am much too hairy to be a Muffin. (Don’t let that image linger in your head please. Too late? Sorry.)

It would be great going through life having a back up group with you at all times. Someone asks you if you like their cooking and  you say it is so good. Back-ups say ‘SO GOOD, SO GOOD, SO GOOD.’ This really emphasizes the point and is especially appropriate if the person you are responding to is named Caroline.

If you have to deliver bad news it really helps lessen the hurt if the message is accompanied with some ‘Shoo wops” or even just some falsetto harmonization. You are playing baseball and you hit the ball. When rounding first do you want to hear an old guy say ‘Go go go’ pointing to second or have a group of guys saying ‘Da do run run run, da do run run’ while they are pointing at 2nd.

You get the point. Back up singers can add to the moment. Unfortunately some very big stars made the wrong choices for back up groups. My crack team has done extensive research on the subject. Yes, I now have enough followers to employ a crack research team. Well I am not actually paying them anything yet as I am still classifying them as interns so the work is voluntary while they gain very valuable experience learning from me.

Here is what they found. (Please be gentle. This was their first assignment) I have listed the names of some singers and their back ups. We are also providing some insight as to why they parted ways. File this info away in case you are ever on Jeopardy. Might be the daily double or final answer and worth big bucks.

- Elvis and the Pelvi. Average singers with some very innovative moves. Not just too innovative for TV. No. They would...ah...then they’d...ah. Let’s just say some of their choreography landed them in prison. Good news is they  inspired ‘Jailhouse Rock’. Don’t believe it? Read the lyrics near the end of the song. Kind of creepy.

- Prince and the Paupers. Talented group. Left because they weren’t being paid. Prince said it was to keep them in character for the act. 

- Reggie Dwight and the Men in Tights. Their signature costume was a onesie leotard. Excellent coordinated moves. He went on to become Elton John. Didn’t need their services anymore. Apparently they were all ‘Tiny Dancers’.

- Madonna and the Virgins. Lasted 2 days into their first tour then they all lost the opportunity to live up to their group name. She was smart enough to not call herself one right from the start. The rest is history. Remember she only sang ‘Like a Virgin’. Smart woman.

- Bob Dylan and the Weed. This one is a little confusing as none of the interns could ever find evidence of them being on stage with him but the name cropped up a lot of times so there must be a link. Some evidence showed there may have been a crossover connection with Bob Marley.

Shout out to Michael Jackson and ‘The New Faces’. The Mystery of what happened still lives on.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: it is a good idea to spend time with those that share your vision and values. Much less stressful.

[doakaptan]

what's up with mad men

honestly what the hell is going on with the show mad men; I try to figure a 7 season show 5 episodes in...

Good morning, good evening, whats up, hello, let’s get into it because I did not understand a  thing from the 5 episodes I watched and I need to talk about it somewhere (basically the group chat is not answering so I will talk to myself). 

also spoilers(????) i guess. 

Mad men was a show that aired on CNBCE in Turkey and it frequented the midnight section of the channel making it obvious that it was an adult show. Hence the reason why I’m accustomed to the visuals so much. But fortunately I did not watch it while it was airing and had to watch it now for an assignment. I’m sure if I had watched it while I was between the ages 10-13 there would be consequences.

I watched the first episode for the assignment and 4 more to understand just what the hell was happening but I’m still a bit lost. First of all why is nobody communicating in 60s? Is it because of the new and upcoming technology being scary or is it because men had to have sticks showed up at their asses in the 60s or, is because they are simply cold blooded corporate men? 

The main character is Don Draper, a great name for the charismatic ***** magnet he is. We get to know him as the star of his company. He is quick witted, charismatic and a person to both admire and get jealous of. He is also very attractive so there’s that. It almost seems like he is the stereotypical perfect guy with commitment issues on the side BUT as the episodes go along he starts to feel like someone who is not likeable in the slightest, still, I wish I had his job.

(did i mention how the first episode ends with him going back to his wife and kids after fucking around that much yeah)

The plot is a bit foggy I think we are just watching how Don’s life is falling apart slowly and I’m guessing the later seasons will be about how he redeems himself and picks up the pieces. Overall, I am really uncomfortable with the patriarchy, racism and the anti-semitism that is showcased and knowing it was once (and still is) real I am depressed thank you very much. 

Women on the show are not the mess with though. Especially the ones that chase after careers that are not yet available to them. The show makes a sharp distinction between the women who ‘chose’ to get married and the ones who were ‘forced’ to get jobs. Married women almost act like they have been brainwashed to be the way they are which is scary but accurate. Don’s wife Betty seems to be content with not working and looking after the kids and gossiping all day long but things are not as it seems and I think she knows more than she lets on. Still, I think Betty is a character that chooses to ignore the obvious just to keep up the image of happiness, also she is definitely going to die. It’s a hunch and I don’t want to get spoilers but I feel like the frozen hands thing is more than anxiety. There are also permanent strong characters like Joan and Peggy. Peggy is the new girl and therefore she is an eye candy while Joan is the object of desire in the office and uses it to her advantage. I would say Peggy is the small town girl with a massive pride and Joan is a maneater. The men at the office are portrayed as predatory (which they are btw) but Joan uses it to her advantage while Peggy is a bit goody two-shoes and wants to get everything straight all the time. 

Honestly Peggy save yourself from these men girl I am begging you.

The office men... Especially Pete Campbell what the hell, and, his group of bozos fuck you. I usually love it when a bunch of losers flock together but this might be a little too toxic for me. Pete is more reoccurring from the rest so I hate him the most but the others are just as worse. They feel like a frat that moved onto professional jobs together and forgot to grow up. 

Pete has severe daddy issues and we see him struggle to feel good about himself because he is aware that what he does is not that much and I’m suspecting that he’s aware that the only reason he has the job is because of his family’s connections. He is jealous of Don and wants his job but I don’t think his problem is really about Don. He just wants to show daddy and mommy and the bozos he thinks he is above that he is worth more than they think. Which, for now, is not true, he is a loser if I’ve ever seen one. Also goddamn treat your wife right for once she isn’t there to be the one who handles your temper tantrums. 

While we are on the topic, why do I need to know the lore about Pete’s wife, what was it Trutie? I don’t care about this woman’s rocky love life with her ex. I get that Pete has nothing going on for him and this is the nail in his coffin.

Lastly, almost every episode ends with an establishing shot and I’m all for it. tell me things that will unravel soon into the season but I don’t understand yet. Feed me the chaos. Tell me things will only get worse for Don. Get me all stressed and tense about made up characters’ future. I love it. 

(also I love the art director being gay good for him good for him)

(also plz help me how can i stop being attracted to Don, i need help)

[yooleestruck]

in which lee rambles about how great writers are

I don’t really know what this is. I don’t know if now is the right time to do this, or a really bad time, or if it makes any sense, but I want to talk about it! I feel like a broken record saying ‘the writing matters most, the writing matters most’ but maybe I need to show what I mean by that? So, here is an attempt. 

I’m sorry not all of these are the same length and not everyone is here, because every time I see that someone is a writer I do try to follow but I don’t always know/remember! Also I am weird about this sort of thing and don’t want to tag people in a monster-long post, so I’m just going to link. I also don’t want to make this a producers vs writers thing, it’s not, it’s just, when I say I notice writer-stuff, an explanation of what, specifically, I mean. 

Writers have a style fingerprint. I’m sure someone with an actual creative writing or English background could describe it all academic-ly, but my ex-chemist ass is just going to call it a fingerprint. 

My first game in Lovestruck was Starship Promise - I love Firefly, I’m a bisexual disaster scientist by education, it fit. But I had been REALLY put off by GIL when it first came out (this was back when they released stories in parts? And the heroine, which I will get to) and though I’d glanced at AFK, I mistrusted it after GIL and Medusa, who was who I was interested in, wasn’t out yet. So I resisted a LONG time.  I finally picked up LS and SP and played it explicitly because a friend said, you need to give this another chance, for a list of specific reasons. 

And when Atlas’s route came out, I read it a stupid number of times. I must have re-read his season 1 & 2 at least eight times apiece (he is still my most read route, despite the fact I have not read his last season because I want to leave the story open-ended)  so when I read Neil Dresner’s route, I recognized the fingerprint. Not only that, when I was reading Jett and the episodes with the paint scene (YOU KNOW THE SCENE) came out, my breath caught with how lovely it was, a particular in-between moment and touch, and even though it wasn’t a phrase I had seen, the style of it, had me re-reading (because it was gorgeous) again and again from the log for like five minutes and I thought, “I bet Melissa wrote this” AND SHE DID. 

Physical touch! (& in-betweens)

Melissa-grey has a particular way of writing about physical touch in very emotional moments that is very real and grounded and ironically the effect is just magical. It creates these so skillful “in between” moments, those little things that aren’t dialogue and aren’t metaphor but SHOW you that this closed off person is cracking for their little ray of sunshine. They are SO subtle and so beautiful, like, the heroine noticing the scent of a pillow, or a softening of an aborted hand movement.  She sets up and executes these moments of physical touch as a conduit for emotional touch with characters who aren’t ready to admit he latter and it’s DELICIOUS. Those little in-betweens are what I live for in story - and it includes all the supporting cast moments, who swell up to make the world feel lived in, and balanced (I loathe love stories where no one else exists! That’s a recipe for disaster, people need networks) I noticed when she stopped writing, and because I missed it, I went and bought the entire Midnight Girl series, as well as Rated (I hope that is flattering and not creepy!) and that style of writing is so unique, that without KNOWING, I picked it up in four separate routes (noticed in Sev’s s1, too!) 

Pacing (& friggen heartache)

Another fingerprint! Ripping your heart out! Arthoure has had me in tears, MULTIPLE TIMES and I get very grouchy about it every time because I am the least sentimental and romantic person that I know (I once MOVED STATES to avoid an ‘I love you’ conversation. I once said ‘yikes’ in response to an ‘I love you’ and I once broke up with someone because I thought he was going to propose. I’m a bitch) but I think it’s because of pacing! I know that producers play a role in that, but that actually makes it more impressive, because making each bit of story feel like it fits precisely the amount of space it needs when you don’t really get a say in how much space that is has got to take a MASSIVE amount of effort. Every little hint, every emotional beat, every character tell, they drop at a consistent build so the emotional payoff is just brutal (in a good, cathartic way?) every time a route makes me cry I wait and see and YEAH ITS ALWAYS ARTHOURE. The sweep and sentiment of Remy’s season 2 is unparalleled. Across Time is gutwrenching, and I actually stopped reading Renzei at one point because I was so emotional over it I had to like, LEGIT TAKE A BREAK to recover. Pacing and heartache. I have to stop and wonder - is it because the routes themselves are so gut-punching? OR is it because she knows how to wring every last emotional drop out of whatever story framework is handed to her? Because, Ezekiel’s villain costume is a bit silly (there I said it, it is) I get the cobra helmet shape in theory but in practice, ooof, but POINT BEING despite being skeptical I’d be able to take his story seriously as a result, I was hiccuping from crying so much (and I am gosh darn adult, in my thirties, with three degrees and a high-stress job at pretty major company. I DON’T CRY EASY)

 Dialogue (& heroines!)

Xekstrin is the gosh damn master of dialogue. Clever, witty banter that doesn’t go where you expect it to, meandering but natural topic changes that are delightful to follow and feel real, and--special shoutout for this, okay--the navigation of viscerally important topics like consent, kink, self-worth, power in relationships, self-sacrifice, and apologies in a way that is not stilted or forced at all (listen, I know Viv & Lyris are the most recent and they are amazing but I remember this first hit me when I was reading Astraeus, and I spent half the route with my jaw on the floor going, oh shit,  oh shit. The communication! The navigation of the complexity of emotion going on, chef’s kiss! Casual isn’t the right word, but, natural, maybe?). I don’t actually take that many screenshots of the app--it’s usually single lines that get me--but when I do, they are almost always conversations from one of her routes, because they’re so damn good, and often so unexpected, and yet always make such perfect sense for the characters involved. Dialogue is SO HARD OKAY. Actually try and transcribe a conversation sometime, it’s nuts how people talk vs how most people write people talking. Xekstrin also writes some of my absolute favorite MCs, and going back to fingerprints, I was reading Lyris s1 and right there in the first tavern scene, as we were following along with the heroine’s thoughts I went, ah, yes, I know who you belong to and I am SO EXCITED. Being able to give the heroine unique thoughts and quirks, to make her genuinely relatable, without overriding the necessary template of the genre dictates, is a skill all of its own. But I love her MCs! There is a beautiful balance of compassion, competence, and dash of bratty, wild, fun mischief. I can actually cheer for them. I can actually get behind them. I WANT the love interest to flop at their feet for who they are, not just because the story says so. And that comes from how the heroine’s thoughts are written, from her phrasing in conversations, how she sees situations, not just a producer saying ‘she is a strong lead who is self conscious about her ears and she’s nervous in the council meeting’ or whatever. I AM REALLY STRUGGLING to articulate this if you can’t tell from how long I have been blathering. Maybe this - the heroine is the same across every route, presumably, yes? Everyone has the same base. I NEVER question, when xekstrin is writing, why the love interest falls in love with her. Side note - I had hard written off GIL after a bad experience with the standalone app. I only read Aurora BECAUSE I learned she wrote it, and I would have SO MISSED OUT otherwise.

A complete aside in which Lee grumbles about heroines and not writers!

(Complete side vent: Often, the heroine is, if not a blank slate, a sort of collection of assigned traits, and she often remains so unless the story demands she become otherwise. Which is fine! I don’t personally, but I know a lot of folks self-insert, and so erring towards that makes sense. Almost all the otome I’ve played were originally written for a Japanese audience. When I played original Voltage games, starting back in 2014, I always had to remind myself - different culture, different culture, different culture, and it was not possible for me to relate to most of the heroines. I still enjoyed the stories, but I rarely cheered for the heroine’s romance, especially in some of the slice of life stories. I understood her, but I rarely wanted her to get with the love interest, I wanted her success to come in other ways! Another game company, Cybird, tried to ‘Americanize’ their heroine to IMO disastrous effect - it was such a stereotype, and made no sense since they didn’t also Americanize the context, so she come across as, frankly, ridiculous. And frankly, Voltage’s GIL heroine REEKED OF THAT. When they first posted her on social media I was legitimately annoyed about it, like could you lean into this more? I think not. So when I talk about being able to relate to and cheer for the heroine, it’s a big deal, because my blatant mistrust of Voltage and their ability to craft a heroine I could tolerate was a BIG factor in how long it took me to give Lovestruck a try. I was willing to tolerate it in translated stories, I was so skeptical of -en only ones.) 

Metaphors (& balance)

literacouture writes beautiful metaphors for connection between humans! I’m really bad at keeping track of who writes what, but I purposefully kept an eye out on tumblr after reading Cal’s route, because there were some lines that were pure poetry, and I wanted to keep an eye out for more. It is HARD to spin metaphors prettily without delving into trite, painful, purple prose cringe territory, and it’s navigated beautifully in Cal’s route. There’s a balance between those spin-out moments and things that are tangible and anchoring and make it feel authentic and unique to the two characters involved, instead of just ‘I am trying to make this sound romantic and this is a romantic phrase so here it is’. That balance is really necessary. You NEED the mundane alongside the metaphor or it doesn’t feel authentic. Also. Trying really hard to write this without throwing any authors or producers under the bus, but...listen. I love Sin with Me. But the world logic (or LACK THEREOF) drives me up a wall. I don’t read Cal because of his character traits or sprite or (sigh) his story. I read him because literacouture writes a beautiful romance.

 So anyway...

There are more! When I am less tired and don’t have meetings, I will try and write them up (Please know there are so many routes I love, and so many things I do recognize across chapters! I don’t even HAVE words for what theivorytowercrumbles accomplished with Helena’s story not to mention how much I adore Cyprin,  SummerLightning’s handling of Onyx’s past relationship was so deftly done when it could have so quickly become ‘milk abuse for plot’ and joidecombat gave Sev a fresh, mischievous energy and navigated the dream/reality line with SUCH skill, and so on and so on.)

I’ve written a lot of reviews. And I try to give nods where I feel they’re due - sometimes, it really is obvious that the whole team’s work came together to makes something great, the world, the plot, the arc, the art, the words, and the music all fit into place in a  well-crafted tour de force. And sometimes one piece or another is lacking, and I’ll admit I’ve left some...less than kind reviews to that end (I try and soften it, because I know there are humans on the other side of everything, but I’ve been harsh more than once with my opinions).  I’ve read routes with plots that made me want to tear my hair out because I DO value consistency and logic to a degree, even if I’m going to accept at face value that, say, space travel is a thing or demons turn to sand when stabbed. 

In the end, these are romance stories. So I will let a lot slide when it comes to plot. What sells a story are the words - not the outline.

And if Voltage doesn’t believe that - just remember that Hamlet existed long, long before Shakespeare wrote it. His was the version that lasted, because the people liked it best. The plot, the world, the characters, they all existed a hundred times over. Even just look at fan translations of manga. Why do people keep translating, even if someone else has? Because the words someone else picked don’t do the story justice. 

I don’t know. I’m talking in circles because I don’t know my own thesis! 

Maybe it’s just - the worlds these stories in are nice. But when I say I’m a fan of something, the premise is like. 10%. The rest is the writing. 

[arknights-imagines]

The Sankta Sniper Trio reacting and dealing with having feelings for the Doctor

Headcanon/note format; From the perspective of the Operators

Contains: Gender neutral Doctor, Executor, Exusiai and Adnachiel

Word count: 3k in total

And so the imagines begin! I wanted to start off small, so please enjoy~

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

Executor

･ The man may seem emotionless, but he was definitely not unfeeling.

･ With that being said, Executor has trouble with emotions, so chances are he won't even really understand why he's feeling the way he is. That doesn't stop it from showing, though.

･ It would be hard to spot if you're not looking for it, but the Sankta slowly starts to be seen with the Doctor more.

･ He made an extra effort to interact with the Doctor more on the daily. He'd greet the Doctor in the hallway, approach them about battle formations or mission plans, or even stops to ask them how they are occasionally.

･ Executor started getting into the habit of having the Doctor in the corner of his eye at all times. The Doctor was his boss, so their well-being mattered. The Sankta was cold, but he was a lot kinder than he stated he was.

･ If someone had to enter the Doctors' office while they're busy, they'd have to get approval from him first. If the Doctor looked tired, he'd encourage them to rest. If they were working on something important, he made himself free to help them.

･ Vermeil was the first to notice something going on with him, especially when his attention snaps to the Doctor if they happen to be nearby during their training sessions. She was a bit hesitant about it, but because no one else would, she eventually brought it up.

･ "...do you have a thing for the Doctor?"

･ Executor doesn't get what she's saying at first; it's clear by the lift of his brow when he looks at her.

･ "I'm afraid I do not understand what you mean by that."

･ After a string of huffs from Vermeil, she elaborated,

･ "Hmph. Do you, you know, like them? You have any feelings for them?"

･ Executor was quiet for a moment, pausing for longer than usual. Though, all he gave in reply was another question.

･ "That is a good question."

･ Factually speaking, it would be a likely possibility, he concluded. He wasn't good at understanding emotions, but the Sankta knew that what he was feeling was more than just respect for the Doctor.

･ Executor thought about it more after that - it wouldn't be that he didn't understand, it would more so be that he wouldn't know how to act on it - if he acted on it at all. So, he didn't; He just kept being at their side, ready when they needed him.

･ Vermeil approached him again about it some other day.

･ "So...did you tell them yet?"

"Tell who what?"

"The Doctor, that you like them."

･ He didn't argue with Vermeil claiming he didn't harbour some kind of feelings toward the Doctor, so he shook his head and told her 'no'. Executor wasn't that great at reading people, but judging by Vermeil's exasperated expression following his reply, he couldn't go on ignoring his feelings forever.

･ It would take time for him to take any action. The Doctor was supposed to just be the one he answered to; His promise to them was to complete any task assigned to him, and that was what was expected of him. Bringing emotion into missions would only complicate them. But with that said, they were kind to him, they didn't treat him like he was abnormal or otherwise. Executor couldn't just brush off the way they made him feel.

･ So, after what felt like centuries, he finally took his chance.

･ The Doctor would be alone with him in their office or on the deck, both of them in conversation. He'd stray from whatever topic they were discussing, and with his heart beating a little faster than usual, Executor spoke.

･ "I do not enjoy interacting with others because they do not understand me and I do not understand them. But, with you, Doctor, I look forward to our interactions every day. Talking with you is very interesting. I'm grateful that you do not treat me differently for the way I live."

･ The Doctor smiled, but before they could get a word in, Executor spoke again.

･ "With that being said, I'd very much enjoy having lunch or dinner with you any day you're free."

･ When he noticed Doctors' face of surprise, a small wave of anxiety came over him, and it was something he wasn't used to. Though, when they stepped closer and nodded at him with a grin, any worries he had were gone in an instant. The feeling that came over him is odd - a warmth in his chest he wasn't quite used to.

･ "I'd love that, Executor. How does tomorrow evening sound?"

･ The Sankta took a second to answer, but when he did, his words were accompanied with the smallest of smiles.

･ "I have no objections. Thank you, Doctor."

Exusiai

･ It would be hard to notice with Exusiai

･ She probably wouldn't even think too much of it, and would just think of it as admiration; Until Texas speaks up after she catches Exusiai staring at the Doctor.

･ "Do you like them?"

･ The redhead was a little surprised at Texas' straightforwardness, but it made her ponder a little.

･ "Whatta you mean? As in like like them?"

･ Texas would just stare at her a little before going back to moving cargo. "Yeah. I was asking if you have feelings for them. You don't have to answer, it's fine."

･ As curt as usual, The Lupo didn't Exusiai much time to answer, and so the redhead was left thinking about it. She did want to protect and be with the Doctor as much as possible, but could it really be a crush?

･ After that, the Doctor started occupying her mind even more.

･ She used whatever free time she had to chat with them, and while she didn't have the best attention span, when it came to the Doctor, listened intently no matter the topic. The Sankta actively tried to get the Doctor to relax with her, being as upbeat as always.

･ "Leader! Are you busy? Let's go get something to eat!! I'll buy~!"

･ "Working all the time isn't good for you, you know! Come on, let's go out and do something!!"

･ Exusiai would insist on buying the Doctor gifts and treating them out to food or even a cup of coffee whenever she can.

･ It didn't take long everyone at Penguin Logistics to pick up on the fact that something was different. Texas wouldn't say much by Croissant and Sora would pitch in lightheartedly, "You've been spoilin' the Doctor a lot, huh Exusiai?" Sora would giggle a bit at Croissants statement, "Yeah! It's almost like you have a crush on them!!"

･ Sora meant it as a joke, but the more they thought about it, the more they realized that was exactly what was going on.

･ "Wait, wait! Do you have a crush on the Doctor?"

･Exusiai was pretty open with it, though in reality she's having a little trouble figuring out what her feelings are, "A crush? Like a thing? I don't know about that, but I'd protect them until the end of the world!"

･ Her reply was a little vague, but Sora and Croissant caught on regardless. With that, they made it their mini goal to get Exusiai to ask the Doctor out.

･ "What if you wrote a song and senrade them? That would be fun!"

"Yer kidding - Exusiai doin' karaoke for the Doctor?"

"What? You don't think it's a good idea, Croissant?"

･ Exusiai decided to jump into the discussion, still being laid back about the situation.

･ "I think the best date would be a party with apple pie!!"

･ Sora would huff a bit, "Come on Exusiai, don't be evasive!! How are you gonna tell them?" Croissant added in, "Yer not going to keep it a secret forever, are ye?"

･ Judging by their tones, The Sankta knew that they expected a true, solid answer, but she couldn't give that to them; It wasn't in her nature to get so serious, and if she was honest, she didn't have a plan to tell the Doctor her feelings.

･ "Aw, thanks for looking out for me, but I think I should figure this sort of thing out on my own, right?"

･ And so, that's exactly what she does.

･ Exusiai wasn't one to stress out about things, and this time wouldn't be different. Still, she would be against acting impulsively in such a case.

･ What she did know is that she felt for the Doctor outside of her work for them, and she saw them as more than a boss, and even more than a friend.

･ For awhile, the redhead didn't act on it. She just kept hanging around the Doctor as always, wanting to spend the most time with them. Plus, it wouldn't be right to get involved with someone who was her boss, she told herself.

･ When the Doctor spent time with her, Exusiai enjoyed seeing them happy and away from work. It wasn't often they got moments without war when fighting against the Reunion. She was just happy to be able to see them relax - she truly didn't need any more than that. Why act on her feelings and risk making the Doctor uncomfortable?

･ Though, one afternoon, Texas stopped Exusiai in the hallway a little suddenly.

･ "Are you going to their office?"

･ Exusiai nodded joyfully, "Yep! I wanna go see if they're done their work so we can do something!"

･ Texas had stared at her for a few seconds, before placing one of her chocolate coated sticks in between her lips, returning to walking down the hall after saying one last thing; "You should tell them. Worst case scenario, they don't return your feelings."

･ Just like the first time, Exusiai was left to think for a little while. Though, one she was done, she walked to the Doctor's office with a new spark in her eyes.

･ "Yo, Leader! Are you there? Don't tell me you're still working~"

･ Exusiai seemed to glow once in the Doctors presence, especially when they invited her in with a grin.

･ "I'm sorry Exusiai, I can't go anywhere with you right now. Amiya gave me some paperwork to handle." The Doctor informed her apologetically, causing a small pout to form on her face.

･ "Aw, that's okay. I can totally wait for you!" She took a seat, seeming a little jittery, "But hey, leader, I was thinking."

･ Her tone was a little softer than usual, and it caused the Doctor to turn to her with rapt attention, awaiting her words carefully.

･ "You know - you're a very important person to me! I'll never ever forget you!" A beaming grin was on her lips, "So I was kind of wondering if you'd wanna go and do something special when you're not busy. You know, just the two of us! That would be cool, right?"

･ The Doctor blinked for a moment, but a grin almost as wide as Exusiai's came on their own face.

･ "Yes, that would be cool! If that's something you want to do, then let's do it Exusiai!!"

･ Exusiai lit up so much she could've rivaled the sun, "Okay~! Just me, you, and a lot of fun, leader!!" The Sankta grinned, one of the most widest smiles the Doctor had seen. "Ehehe, I can't wait!!"

Adnachiel

･ Adnachiel recognized his feelings when they arose, but he felt like acting on them had too many bad outcomes, and so, he tried his best to keep quiet about it. The Sankta told himself that a small crush wasn't a good enough reason to stir up unnecessary tension.

･ Unfortunately, he wasn't the best at hiding it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help but light up whenever the Doctor asked him for his assistance with fixing or repairing something, nor could he hide his enthusiasm while doing whatever task they had given him.

･ The Sankta seemed to be practically glowing when around the Doctor, smiling and giving them his rapt attention.

･ On occasion, he would even take time to walk the Doctor though every step of the repair if they had the time. This was more tedious of course, but the time Adnachiel spent talking with seemed to fill him with a bright attitude. On top of that, the Sankta seemed even happier when the Doctor expressed interest in his words and actions during repairs.

･ It didn't take long for his teammates to notice his happy, beaming behaviour around the Doctor.

･ Steward spoke up first, "Adnachiel seems very radiant when around the Doctor." With his statement came others from his teammates, all in agreement. Ansel's voice came next, "Hm. I suppose you're right. He does seem a lot more energetic around them." Then, cutting through their calm observations was Cardigans high-pitched excited voice, "You don't think- He has a crush on the Doctor?!" The girls' energy filled question was followed by an excited yell, but before she could start bouncing off the walls, Melantha cut in quietly, "Uhm, Merry, calm down. It's not good to yell so late at night."

･ However, Steward and Ansel were interested in such a possibility.

"A crush..? That would explain a lot, what do you think Steward?"

"Adnachiel does admire the Doctor very much. It's hard to tell, but I think he could have feelings for them."

･ Just as Cardigan was spewing out ideas on how to get Adnachiel and the Doctor together like rapid fire, the Sankta himself walked in.

･ In an instant, he was hit with excited yells from Cardigan that soon mixed with the pleads of her teammates asking her to calm down. Despite the voices bouncing off the walls and melding together, Adnachiel was able to pick up on why there was such a commotion;

･ "Do I…have feelings for the Doctor?"

･ His voice was a little soft, but it caused quiet to settle around the room in an instant. All the eyes of his teammates were on him, blinking and wide. Before Cardigan was about to begin yelling again, Melantha stepped in. "Uhm, sorry. We were just…wondering about it."

･ They couldn't tell what he was thinking, but under his curious expression, Adnachiel was jumping from foot to foot in anxiety.

･ Just the mention of the Doctor seemed to make his chest fill with this odd warmth. Adnachiel sighed - his feelings were undeniable at this point.

･ When he hesitantly admitted to having feelings for the Doctor, his teammates sparked with energy again - or, more so, Cardigan exploded with excitement.

･ While she gushed about the new news, the other 3 in the room spoke their mind to Adnachiel, who was admittedly a little flustered.

･ Melantha spoke first, "I think that's really nice, Adnachiel."

"You should tell them! I'm sure it'll turn out fine no matter what." Steward added in, followed by an agreeing Ansel, "Well, from what I've seen, they seem to like you too. There's no harm in telling them how you feel."

･ Their comments just seemed to multiply his timidness tenfold, but he gave a small smile. "I appreciate your thoughts, but I'm just fine by the Doctors' side. I don't need them to reciprocate my feelings."

･ They didn't want to bother him about it for very long, and the concern that Cardigan would end up breaking yet another piece of equipment caused them to turn away from him and to their energetic teammate.

･ Adnachiel lingered on the words of his teammates for a little while, but he stood by his words; acting on his feelings wasn't worth the risk, especially when his Friendly relationship with the Doctor could be ruined.

･ Though, what he didn't plan for was his teammates actively trying to get him to take the next step.

･ Even after insisting he wasn't going to tell the Doctor about his crush, Team A4 seemed to make it their goal to get Adnachiel to at least take them out somewhere.

･ Adnachiel remained against it until Cardigan piped up with a decent proposal; "You can make sweets, right? What about you give them some?"

･ The idea sparked conversation with the rest of the team, "Ah, that's not a bad idea at all." Ansel added, with Steward nodding in agreement nearby, "I think there's no harm in doing it." Quietly, Melantha's voice came last, "Uhm…I think you should do it too, but… it's just a suggestion."

･ Adnachiel went quiet for a few moments, before sighing. His team left him alone after that, moving on with their conversation, but he still thought about their words.

･ The next day, the Sankta walked into the dormitory with something small and wrapped in plastic, tied with a ribbon. Ansel piped up, curious, "Um, What did you bring, Adnachiel?"

･ Biting the inside of his cheek a little, the Sankta replied, "I made sweets for the Doctor, like you said. I hope they like them."

･ And much to his surprise, they did.

･ The Doctor accepted the gift with a smile and multiple 'thank yous'. Adnachiel couldn't really believe he was the one that made them light up like they did.

･ He kept giving them sweets, even if he was too tired by the end of the day to make them. He managed to always find time for the Doctor.

･ Though, he knew that he couldn't just keep giving them sweets to see them happy forever. It felt wrong not to tell them the truth. The Sankta was worried about what would happen if the Doctor didn't feel the same, but they had grown to be such good friends that he felt he had to tell them the truth.

･ It was a random day, the Doctor had asked him to help fix some broken medical equipment on an uneventful evening.

･ Adnachiel had it working again in no time, smiling at the thanks be received form the Doctor. But, just as they were about to leave, the Sankta spoke up.

･ "Doctor, are you free any time this week?"

･ The Doctor turned around, seeming a little surprised for a split second, but it was soon replaced with a friendly smile, "I'm free later this afternoon. Why?"

･Adnachiel took a deep breath, before speaking without nervousness, "I was wondering if you would like to take a walk with me later? You always listen to everything I have to say when I show you how I repair equipment, so I think it's only fair I give you the time to talk to me about anything you want." He paused, scanning their face for any reaction, "I would be so happy to spend some time with you."

･ The Sankta braced himself for rejection, but what came instead was a wide grin from the Doctor followed by an enthusiastic nod. "That sounds great, Adnachiel! I'd love to spend some time with you, too."

･ Adnachiel was unable to contain his smile, and he stood up straight, eyes shining.

･ "Okay, I'll look forward to it!"

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