#there was a sign on the door that said only two students in store at a time and backpacks must be left at the front i saw three girls waitin

[chuuphic]

forced to leave backpack at door of walgreens due to babyface allegations

[angelikook]

Red String of Fate

Pairing(s): Janitor and delivery person!Yoongi x college student!reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, e2l-ish, college au-ish, soulmate au-ish

Word Count: 10.7k

Warning(s): Profanity, alcohol use

Summary: The red string of fate connects two enemies. However, Yoongi’s red string, which is attached to Y/n, suddenly disappears after he meets her the second time.

A/n This fic officially marks my comeback to Tumblr *insert applause here 👏* After years of hiatus, my life finally settles a bit so I can continue what I've always loved. I had so much fun writing this one. Enjoy! This fic is still unedited though, I'll edit it ASAP.

Masterlist | Join/Leave Taglist

There were three things that Yoongi wished didn’t exist. One, flat-earthers. Two, anti vaxxers. And three, the red string of fate.

During 21 years of his life, he learned that not only the red string of fate foresaw the relationship of two people, but also the fact that it predicted hostility between them and not romance like what those legends had said. Not to mention the disturbing fact that he could see them for as far as he could remember.

He’d seen his parents divorced, his two best friends fought one another, and even random people argued on the street. And what was the similarity of all of them? That damned red string that was attached between the people involved. The sure sign that those people would go their separate ways sooner or later.

As he went about his typical Saturday which consisted of getting ready for work, doing some deliveries, and depositing some money to his parents’ bank account, he noticed the absence of his red string. With an almost inhuman speed, he finished the rest of his routine and called his only friend.

The door jingled as he pushed the door open. In an instant, a smell of coffee entered his nostrils. He couldn’t help but to take a long whiff, enjoying the rich aroma.

Upon seeing him walking in, the boy who stood behind the counter grinned at him. “Take a seat. I’ll come to you in a bit.”

He strode to his favorite spot in the cafe, at the far corner near the window where he could watch the pedestrians outside.

The boy who was once behind the counter turned the store sign to ‘closed’, turned off some of the lights, and made some drinks before sauntering to Yoongi with two cups in hand.

“Sorry for meeting you at this time, Tae. I honestly don’t know what to do if you are busy.”

“No worries. It’s not like I’ve other things to do after this.” The boy placed a cup in front of Yoongi.

“Thanks,” Yoongi mumbled. “Won’t your boss be angry if you have a guest here?”

“Nope. In fact, she encourages us to have guests. To introduce the cafe to more people, she said.”

“Good marketing strategy.”

“I know right. So, what do you wanna talk about?”

Yoongi told the boy in front of him about his day. From the moment he woke up, until the time he texted his friend to meet up with extra detail when he realized his string had disappeared.

He was just finished with the second to the last delivery. The lady who received the food thanked him and went back inside her house. He took it as a cue for him to continue with his last delivery.

It was when he was checking the next address when he felt something was missing.

He patted his pockets to look for his phone, wallet, and keys which were still intact. He made sure he didn’t forget the food he needed to deliver. He even checked his phone in case there was a task he’d forgotten to do.

But he found none.

With head full of confusion, trying to remember what was missing, he drove to the last address.

Five minutes away from the last place he needed to go, at a traffic light, his eyes fell to his left pinky, the place where his red string attached to him. The place where there was no longer a red string.

His eyes were big as saucers as he inspected his pinky.

During 21 years of his life, there was not a single time, as far as he knew, in which the red string ever disappeared. It could twist, bend, stretch, and become thinner, but never disappear. It could even fade sometimes, but could never vanish.

He looked around to see other road users. Their red strings were glaringly obvious. Some even had a deep red color.

He sighed though not all his worries went away.

He didn’t lose his ability, just his string.

“Oh my God! I just realized that your string is very much gone.”

“Do you have an idea of what this means? Or what caused this to happen?”

Taehyung leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “It’s your fault for not joining our weekly meeting.”

Yoongi met Taehyung at a club specifically made for people who can see the red string. He didn’t know what made him join the club, but he could probably blame his curiosity for that.

“I have work. Plus, it’s not like you understand what’s going on either after attending them.”

“Touché. But, do you know who’s at the other end?”

“I knew about it a few weeks ago.”

How stupid of him to ignore the weather forecast this morning. It said that there was going to be a thunderstorm. Yoongi just realized how accurate the forecaster was as the rain hit against the library's windows loudly.

His shift as the campus’ janitor had ended an hour ago, but since the rain didn’t let him go home and he was stupid enough not to bring an umbrella, he decided to wait in the library until the rain subside.

Every now and then, a thunder illuminated the dimly lit library before breaking in an ear-splitting noise. And every time it happened, he couldn't help but to wince even after hearing it for the nth time in the past hour.

He was sitting on the floor in the corner while gripping the encyclopedia on his lap. His mind couldn't cooperate for the last few minutes. He'd been reading the same line for countless times now and he grew agitated.

On the next aisle, a couple had been arguing for the past five minutes. And as much as Yoongi didn't like to eavesdrop, he had no headphones he could use to cover his ears.

"So, going out with my best friend behind my back was your brilliant solution?" the girl half-yelled.

They had been half-yelling the entire time. They knew that they weren't allowed to be loud here, yet they still chose a library out of all places to have an argument. That ticked Yoongi off.

"She came to me first, okay? I didn't know you weren't there. She said you were coming along," the boy defended himself.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. Of course a cheater would make up stupid reasons.

“Here’s what’s going wrong. One, you could leave her once you knew. Two, you could tell me you were with her. Three, you could cross-check with me first. And you did nothing out of all three.”

Yoongi smirked and nodded in agreement though he knew well they couldn’t see him. It was exactly what he’d say in a situation like that. He liked this girl, they had a similar way of thinking.

Yoongi suddenly grew curious at what the girl looked like. He scooted closer towards their voices and peeked between the books on the shelf.

Just like what he’d imagined, the girl was gorgeous. Or, at least as gorgeous as a sleep deprived college student can be.

She had a cute nose and lips, and bright eyes despite looking tired and sleepy. Dark eyebags and fading eyeliner decorated her eyes. Her hair glistened under the dim light, probably still wet due to the rain. Her pink lipstick also started to wear off, showing off her natural chapped lips.

The boy grew quiet for a bit. “Sorry, babe. It won’t happen again.”

She snorted. “I know. Because there’s no such thing as next time. Bye.”

As she walked off, his eyes trained down to her pinky, a habit he’d had because of the stupid ‘talent’ he had. He followed the red string on her pinky to the other end of the string, another habit he’d had because he was full of curiosity.

Most of the time he couldn’t see the other end, since enemies usually weren’t within sight with each other. This time, though, he kinda hoped that hers would connect to the boy she was dating. That way, it’d explain why they broke up.

Not as expected, her string ended on his pinky.

“Do you hate her?” Taehyung asked after sipping on his hot chocolate.

“Nope.”

“Maybe that’s why the string disappeared?” Taehyung suggested. “The string only connects enemies. Maybe if it makes a mistake like this, it’ll disappear.”

“Can the string make a mistake?”

Taehyung shrugged. “You don’t hate her, though.”

“But why didn’t it disappear right then, why today?”

Taehyung bit his lip, deep in thought. “Did something happen today?”

“Not today, but I met her yesterday.”

He was late to work and his dead watch was to blame. Somehow it slipped his mind to change the batteries and now he had to deal with his own stupidity.

As he scurried to campus, someone accidentally crashed into him from behind. His tattered bag fell and spilled its contents.

"Oh my! I'm so sorry!" A girl crouched beside him and helped him pick up his stuff.

"It's okay," he replied timidly.

Right as he put the last thing into his bag, the girl's friend, who since then only loomed over them in silence, clicked her tongue in annoyance.

"Can you be faster? I have a presentation in 10 minutes."

When Yoongi and the girl stood up, he finally got the chance to see who the girl's friend was. Their connected red string only confirmed it further.

Since the last time Yoongi saw her, she was in a worse condition. A cup of coffee was in one hand, a laptop in the other. Her eyes were puffy and dried tears were visible in her cheeks. Unlike back then at the library, she didn't wear any makeup. She wore an old oversized sweater which looked older than Yoongi's seven years old bag with a pair of washed up jeans that were baggy in weird places.

The girl who helped him snapped back at her, "That's your own fault for having a midlife crisis this morning."

The library girl only linked her arm around the girl's arm and dragged her.

He knew she was supposed to be his enemy, but for the rest of the day Yoongi couldn't help but to wonder what happened to her. His curiosity got the best of him now that he knew she was on the other end of his string.

Did she have another relationship problem? Or maybe her ex pleaded to get back together again? Or maybe just college stuff?

"You didn't ask her name?"

"She was in a hurry,” Yoongi defended himself.

"Still. I think we need as much information as possible, and a trusted person."

"Like who?"

"Namjoon."

"The club's leader? Are you kidding me?"

"Hey! He might be the only one who knows about this ordeal."

"But you're talking to him." It wasn’t a question.

Taehyung shook his head. "No. You talk to him."

"We're talking to him."

"Fine."

Despite Namjoon’s busy schedule and Yoongi’s multiple jobs, meeting him was easier than Yoongi had initially thought. One day he just texted him and not five minutes later Namjoon replied to meet up the next day after his shift ended. Just as promised, Taehyung came as a moral support and to provide with drinks.

After hearing Yoongi’s story, which was occasionally added by Taehyung with small details, Namjoon frowned. He bit his bottom lip and his eyes became unfocused.

“Do you think you can help us?” Yoongi asked after a minute of silence, already expecting a negative answer from the way the leader was behaving.

Namjoon’s eyes focused back to Yoongi’s. “I’m not sure. I’ve read something about this, but there wasn’t any more research about that. Maybe I can ask the previous leaders and see if they know about it.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do?”

“You said you knew who was on the other end. Can you bring her here? Maybe she knows something.”

“He doesn’t know her name, though,” Taehyung chimed in before Yoongi could say anything.

“That’s fine. Take as much time needed. I need to talk to the previous leaders anyway. Just tell me once you’re ready.”

“Joon,” Taehyung called him, catching his attention. “Is it possible that the string is wrong? Yoongi doesn’t hate her and that’s why the string disappeared?”

Taehyung’s question echoed in his mind for days on end. If his theory was right, then why was the string still there on the day at the library? Why didn’t it disappear right away? And what was going to happen now that his string was gone?

But one more question stood out the most to him. How could he ask for her to come with him without sounding creepy?

With the clock struck seven, his shift had ended and he could go home. He changed out of his uniform and walked towards the campus’ exit where there were some students still lingering.

He rolled his eyes at them. ‘Those kids are so lucky to be able to get an education at a place like this and they’re probably unaware of it,’ he thought.

Right as he was about to step out the door, a poster caught his eyes. More specifically, a face he’d grown to recognize just caught his eyes.

The poster was talking about a speech that was going to be held in a week’s time. The speech was going to be about the importance of vaccines and would be attended by some famous speakers. He knew one of the speakers.

It was the library girl. But unlike at the library nor in front of the campus, she wore a bright smile. She flashed her teeth, her eyes twinkled. Her makeup was perfectly done, thanks to meticulous makeup artists who took time with her face.

Underneath her photo, her name was printed in bold. Y/n L/n.

Yoongi gasped as he read her name again and again. He even tried how her name tasted in his mouth when he said it.

Her name was exactly like herself. Sweet, but not too sweet, with a hint of salty for her sharp words. It was closest to salted caramel in his mind.

But what was more important was the fact that he’d found her name. He grinned to himself at the thought. His only feat left was to talk to her and ask her to meet Namjoon.

The speech was held after the lunch break, which meant he got half a day to plan what to say to her. However, since he woke up, his mind had been a cloudy mess, he couldn’t think straight.

He tried to jot down possible things he could say to Y/n, but his clammy hand kept wetting his paper. He tried to type his thoughts on his phone, but his supervisor caught him playing on his phone and scolded him. All his efforts were futile in the end. His mind, paper, and phone notes were still as empty as they were this morning.

The night before, he’d talked to Namjoon and Taehyung, but both were as helpful as his empty mind.

“Just say whatever. It’s better if you tell her we’ll be talking about the red string,” Namjoon had said.

“Tell us how it goes, okay?” was the only thing Taehyung said.

When the time arrived, he waited in front of the campus’ hall where the speech was held.

Through the glass doors, he could see Y/n and a couple other speakers he didn’t care for. He couldn’t hear what they said, though. They took turns to speak, each more passionate than the speaker before them until the time Y/n stepped to the center of the stage.

All these time Yoongi only saw the angry, sad, and tired Y/n to the point he’d internalized the idea that she was like that most of the time. This was the first time he saw her speaking in front of hundreds of audience with a burning passion.

From outside where he couldn’t hear a single thing, he still felt moved and inspired by just seeing her hand gestures alone. He couldn’t imagine what it felt to be able to listen to her speech.

When she was done with her speech and bowed to the audience, they erupted in cheers and clapped their hands.

The event quickly ended with the MC saying some closing speech. With that, the crowd left the hall one by one not even minding Yoongi who was standing outside. Only a couple of faculty members and students still lingered inside, chatting animatedly with the speakers.

A pang of jealousy coursed through him at the sight of them. If money wasn’t a problem for him, he would have had a higher education just like these people. And to be reminded that those students were around his age made him sullen.

Among all the people inside, Y/n was the first to leave the hall. Looked like lady luck was on Yoongi’s side today since Y/n left all alone.

Yoongi quickly snatched his only chance and approached her.

“Hi. You’re Y/n, right?”

“Hi. Yeah, I am. And you are?” Her honey voice was sweeter than what he’d heard at the library. He could tell from her voice alone that her mood was definitely better than the last time he saw her.

“Yoongi. I’m the campus’ journalist.” At this point he just spewed out lies and he thought he was quite good at it. “Can we talk for a bit?”

“Sure. About what?”

“I was listening to your speech earlier,” another lie, “and I think you’re strongly opinionated,” not a lie. “I’m wondering if I can interview you? It’s gonna be about the red string.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “The red string?”

Yoongi involuntarily gulped in fear Y/n would reject him.

“I don’t think I have anything to say about that, I’m sorry.”

His heart dropped.

Y/n was about to leave when Yoongi spoke up again, “Umm… It’s okay. We’re going to compile different opinions into one anyways, so if you don’t have a lot to say about it, that’s fine.”

“Oh.” Y/n stopped in her tracks. “When’s the interview then? Is it now? Because if it’s now, I have-”

“No, don’t worry. We can have the interview anytime you’re free. Plus, I won’t be the one interviewing you, an expert or something will ask the questions and I’m just gonna sum them up.”

Y/n nodded. “Can we do it tonight? Maybe around eight after the classes end?”

Technically, Yoongi could, but he didn’t know whether Namjoon was free or not.

“I need to ask the interviewer first. Make sure they’re free and all.”

“Good!”

Yoongi pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Can I have your number?”

Asking for a girl’s number was an achievement he didn’t know he would reach.

Y/n punched in her number and gave the phone back to him. “What’s your name again?”

Yoongi put his phone back into his pocket. “Yoongi.”

The walk to the cafe Taehyung worked at was as awkward as it could get. Two people who just knew each other for a couple of hours walking together, not knowing what to say to break the tension. Not to mention this was Yoongi’s first time walking with a girl.

Yoongi didn’t know whether he should feel lucky or not with Y/n trying to start small talks between them. Lucky because he didn’t have to come up with a topic, unlucky because he had to keep building lies upon lies.

“What year are you in?” Y/n kicked a small rock away from her path.

Yoongi counted in his head. 21 years olds usually were in their third year.

“Third. You?”

“Same. What are you studying?”

“I’m in art. Music.” In his defense, he did music in his free time, so he wasn’t exactly lying.

Y/n halted in her tracks. “Music?”

Uh, oh. Did he just say something wrong?

Yoongi also stopped walking and gave Y/n a questioning look.

“As far as I know, there’s no music major here.”

“Umm… I mean I’m studying art, but also join the music club.”

Y/n started walking again. “I see.”

Yoongi sighed in relief. Nice save.

“What-” The words caught in his throat. “What about you?”

“Science.”

The interview went pretty much the same. Only a series of questions and short answers. She was right when she said she didn’t have anything to say about the red string.

“Do you believe the red string?”

“No.”

“What do you know about it?”

“Not much.”

“Like?”

“Some people can see it.”

“And?”

“It connects soulmates.”

Yoongi stifled a laugh. If only life wasn’t so cruel, it would happen.

“What if I tell you I can see the red string?”

Y/n shrugged. “Good for you.”

“You don’t wanna know to whom yours is connected?”

And other questions that Yoongi had tuned out in boredom. From his peripheral vision, Y/n was holding back a yawn as if to confirm to him that the interview was indeed boring. The now cold coffee in front of them did nothing to keep them alert.

Thanks to his ability to ignore his surroundings for long periods of time, the interview came to an end before he knew it.

Namjoon glanced at the clock before closing his notebook. “It’s almost 10. Sorry to keep you until late.” He stood up and shook Y/n’s hand. “Thank you for helping us.”

“No problem,” Y/n said, though her eyes were starting to droop.

Yoongi was trying hard to hold his smile. It was a rare sight to see someone so tired they barely could keep their eyes open.

Worry and realization clawed at his heart at the sight of Y/n. With a little money he had in his pocket, he had to pay for her favor. Not pay directly with money, because that would be rude. But maybe give her something that she needed.

As if on cue, he heard Y/n’s stomach rumble as they said their goodbyes.

That was it! He could buy her food as a thank you.

He only had money to feed one person, though. It was supposed to be his dinner.

Yoongi bit his lip in confusion. He needed to pay tonight because he didn’t know if they were going to meet again. Plus, going without food for one night wouldn’t be that bad for his health, right? He could just start breakfast earlier the next morning.

He had made up his mind.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna eat?” Y/n asked after swallowing her burger. In front of her, Yoongi could only stare at her food while drooling.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You can take my fries.” She pushed her fries towards Yoongi. “I don’t eat fries. They make me fat.”

He gratefully shoved one into his mouth, savouring it before chewing on it. “And burger doesn’t?”

“Well, it contains meat and lettuce, so it’s not 100% carbs.”

Yoongi silently nodded though he was sure a burger contains more calories.

“How come I never see you on campus?” Y/n asked.

They had been walking towards her place for a while and Y/n refused an awkward silence to fill the air.

“We’re in different buildings, remember?”

This wasn’t a lie. Yoongi indeed worked most of the time in the arts building, a solid 100 meters away from the science building.

“Right. I keep forgetting that. Sorry.” Y/n giggled. As cliché as that sounds, her laugh sounded like bells in his ears.

“Don’t be sorry. No one really cares about art majors.”

Her giggles died down. “I care. I think art is a great way to make a statement. Not to mention it transcends all language barriers. A great media to change the world, isn’t it?”

That was definitely a view of art that Yoongi had never heard before. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t stunned at her words.

“Wow,” Yoongi eventually blurted. No wonder she was giving a speech a few hours ago.

Y/n stopped in front of a huge gate belonging to an apartment building before turning to him.

“Thank you for the food and for taking me home. I owe you one.” She smiled.

“No. Take the food as a thank you for helping me with my article.” At this point, lies came flowing out of his mouth. “And taking you home is just something normal everyone does.”

“Still. I gave you a favor, but you gave me two. It’s only right if I pay you somehow.”

“I want to, though. It helps me sleep at night.”

Yoongi stared at Y/n’s eyes. They were droopy and red from sleepiness, but still held sincerity. Before he drowned in her eyes, he pulled himself back and nodded.

“Okay.”

That night, Yoongi fell asleep with a half-empty stomach and a full heart.

The next few days went by as usual. Wake up, get ready, go to work, go home, sleep. No Namjoon, no Y/n, nor Taehyung in his mind. He was truly back to his boring life before his string disappeared.

The only difference was the ringing noise of Y/n’s words in his ears. ‘Art is a great way to make a statement.’

All these times, he only did art—music—because it was all he knew. He’d known of the possibility of making a statement with music, people had brought politics and social issues into their songs, but he wasn’t brave enough to challenge himself with those issues. He always thought that only famous or rich people were allowed to make such statements.

Yoongi’s next interaction with Y/n was in the form of a text.

Hey, Yoon. Sorry for disturbing you. But I’m curious whether my interview will make it to the campus’ newspaper.

He quickly made up another lie.

Hey. It’s fine. The team decided to change the topic, sorry. Kinda sad, I know.

Y/n instantly replied.

But you’ve worked hard for this! Can’t you say anything to them?

Oh, how he wished he could. Problem was, he wasn’t even a student here.

No convincing will do. They have made up their mind.

Y/n sent in two messages.

That’s inefficient journalism, wasting perfectly good interviews.

Before he got the chance to read Y/n’s second message, his supervisor warned him to put his phone down.

He only got the chance to read the message after his shift ended.

I think it’s the right time for me to pay you back, don’t you think?

Ice cream definitely wasn’t the first thing that came to his mind when Y/n said she wanted to pay him back. He was thinking something like paying for his bus ride home, or maybe buying him some food just like what he did for her. Basically anything that would be more useful than just a sweet dessert that couldn’t even fill an empty stomach.

He wasn’t one to complain, though. In his defense, he hadn’t had one in a long time; he didn’t even remember when was the last time he ate one. He was rather happy to break his long streak with Y/n.

“Something’s wrong with the journalism club,” Y/n said before putting a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

“How so?”

Y/n waved her spoon around. “How redundant to have a person interview a bunch of people only to change the topic in the end?”

Yoongi shrugged. “Things happen.”

“Does this happen often? If yes, that’s crazy.”

“I don’t think so.”

Y/n snorted. “You probably wanna keep your club’s secret. I understand.” Y/n angrily scooped her ice cream. “Aren’t you angry at being mistreated like this?”

“To be honest, I don’t care. It’s not like I like this club anyways.”

“You should leave the club, then. Do something you actually like instead of rotting in that club.”

Yoongi just nodded. What else could he do? He wasn’t even a member to begin with.

“What do you like to do? You said something about the music club.”

“Yeah. I do music in my free time although I’m not that active in the club.”

“Do you do gigs?”

Finally a topic he didn’t need to lie about.

Yoongi answered after he swallowed, “I don’t do that type of music. I don’t perform. I produce music.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “This is the first time I know a music producer. What's it like to produce music?”

Yoongi told her about the first time he learned how to produce music, who taught him that, and even where he learned that. He was 13 at the time and a neighbor offered to show him how to produce music. It was the first time he knew music, it was love at first sight.

“I think it’s great for you to know what you wanna do,” Y/n commented after he finished his story.

“That’s the thing.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I want to pursue it deeper but I don’t know how.”

“You can take up producing jobs?” she suggested.

It was time for him to open up. “There’s this entertainment company looking for an intern, but I don’t know if I can squeeze some time for that.”

Y/n’s face that was once relaxed, now became stern. “Are you sure you want to produce music your whole life?”

It was the same question his parents had asked him when he told them he wanted to do music.

He nodded.

The creases in Y/n’s face disappeared as she leaned back in her seat. “There you have it. Clear up your schedule and run for your dreams. If it’s worth it, you make time for it.”

That was the cue he needed to send his CV.

Despite his protests of not wanting to disturb her time, Y/n met Yoongi after her classes ended just a few days after he sent his CV.

Y/n grinned immediately upon seeing Yoongi in front of the campus’ gates.

“Have you seen the results?”

Yoongi shook his head, not trusting his voice.

“What are you waiting for? Open it!” Y/n peered into Yoongi’s phone.

With clammy, shaky hands, he opened the email and read the message.

Dear Min Yoongi,

We’ve read your CV and would like to discuss more with you on Tuesday, July 6th, 2021 at 13:00.

Regards,

Go Youngjae

He was still registering the message and rereading it over and over again when Y/n jumped and yelled, “This calls for a celebration!”

Y/n, her yellings, and people watching them thinking they were weirdos were all around him, yet his mind was clouded with the words from the message.

Only when Y/n grabbed his shoulders to grab his attention he was brought back to reality.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“Huh? A celebration?”

Y/n nodded so enthusiastically he worried she would accidentally hurt her neck.

“Okay, then.”

Y/n took a sip of her beer. “I’m jealous of you.”

Around them were bustling with people coming home from their work to eat.

“How?”

“You’re talented enough to achieve your dreams.”

“I’m not accepted yet.”

“Yet,” Y/n emphasized. “It’s just a matter of time before you work there.”

Yoongi frowned. “What do you wanna do then?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know,” she whisper-yelled before taking a large gulp of beer. “And people think we’re adults who are supposed to know what we’re doing.” Y/n snorted.

Yoongi sipped on his own beer while nodding. Sometimes people around him forgot that he was a 21 years old kid who still needed guidance on life. Just because he had two jobs, didn’t mean he knew what he was doing.

“Are you happy with your life right now?” he asked.

Y/n shrugged. “I’d like to think so.”

“Then keep doing what you’re doing.” He knew his advice didn’t help, but he wasn’t graced with the talent to console people.

“I can’t keep being a student.” Y/n laughed in frustration. Her eyes were brimming with tears. “In a year, we’ll graduate. And then what? It’s all black for me while you’re interning. At least you have direction while I’m still as blind as a bat.”

“That sounds depressing.”

“Because it is!” Y/n whined before taking another sip. “Sorry to ruin your celebration with my sad girl problems. Let’s just talk about you.”

Oh, Y/n didn’t know how much he’d rather have his celebration ruined by Y/n than to celebrate on his own.

In between her fading makeup, he could see Y/n’s face started to turn pinkish. Out of courtesy, he gently pulled her beer away from her.

“I think you’re tipsy.”

“No, I’m not.” Y/n reached back for her beer but it was out of reach. “Give it back.”

He argued with something he knew she wouldn’t refute, “You’ll ruin our celebration even further if you’re drunk.”

That kept her sober for the rest of the night.

“I think you’re too keen for celebrations,” Yoongi commented as he eyed Y/n with a bottle of wine. He didn’t even want to know how much it cost a fortune to buy that.

“Who doesn’t like to celebrate?” Y/n sat on her couch and patted the space beside her. “Don’t just stand there. Sit down!”

It was just a few hours after his interview. While he didn’t want to assume how well it went, Y/n believed it went pretty well. In her defense, had the interview gone wrong, he wouldn’t be here in her apartment, he would be crying away in his bedroom. Thus, Y/n convinced him to have another celebration.

Y/n couch was soft to the touch and probably cost more than his kidneys, he felt bad of having to sit on it and potentially dirtying it. But Y/n didn’t pay attention to it while she poured the wine into his glass.

“We have work tomorrow.” He immediately corrected himself with a cough. “Class, I mean.”

“We won’t drink a lot.” She handed him his glass. “Just one glass.”

Yoongi took the glass. “Just one glass.”

But of course one glass turned to two, and three, and a morning full of confusion and hangover.

Yoongi woke up startled. He sat up and gasped for air. His head was killing him, as if someone was hammering his head. His throat was dry, as dry as the desert. More importantly, he didn’t know where he was until the memory of the night before came rushing into his head.

Y/n pouring his drink, laughing at something silly he said, leaned closer and closer to him as her awareness slipped away little by little. And the feeling of her chapped lips on his.

He choked on his saliva. Did he really just kiss her? Or was it just a dream?

His fingers lingered on his lips, trying to remember the taste of Y/n’s lips.

“Oh, you’re awake,” a familiar voice emerged from the kitchen. “Are you thinking about the kiss?”

Yoongi stared at the girl sitting on the dining table.

“Relax, nothing happened. Just a drunken kiss.” She shrugged before shoving a spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

How could she talk about the kiss so lightly? Or maybe he was reading too much into it while the kiss really didn’t mean anything.

“Does that happen often?” he croaked. He winced, he really needed to drink.

As if reading his mind, Y/n grabbed a glass of water and gestured to it, ushering him to take it.

Yoongi slowly got up from the couch, hissed when his headache flared, and walked to the dining table.

“Being drunk or the kiss?”

“The drunken kiss.”

She snorted. “Can you believe it? I don’t get drunk that often and I don’t kiss people every time I’m drunk.”

“You were almost drunk a few days ago.” Yoongi took a seat in front of her.

“Almost. Not completely black out drunk like last night.”

With how nonchalant Y/n seemed, Yoongi blurted out the burning question, “Doesn’t the kiss mean anything to you?”

“I’d like to believe that a drunken kiss means nothing.” She shrugged. “We’re drunk, we can’t even recall it. A meaningful kiss is not a kiss you easily forget.”

“And if you’re drunk but still remember it?”

“Is it still meaningful if the person you kiss doesn't remember it?"

Just like how it always had been, Y/n’s words rang through his ears for days. When he was scrubbing the walls, mopping the floor, taking the trash out, and even on the weekends when he had deliveries.

Not only her words, but the taste of her dry lips and the way she leaned to him etched permanently in his mind. The way she poured him a drink, the way she lazily ate her breakfast. He memorized it all like a fanatic memorizing the Bible. Not leaving a single detail out.

It was just a matter of time until he decided to take action against it.

“I can’t do this. I need to come clean with her.”

The time happened to be a week after the kiss after Taehyung’s cafe closed for the day.

“What? Who? Why? What happened?”

“I think I’m starting to like her, hard. Y/n, I mean.”

Taehyung gave him a meaningful look.

“Don’t give me that look,” Yoongi groaned. “I know it’s wrong because we’re supposed to be enemies. But she’s so fascinating, you know.”

“Tell me about it.”

“She has this… different views of things.”

Taehyung nodded understandingly. “Of course. A quirky girl who can change you. Like an unoriginal love story.”

Yoongi thought, had Y/n been there with them, she would say something along the lines of, "That what makes those movies realistic, doesn't it? Real people don't fight zombies for love."

His mind had been poisoned with the thought of her.

“She’s not just quirky, okay,” he protested, though he didn’t know whether he was defending himself or Y/n. “She’s not quirky at all. In fact, she’s the typical college student.”

“The rich, spoiled one?” Taehyung raised an eyebrow.

“The rich and spoiled one.” Yoongi nodded while chuckling, remembering your fear of adulthood and your lavish apartment.

“I don’t know, dude. But whether you like her or not, or even love her, you still need to come clean.”

Yoongi quieted down at the thought of having to confess his lies to Y/n.

“I know,” he whispered. “But I’m scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

What was he scared of? To be honest, he didn’t know. It wasn’t like he was going to confess his feelings or anything. Just coming clean that he wasn’t a student, but a janitor. That he wasn’t a broke college student, just broke.

Maybe he feared the unknown. He was entering a whole new territory he had never been to.

He’d made up lies upon lies to the person he thought he would never kiss, would never be addicted to. Would never wonder how their day went or if they had breakfast.

He was stupid. Stupid for making up those lies, stupid of ever wondering about his red string, stupid for getting involved too deep with Y/n. His supposed-to-be enemy, a person he should’ve avoided. Stupid for catching feeling with her.

He wanted to kick himself, or Taehyung, or even Namjoon. Himself because he made up those lies. Taehyung because he supported him. Namjoon because he pushed him to come up with anything.

But he knew one thing for sure. If Y/n left him after his confession, he would never forgive himself.

He was going to keep his secret a little longer. If Y/n leaving him was inevitable, at least he had delayed it as long as possible.

Y/n’s life must only contain college and celebrations.

After the results came back—he was officially an intern—Y/n wanted to hold another celebration in his stead.

“We must celebrate every milestone in our lives,” she had said.

Going by her motto, he reluctantly agreed to have another celebration. This time in the form of a small party. So small, only three people were involved. Y/n, Taehyung, and himself.

“Taehyung is your barista friend, right?” Y/n asked enthusiastically when Yoongi told her about his plans. “I always wanted to work part time as a barista,” she sighed dreamily.

Y/n was in charge of the drinks—Yoongi told her not to bring alcoholic drinks. Taehyung was with the take out food. And Yoongi was going to host the party in his house.

He hoped his mom wouldn’t mind having his friends come over.

In fact, his mom was the complete opposite. She was too hyper in his opinion.

First of all, his mom literally bonked him in his head with a vegetable spoon. “Had you told me about it, I’d make some food.”

Second of all, she embarrassed him in front of Y/n. “Yoongi here never told me that he has a pretty friend like you.”

Third of all, she started playing matchmaker. “Are any of you dating Yoongi? No? I think he looks good with Y/n, don’t you think, Taehyung?”

Yoongi had had enough.

“Mom,” he groaned. “Please, stop.”

His mom giggled. “Alright, alright. I’m going back to my room. After you’re done, clean everything up, okay.”

“So, Tae,” Y/n immediately opened her mouth after Yoongi’s mom left, “Is your boss looking for a part-timer?”

“I don’t think so. She never mentions anything about that.”

Y/n nodded sadly. “If she ever looks for a part-timer, can you tell me? I’m interested.”

“Sure.”

Y/n eyes lit up. “Oh my God, really?” She laughed. “I owe you one.”

Taehyung waved his hand dismissively, “Nah, I don’t mind helping out a friend.”

“Are we friends?”

Taehyung shrugged. “A friend of my friend is my friend.”

Y/n clapped in excitement. “That’s what I think, too! I think we’re going to be great friends.”

While they were having a conversation, Yoongi only listened and imagined a life without Y/n. A life after he confessed. His parties would just be filled with silence. Heck, he wasn’t even sure if he would ever throw a party ever again.

But then another thought popped up. This one was more urgent like a ticking time bomb.

He had to leave his current job, and Y/n, to work at his new place.

No matter if he told her or not, she would eventually be out of his life.

The question had changed, then. It used to be when he was going to tell the truth. Now, it was whether he wanted to leave her on a good note or not.

“Hey.” Y/n touched his arm lightly to pull him from his thoughts. “Are you okay? Why are you so glum?”

Yoongi just shook his head, not trusting his own voice.

“Are you sure?” She frowned.

“Y/n, prepare the fruit punch! Let’s have a toast for Yoongi,” Taehyung said, catching both of their attention.

Soon after his friend said that, Y/n’s warm touch left his arm.

Though the party only ended when both of his guests went home, the fun part of the party left with Y/n. It was marked by her phone rings.

She quickly tossed her stuff into her bag and explained, “It’s my alarm. I have an assignment I forgot to do and a class early in the morning.”

“You’re going home now?” Taehyung’s glass of half-full fruit punch looked sad in his hand.

She sighed. “I’m sorry for ruining the party.” She looked at Yoongi. “Again.”

“It’s okay,” Yoongi replied. “How will you get home, though? It’s dark outside.”

“I’ll call a cab.” Y/n slung her bag over her shoulder. “Tell your mom I say thank you for having me.”

With one last glance at Yoongi, she left.

“What does she mean by ‘again’?” Taehyung dared to fill the silence.

Yoongi explained everything. About the burger after her interview, the ice cream, the beer and Y/n’s sob story, the interview and the drunken kiss, and this party. All the while Taehyung listened to every word he said.

“You can’t keep her in the dark. She’s too nice and sincere,” Taehyung finally said.

“I’ll leave her anyway. I can’t keep my job at the campus while being an intern.”

“And never tell her the truth? That’s cruel, dude.”

“It’s either that, or she hates me for the rest of her life.” With a choked voice, he added, “I don’t want her to hate me.”

“You can’t possibly think of that.” Taehyung shook his head. “You’re selfish if you do that.”

“Is it wrong to be happy?” Yoongi cried.

“Yes, if you’re sacrificing her trust. Your happiness is just a lie.”

“But you were the one encouraging me to talk to her back then!”

“Had I known you were going to fall with her, I would have told you to be honest.”

He shook his head, refusing to listen to his friend’s words. He had made up his mind and there was no need for Taehyung to make him doubt his choice.

“I’m going to enjoy my time with her as long as possible.”

Taehyung’s next word, however, echoed in his mind. “You’re going to regret this.”

You’re going to regret this. The words kept ringing in his ears, just like Y/n’s words. But unlike hers that was soothing, this was hot and painful. He deserved it, though. He needed a constant reminder that he was living his best life at the expense of Y/n, her trust, and Taehyung.

“So, there’s this opening party for a new club this weekend.” Y/n stirred her tea with her straw. “And I need a plus one. I’d ask my friend, but she has a seminar or something.”

As Taehyung’s words screamed in his mind, Yoongi asked, “You want me to come with you?”

“Well, if you’re okay with that. We won’t be there long, I promise. I just wanna say hi and stuff.”

You’re going to regret this.

“Sure. What should I wear?”

Y/n shrugged. “Anything comfy. It’s just like a normal frat party at someone’s house.”

Yoongi had never been to a frat party.

By the time they arrived, the party had already started. The music blared out loud, Yoongi was sure the neighbors were filing a complaint. Inside, people were dancing, singing, and playing drinking games.

Yoongi winced when a drunk person hit him accidentally.

This wasn’t a pleasant experience.

Y/n had been long gone from his side, being dragged away from him right when they passed the door. He remembered Y/n flashing him an apologetic smile and mouthed to him, “I’ll be back.”

She’d be back. All he needed to do was stay exactly where he was and don’t catch other people’s attention. He wouldn’t want an art student to recognize him.

“Hey, I think I know you,” the drunk person from earlier slurred.

Yoongi cursed under his breath. So much for trying to stay low profile.

“No, you don’t,” Yoongi replied, trying to get away from him, but he instead grabbed his arm.

“Yes, I do. I’ve seen you somewhere.” He called his friends over. “Do you know this guy?”

Gulping, Yoongi saw some of them nodded while the others shook their heads.

“I’m sure I’ve seen him before.” The drunk guy frowned, trying to remember where he met Yoongi. “Did you watch our speech?”

Yoongi’s eyes widened. There was no way this dude was a speaker there. He didn’t recall him at all.

“What’s going on here?” A booming voice came from behind him.

Yoongi turned around and sighed in relief when his eyes met with Y/n’s.

“Y/n! Have you ever met this guy?” The drunk guy pointed to him.

“Yes! He’s my friend. Get away from him.” Y/n yanked the guy’s hand off of Yoongi’s arm.

“Okay, geez.” The guy raised his hands in surrender and walked away.

Once the guy was out of ear sight, Y/n hissed, “What were you thinking? He’s a person you don’t wanna get involved with.”

“He approached me first,” Yoongi defended himself.

Y/n shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Just try not to get too close with him.” Y/n whispered in his ears, “He’s a fuckboy.”

Y/n took his hand and was about to pull him out of the party when suddenly another drunk guy stopped them.

Yoongi immediately recognized the boy to be Y/n’s ex, the one she was talking to back at the library.

“Y/n!” he called, pretending to be surprised, but Yoongi could see straight to him. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here.”

Y/n snorted. “That’s supposed to be my line. Now, get out of my way.”

“No way. I haven’t seen you in weeks. I miss you.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. “And I don’t. If you have some kind of self respect, please go away.”

“There’s no way you don’t miss me. Are you seeing someone else?” The boy nodded his head towards Yoongi. “Him?”

Y/n gave her ex a straight face for a few seconds. But then her face lightened up as she whispered to Yoongi, “Play along.”

“Yes!” she answered while linking her arm around Yoongi’s. “I’m with him.”

It was the ex’s turn to furrow his eyebrows.

He checked out Yoongi. From his face, down to his clothes and shoes. Scepticism was evident on his face.

“He doesn’t look very loaded,” the ex commented, much to Yoongi’s dismay.

Y/n shrugged. “At least he’s smarter than you.”

The ex’s attention was back on Y/n. Yoongi finally could draw a deep breath.

“He can’t possibly make you happy.”

“And your cheating ass can? Get out of my face.” Y/n pushed the ex away to the point he stumbled.

As Yoongi and Y/n walked past him, the ex yelled, “I’m marking your face, remember that.”

“Whatever. Just ignore him,” Y/n said.

“I’m assuming he’s your ex?” Yoongi asked though he already knew the answer. He could recognize the lanky boy anywhere.

“Yep. Thanks for the help, by the way.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You did a lot by staying quiet.” Y/n chuckled softly as she shook her head. “He was looking for a fight, your silence confused him.”

“Why did you come to this party if it’s filled with problematic people?” he asked.

“I need to at least stop by. The club was my idea, after all.” Y/n shrugged. “Plus, not everyone there was problematic. Some are nice.”

Yoongi nodded. “I see.”

Y/n sighed. “Let’s go home, shall we?”

Resigning was another problem he had to deal with. First of all, he needed to make a letter of resignation which he didn't know how to make. Second of all, he had to print the letter though he didn’t have any printers. Third of all, he had to face his manager whom he only met once.

His manager stared deep into Yoongi’s eyes after reading his letter. “You have a new job?”

“Yes.”

“When will you start working there?” His boss tossed his letter to the trash can.

So much for trying to make a good letter.

“Two weeks from now.”

His boss pursed his lips for a moment before answering, “Okay, then. You may leave.”

“Thank you.”

Once he was outside his boss’ room, Yoongi exhaled in relief. His current job was coming to an end.

And so was his friendship with Y/n.

Three days before Yoongi left his current job, Y/n wanted to meet him in front of the campus after her class ended. He didn’t know why she wanted to meet him. After all, all she sent was a short text.

Meet me at 7 at the usual spot. Important!

He couldn’t help but to feel a sinking feeling at her last word. Did she find out about who he actually was? Or about the red string?

He was going to get his questions answered soon since he could already see the back of Y/n’s head.

But he didn’t even get the chance to greet her when Y/n turned around to face him and shoved her phone in front of Yoongi. A photo of him in a janitor uniform while holding a broom was displayed.

Yoongi stopped in his tracks and gasped. His eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Where did you get that?” Inside his deepest mind, he knew who’d taken the picture.

“What is this?” she demanded.

“I-”

“This is edited, right?” Her voice wavering, eyes brimming with tears. “You’re just a student just like me. Right?” She sounded desperate. Desperate to believe that Yoongi wasn’t lying to her.

All Yoongi could do was to look down and shake his head in shame.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she sniffled. “I trusted you.”

“I wanted to tell you but I was looking for the right moment.”

“Bullshit! That’s all what they say. Have you ever thought of me as a friend?” She stared at Yoongi with so much venom in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

Y/n wiped her tears aggressively. Her mascara started to run down her cheeks. She looked similar to the day at the library. The day Yoongi was making fun of her ex for being stupid. But this time, he was the stupid one.

“Stop saying sorry, dammit! What part of you are real? Are the company, the email, your internship all lies? Your ambitions, too?” At this point, her tears flowed freely down her face. “Answer my questions!” she yelled ferociously, not minding about passersby who stopped to watch them.

Yoongi really wanted to spill everything. From the library, the connected red string, then when it disappeared, the speech, and the friendship he’d gotten from it. But his mouth was sealed. Closed with the weight of the words.

With the lack of an answer, Y/n shove her phone back into her bag. She nodded and sniffled one last time.

“You’re just like my ex. A liar. A dirty, dirty liar.” She laughed sourly. “You know what’s funny?”

Yoongi shook his head.

“The fact that my ex was right all along. You can’t make me happy.” She visibly gulped, trying to hold back her tears. “Thanks for the friendship all this time. Goodbye.”

Just like that, she left his life without a trace.

Each word coming from her mouth attacked him like bullets. And it only hurt more every time he replayed it. He liked the pain, though. He deserved it after ruining his second friendship. He deserved it after hurting his friend.

The remaining days at his current job dragged on. He couldn’t focus at all. He kept forgetting his tasks, forgetting to turn off the ACs after the classes were over, getting scolded by his supervisor.

Not to mention that he found out Y/n had blocked him on every single of his social media, effectively cutting any means of communication.

“The manager told me you’re leaving. But I don’t want you to slack off,” his supervisor once said.

He wanted to scream at his supervisor, his manager, anyone that there was a giant tear in his heart. His heart was bleeding and it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. The best he could do was show up to work. But just like at the night when Y/n confronted him, his mouth was shut tight.

That same day, Namjoon visited him after his shift ended. While there was a twinkle in the leader’s eyes, Yoongi’s eyes were filled with void.

“I’m done with my research,” Namjoon said.

Yoongi sighed. He just wanted Namjoon to say whatever he had to say and leave him alone. Better if Namjoon cursed him too before he left.

“You’re actually in a good place.”

Yoongi wanted to laugh at that. Oh, the irony.

“She’s no longer your enemy. But, you're in a grey area right now. Play your cards right, and you'll find your true love. Take a step wrong, and you'll make a new enemy.”

“Look.” It was the first time he opened his mouth in front of Namjoon. “I know you’re just trying to help. But it’s too late.” He bit his bottom lip. “I already made her an enemy.”

Instead of curses, Yoongi was getting a warm, knowing smile.

“It’s to be expected, actually. Your string was attached to her, after all. I never said it was easy to make her your true love. Only that it was a possibility.”

“Then, do I still have the chance to-” He didn’t need to finish his question for Namjoon to know what he wanted to say.

“Since you’re no longer attached to her, your enemy status is not permanent.” Namjoon laughed. “So, I’d say, go for it.”

Yoongi stared at the ground in disbelief. Warmth emerged from his heart, where emptiness was once, and spreaded throughout his body.

“But she hates me,” he whispered.

“I’m not a counselor. But you might have a chance, if deep down she feels the same.”

That was the problem. He didn’t know if she felt the same.

On his last day, Yoongi was packing his stuff up from his locker, shoving it mindlessly into his old duffle bag.

His supervisor was leaning against the locker beside him with an envelope in hand.

“You’re actually leaving, huh?”

“I don’t break promises.” Yoongi zipped up his bag and closed the locker.

His supervisor handed him the envelope. “Here’s your pay. Thanks for working with us.”

With a curt smile, Yoongi accepted the money. His job here was done.

He was about to leave the perimeter of the campus, promising himself not to look back for the last time, when he heard someone shout his name. Someone he had been dying to talk to. Someone he’d be willing to break his promises for.

He turned around and came face to face with the owner of the voice.

“I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time.

Yoongi gestured to Y/n to talk first.

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain first. I was too caught up in my emotions.”

“No worries. It’s nothing compared to lying.”

“I've already come to terms with it. You were probably scared. It happens to the best of us.”

Yoongi nodded. “I was. This is better, actually. I don’t need to hide the truth anymore.”

“What were you scared of?”

He took a moment to respond. “I guess, being rejected.” It came out more like a question.

Y/n frowned. “Why would I reject you?”

“In my mind, you’re rich and amazing and perfect, basically everything a person wants to be. And because of that, I’m scared you’d think of me as being less than you.”

Y/n snorted. “I’m not perfect. My life is fucked up in its own way. I just never tell anyone about it.”

His mind reverted back to Y/n’s fight with her ex back at the library, and again at the party.

“I would never think of you less. Even if you lied to me.” Y/n flashed him a genuine smile, a sign that he had been forgiven. “Mistakes happen so we can learn from them. What’s important is that at least we acknowledge that and learn to be better.”

Yoongi nodded. He knew her words would ring in his ears for days as usual.

“May I know who took the photo?” he asked.

“My ex.”

His suspicion was confirmed. Somehow he felt even more at peace.

“He marks my face, no wonder.”

“I already told him not to mess with you again.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s nothing.” Y/n shook her head.

Y/n looked down at the duffle bag in his hand. “You’re leaving now?”

“Yeah. It’s time for me to move on with my life.” ‘And move on from you’, he added in his mind.

“Do you wanna grab ice cream for the last time? For old time’s sake?”

Y/n scooped her ice cream as she said, “Stupidly, I forgot to give you the chance to explain yourself. Again.”

Yoongi shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

Y/n dropped her spoon. “It is for me. So for my sake, please explain.”

Just like that, Yoongi blurted everything out. Letting out everything that had been pulling him down. The fight at the library, the interview, and everything happened after that. Including the red string.

“Wait, red string?” Y/n furrowed her eyebrows.

“Right. You don’t believe the red string actually exists, do you? Well, I can see it.”

Y/n’s eyes widened as big as saucers. “Are you making up another lie?”

“Unfortunately, that’s the truth.”

Y/n leaned back in her chair as she snorted. “There’s no way that’s true.”

“Well, if you don’t believe me, you can ask Taehyung. You believe him, right?”

“Yeah, he’s still my friend.” She blinked her eyes repeatedly. “But what does that have anything to do with him?”

“He can see them, too. That’s how we know each other, actually.”

Y/n laughed in surprise. “I’m surrounded by crazy people.”

“We’re not crazy!” Yoongi searched for Taehyung’s contact in his phone. “Just talk to him first.”

After one ring, Taehyung picked up the call.

“Why are you calling me? I don’t want to talk to you until you’re telling her the truth.”

“I’m doing that right now, but I need your help.”

“For what?”

“Tell her about the red string, our red string, and the fact that we can see them because she doesn’t trust me.”

A shuffling sound could be heard in the background. “Okay. Give her the phone.”

During the entire phone call, Y/n was mostly nodding while saying, “Yes”, or, “Sure, or, “I understand.” Some questions were also thrown around like, “Mine was attached to Yoongi?”, and, “Mine disappeared?”

A few minutes later, the call ended and Yoongi’s phone was back in his hand.

“Wow,” that was all she said.

“So, do you believe me now?” Yoongi bit his bottom lip.

“Now I understand why you lied to me.” Y/n giggled. “Had you not lied to me, I wouldn’t come with you.”

“That was what went in my head at the time.”

“But what if I believed the red string? Or if I could see them?” Y/n teased before shoving her ice cream into her mouth.

Yoongi was stunned for a while. “I’d like to not think about that.”

Y/n laughed so loud it was etched into his head permanently.

The ice cream date could only go so long before they had to part ways and go home.

“So, this is goodbye?” he asked nervously, the duffle bag still clasped in his hands.

Y/n shook her head and smiled. “No. I believe this is a ‘see you later’.”

“See you later, then?”

“See you. When you’re famous, please have a collab with me so I can be famous, too.”

Yoongi let out a genuine laugh for the first time since the fight with Y/n.

Though parting and saying goodbye were never his forte, at least he could let out a laugh. He wouldn’t want his ‘see you later’ ruined with tears or sobs.

Not only Y/n’s laugh was stuck in his mind, the way Y/n’s hand flicked when she waved at him would also be another memory of her he treasured the most.

He swore to himself he still remembered the way to the administration office, but somehow all memories of the campus suddenly disappeared once he went past the gates.

As he was trying to recall where the administration office was, his thoughts were interrupted with a loud cheer coming from a group of girls in graduation gowns.

He frowned and stared at the group, showing his displeasure.

“Wait, Yoongi?” A girl ran away from the group and hugged him, making him stagger.

Yoongi was about to scold whoever just hugged him when his eyes landed on a familiar face. It was Y/n, his old crush.

“Y/n?” He stared at her attire. “You’re graduating?”

Y/n nodded while flashing her teeth at him. “Surprise!”

“You didn’t tell me you’re graduating.”

“Well, it’s been a year since we last met, right? It’s time for me to graduate. I’m sick of this place.” Y/n glared at him while pointing to the map he was holding. “And you didn’t tell me you’re a student here.”

“It’s only right to study here after working here.”

“Still! What about your work?”

“My boss wants me to pursue a higher education.”

“Oh, I see.” Y/n turned around to look at her friends before facing back to Yoongi. “I’m almost done with my stuff.” Her eyes glistened in mischief.

With a bored look, Yoongi asked, “What do you have in mind?”

He still remembered how outgoing Y/n was. It was something he liked about her.

“You finish whatever you need to do, then meet me at our usual spot, then we go for ice cream. What do you think?”

“Is it another celebration?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“Of course.”

Yoongi’s smile was enough as an answer.

[Masterlist]

[Taglist]

@lyoongx @jjddk @babeejeon @thehopelessromanticclub @okvmv

Join/leave my taglist here

[spooky-bunnys]

Since we hit 900 followers, I decided to write a special prompt for you guys! Hope you guys like it!

(Name) frowned as he quickened his jog to a run. He'd forgotten to get his dad to sign off for him. So he had to be quicker if he wanted to go with his club to their practice match. He adjusted his mating collar. Trying to be quiet since he knows, a certain someone was following him.

As he finally saw the Karasuno gym he sped up. Only to trip going into the door way. Which not only interupted the practice happening, but also drew all attention to him. Curse his clumsiness!

(Name) quickly picked himself off the gym floor. As he brushed off his manager track suit he looked around for his dad. Not noticing multiple Karasuno players making their way over. The first aproach looked to be the captain. An Alpha if they were going by scent.

"Um excuse me. Can I help you?" (Name) quickly bowed and tried to answer. Only to stutter and make almost no sense. "A-Ah! I-I'm looking f-for my D-DAD!" (Name) watched as the surrounding males jump as he spoke. He wanted to throw his head through a wall. Curse his shyness!

(Name) covered his face an groaned quietly. The others chuckled at the site. Loving how the shy Omega reacted. Many cooed at him. Enjoying his reactions and scent. Not noticing his uniform or how uncomfortable he was becoming.

~

Coach Ukai sighed as he finished his cigarette. He was so ready to go home. Enjoy the food cooked by his lovely son, and maybe cuddle said son while watching some sports. Lord knows the last time they were able to relax together. Both have been extremely busy recently.

He's been busy with the store and coaching. (Name)'s been busy with school, managing volleyball, and his two mates. Ukai rubbed his temples. Yeah mates. His son has two. Both were ace's and fiercely protective of him.

Well now that he thought about it. He didn't blame them for being as protective as they are. His son is the most clumsy and shy person he's ever known. Which was odd considering his family is everything but shy. Well they've also never had an Omega born into their family before (Name).

So this was new for everyone. If he also added the amount of fans/admires (Name) has. He shivered. His son has been through so much to get to where he is. He couldn't be more proud either. Although he wishes (Name) would've gone to Karasuno where he could keep an eye on him. Though considering (Name) goes to his Dame's old school. He wasn't too upset.

As he made his way back towards the gym, he picked up a very familiar scent. (Scent). (Name). Ukai practically ran towards the gym. The scene he arrived in was one that made his blood boil. He sprinted towards the crowd and started punching the tops of their heads. "Oi! How dare you corner my son!?"

The crowd of groaning student didn't answer him. He pushed them away and stood in front of the trembling Omega. "You guys ought to be ashamed of yourselves! Can't you tell he's uncomfortable!" (Name) shuffled behind his dad and gripped the back of his jacket. Hiding from the others and wanting the comfort of his father.

Ukai immediately turned and started lightly scenting his son. Hoping to calm him down. (Name) slowly calmed and burried his head in his dads chest. Not wanting to see the others. Ukai heavily glared at them over his shoulder. "Laps. NOW!" The player quickly started doing laps around the gym. Not wanting to anger their coach more.

(Name) lightly tugged on his dads coat. Finally getting his dads attention. "U-Um. You need to um, s-sign me off f-for tomorrow." Ukai sighed and ruffled (Name)'s hair. "You could've waited for tonight instead of rushing over here." (Name) opened his mouth to answer but was interupted when the gym doors swung open. Revealing a the person (Name) had been avoiding.

Oikawa Tooru. (Name)'s biggest admirer. (Name) gulp and glung to his dad. Trying to hide himself. But considering they're wearing almost matching track suits it was hard to miss him. Oikawa skipped over to the two with a bright smile. "(Name)-chan~ why'd you run off without me?" He fake pouted.

Ukai tensed when he felt how much his son was trembling. So this was the Alpha giving his son so much trouble. "O-Oikawa-senpai!" Oikawa frowned and leaned towards (Name), ignoring the glare sent to him by the elder Alpha. "Haa! How many times do I have to tell you to call me Tooru?"

(Name) flinched and tried hiding more into his dad. Oikawa scoffed and turned towards the older Alpha. "Hello sir! You must be (Name)-chan's dad!" The glare was ignored as he smiled brightly. "I'm very interested in your son. May I court him?" The aura surrounding the trio darkened.

Scaring (Name) who quickly pulled out his phone. Texting the first contact he could get to. After the message was sent, (Name)'s phone was snatched from him. Startling him greatly. Oikawa was once again frowning and bent to (Name)'s height. (Name) looked away. Avoiding the stare from his upperclassman. Hoping the male won't come closer. He was wrong.

Oikawa stepped forward, which made (Name) stumble and land on the floor. By now everyone was watching them. (Name) had started crying and trembling more. "O-Oikawa-senpai. Y-You know I-I'm MATED!" (Name) felt his soul leaving his body at the scoff he received.

He hoped one of his Alpha's will save him soon. If not who knows what will happen at this rate! Oikawa rolle his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. But why those two buff idiots, when you can have me~", sparkles surrounded Oikawa. (Name) whimpered as Oikawa squated in front of him. Ukai having enough stood in front of Oikawa.

He glared daggers at the brunette. "Oi", Ukai growled the word. "(Name) is mated to two of the strongest Alpha's. If you keep bothering him. Its not gonna be pretty. Because not only will you have to deal with all of Karasuno", Ukai spread his arms out. Oikawa looked around. Noticing the glares and growls being sent his way.

"But you'll deal with us too Shittykawa!" Entering the gym was none other then (Name)'s two mates. Iwaizumi Hajime and Ushijima Wakatoshi. (Name) tripped over himself multiple times getting up. Trying to get to his mates arms. Where he felt the safest. Once close enough (Name) was snatched by both Alpha's.

Oikawa slightly flinched at the looks sent his way by the two in the doorway. "We've told you time and time again. To leave our Omega alone. But you never fucking listen." Iwaizumi handed (Name) to Ushijima who held him close. As he made his way over, Ushijima turned (Name) away from the scene. Scenting the hysterical Omega.

Once Iwaizumi stopped he released his pheromones. Which brought Oikawa to his knees almost completely. "This is my last warning Tooru. Leave our Omega alone. Or I'll have to explain to your mother, sister, and nephew on why you won't be coming home ever again." Oikawa wanted to scoff but decided against it. Not wanting to make matters worse.

Ukai stepped forward and gripped Iwaizumi's shoulder. "Oi hedgehog. You're pheromones are everywhere. Reel them in will you. You're gonna send (Name) into a drop." Iwaizumi quickly turned to where his Omega and brother Alpha was. (Name) was slightly pale and clinging to Ushijima. Overwhelmed.

Iwaizumi sent one more glare to his ex-childhood friend, before making his way back over. Once he was close enough and lightly grabbed (Name). Scenting him carefully. Not wanting to send him into a drop. While the trio was scenting one another. Ukai started down at the panting Oikawa. Disgusted. "If you even get near my son again. So fucking help me."

Oikawa scoffed. "I'm the team captain of his volleyball team." Ukai growled before turning to the trio. "Oi! Lovers!" The Alpha's heads snapped over. Listening while (Name) was practically asleep. "Starting next week (Name) will be going to Karasuno. So you either switch schools, or be prepared to spend less time together."

Iwaizumi smirked. "I'll gladly follow (Name) to Karasuno. Although we had been discussing going to Shiratorizawa." Ukai quickly shook his head. "Hell no! I barely see him enough as it is." Ushijima frowned and looked away. "Maybe I can move closer to Karasuno instead of moving schools."

Ukai shook his head at the trio. Then smirked at the glowering Oikawa. "Now someone get this garbage out of my gym!" Kageyama and Tanaka made their way over. Wide smirks across their faces. "Our pleasure coach!"

[pawnshopbleus]

Miller's Girl - Part One

Professor!Joel Miller x Fem!College Student!Reader Very Loosely based off of the new movie, Miller's Girl, starring Jenna Ortega and Martin Freeman

Summary - Your landlord decides to raise the rent in your studio apartment the day you are fired from your job. In need of money, you sign up for a babysitting service your friend suggested. You didn’t expect to get an offer so quickly, and you also didn’t expect to come from your professor.

Series contains - cursing, mature language, teacher x student relationship, age gap, smut, fluff, angst, non beta read chapters and everything else I forgot to mention

College, no outbreak, and modern AU

The record store in downtown Austin was filled to the brim with people excited to have their items signed by their favorite band. The crowd was a mix of teen girls with their dads and middle-aged men on their lonesome. The band in question was some underground band from the eighties that you had never heard of. 

Your co-worker, Emma, was in charge of keeping the crowd in check while you were manning the register. This wasn’t the first time you had done these signings. In the two years that you have worked here, hundreds of artists have come in and out of those doors. They attract their loyal fans to the store which can give it more publicity and customers. 

Your eyes scan the crowd. It was still pretty full, but the line had stopped trickling out of the doors and onto the sidewalk. You look over at Emma to see her standing with her weight on her left hip and her arms crossed. If you didn’t know her, you would have thought she looked like a bitch, but in all actuality, she is the nicest girl you know. 

The doors open and the bell above it rings. Your boss comes in and surveys the store. His bald head nods as he skims it. Nothing had been stolen and the customers looked happy. When his eyes land on you, your heart drops. You know that look. It was the same look he gave your other co-worker that look right before he fired him. You cross your fingers under the counter and plaster a fake smile on your face. 

Your entire world looks like it’s in slow motion. Your boss steps closer. Each step he takes makes your heart thump in your chest. The sound his thousand-dollar shoes make on the floor sounds like the bombs used on the battlefield. 

You don’t know if you either blacked out or passed out, but the next thing you knew, you were in the staff room gathering your things. This would be the last time you would ever step foot in this record store as an employee, but that should have been the least of your worries. You needed this job. Without it, you won’t be able to afford rent. Luckily, you were smart enough to get a full-ride scholarship for the university you attended, but there were still other expenses that needed to be paid. 

The hallway of your apartment building seemed colder than it usually is. The usual shushing of dogs who aren’t supposed to be in the apartment is replaced with static. The crickets weren’t even chirping. The sound of your breathing brought you out of your tiny rut. At least you were still alive.

The pink paper in front of your door made you stop in your tracks. You could read what it said from where you stood. ‘Rent will be increased to a thousand dollars a month’ was typed out in Times New Roman. Only pretentious bitches type in Times New Roman. 

You were sure that this was the work of the couple that bought the building six months ago. They promised the residents who lived there that the rent would stay the same, but the promise had just been broken. You were worried for yourself, sure, but you were also worried about the elderly people who couldn’t afford to go anywhere else. 

You wish nothing but the worst for the new landlords and make your way into your studio apartment. It’s a mess, just the way you left it this morning. Your cat, Bill, lays outstretched on your couch as if he were the one who just worked eight hours only to get fired at the end of it. 

You flop on your couch and sigh. For the first time in a while, you don’t know what to do. You just got fired and your rent got increased. If you can’t pay rent then you’ll become another homeless college student. Just another statistic to the state and a burden to the university. 

Your phone chimes and you almost cry with joy as you see your best friend’s caller ID flash across the screen. 

You pick up the phone and she begins talking immediately. She goes on and on about some boy she saw a the mall. He had icy blonde hair, but his roots were showing which meant that he wasn’t a natural blonde. This was a good distraction for about a few minutes until you realized that you wouldn’t be able to afford to go to the mall anymore. 

Your hot tears dribbled down your cheeks and fell onto your chest. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Cherry, I just got fired from my fucking job because my boss wants to buy more fucking shoes and my rent just got fucking increased because my landlords are fucking bastards!” You say through tears. “I think I just heard you say ‘fucking’ in that one sentence more times than I have heard you say it in your entire life,” Cherry laughs. 

“It’s not funny, Cherry. I'm going to be homeless!”

“Stop being dramatic. Sign up for flowers for one dot com. It’s a babysitting website where single parents find a babysitter for their children. My cousin did it for about a year and made more money than she does at her regular job.” 

For the first time in a very long time, Cherry gave you actual good advice. She gave you a solution to all of your problems. 

“Thanks, Cher, bye.” You hang up before Cherry has a chance to say goodbye. 

Your phone drops onto the couch and bounces off, falling on the floor. You suck in air through your teeth and grab your phone off the floor. You should be more gentle with it because you can’t afford to get a new one if it breaks. 

Flowers for one dot com was a simple website. It got straight to the point. No fancy explanation of ‘who are we’ or ‘why do we do this.’  You include the fact that you are certified by the Red Cross in CPR and that you are a senior at The University of Texas at Austin. You also add that you are majoring in architecture and the fact that you want to become an interior designer. 

Your profile is up and running in an hour. You look over it again and close your laptop. Your life is falling apart piece by piece, but maybe you should clean up a bit. 

The dirty clothes that were being neglected in the corner of your room are now in your hamper. You can see the hardwood floor that you’ll be paying a thousand dollars a month for. 

Your phone chimes once again, but this time it’s an email from the website. You almost drop your phone again as you read who it’s from. 

Joel Miller, Professor of Architectural Studies at The University of Texas at Austin.

I'm the pretentious bitch that writes in Times New Roman 🙋🏿‍♀️

[powderblueblood]

FOUR TIMES YOU WERE STRUCK INCAPABLE OF IMAGINING YOUR LIFE WITHOUT EDDIE MUNSON

(+ one, of the many, where he felt the same about you)

part of the hellfire & ice universe eddie munson x f!reader, reader is nicknamed lacy, you know the drill, minors dni only warnings are for fluff and eddie and lacy being cute and in denial word count: 2k tagging @chiefbonkpruneegg happy birthday pal <3 enjoy this nonsense

TRACK ONE: LET'S STICK WITH TELEVISION FOR TWO HUNDRED, ALEX

You and Eddie balance on either side of Ronnie Ecker's couch like faithful gargoyles, armed with soup and homework. Ronnie's caught the worst end of some green-gooed virus, so you two have taken it upon yourselves to deliver the necessities; tomato soup with extra hot sauce ("To snot out the demons," quoth Eddie) and history homework. But something on the television sucked you both right in, Poltergeist style, as you entered the Ecker trailer. Some hot young thing called Alex Trebek, captaining the maiden voyage of a brand new Jeopardy.

"You know who would kill on this show?" Eddie says, settling himself on the armrest to Ronnie's sniffling left.

"Guh, who?" Ronnie asks, huffing the steaming vapors of the spicy tomato soup like it's paint fumes.

You're pitched on the other armrest, pointing the rolled up history homework toward the screen. "What is the White H--US Treasury, are you fucking stupid?! Have these people never seen a twenty dollar bill before? What is the White House!"

You toss a glance over to Ronnie and Eddie for reassurance, just in time to catch them sharing a look. A good ol' Lacy know-it-all look. "Oh, shut up. as if I have more useless information rattling around in my brain than--"

Both you and Eddie snap at the TV in unison, "Who is Elvis Presley!"

Your turn to share a look. Game on? Game on.

It rolls on like that for a couple of categories, Ronnie sipping her soup straight from the container between you, hiding a smile as you and Eddie gradually bark louder and louder. Who are the Marx Brothers! What is 'break a leg'! Who was Napoleon!

"What, you're paying attention in History all of a sudden?"

"I'm a solid C student thanks to you, baby."

It occurs to you suddenly and begrudgingly and all at once; Eddie's right. You would kill on this show. But more than that, you want to wipe the floor and wring Eddie Munson out like the mop that he is.

"The greeting which opened each episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents."

"What is," both of you, in perfect Hitchcock tonality and without missing a beat, "Gooooood eeeeevening."

TRACK TWO: LIKE IF BECKY SHARP WAS FRIENDS WITH A BIG GOOFY HOUND DOG

Your first honest-to-god paycheck from the Bookstore was a fat wad of tens and singles plus change and it was handed to you in a brown paper bag. Invest this wisely, said Ivana, so of course, you followed your heart and your hard earned cash directly to the thrift store.

The front bell ding-a-lings and you walk through the door holding your moneybag aloft like the biggest, blue ribbon winning-est gourd at the county fair. You are proud as hell, because you did this! On your own! This isn't your daddy's money, this isn't the result of a once-toyed with idea that you might make a really good cat burglar, this was yours all yours!

"Put that down already! It's like you're wearing a sign saying mug me!" Eddie, bringing up the rear, yanks your arm back down by your side.

You laugh, mirthful and Hepburnian. "More like try me! I'm a working woman now, Eddie! I can hold my own! I can buy boots, guilt free, no strings, no blood money!"

"Uh-huh. consider that glass ceiling of having an after school job well and truly," he picks up a lamp from the scarcely populated homewares section, mimes slow-motion smashing it, "shattered!"

"Plus!" you cheerily pivot on your heel, a spring in your step that cannot be unsprung, even by Eddie's welcome to the real world, jackass flavored attempts. "Who would ever dare try and rob me when I've got a big, tough guard doggy like you three feet behind me at all times?"

Eddie's eyes narrow, like he's not all the way peachy keen on how you've pointed out your inseparability. But. He doesn't deny it either. A broken-stringed tennis racket bops you on the head.

"You owe me gas money."

"Shut up, please. I am shopping."

TRACK THREE: BUSTER MOVES

We'll always have the movies.

You sit, glassy-eyed, in your regular seats at the Hawk as The Cook starring Buster Keaton ticks along on the screen ahead of you. This Keaton retrospective, which you had been looking forward to for weeks, which you had been threatening to drag Eddie to for weeks, is going down a little... bland.

Not even that over-the-shoulder gaze that has Keaton beaming lasers of lust right into Virginia Rappe's skull adds any spice. You don't even bring up the whole scandal with her and Fatty Arbuckle, which would ordinarily be fertile territory to plow through with Eddie as a rapt audience.

In fact, you don't even tell him to kick his feet off the seats.

You've zoned out, because you still have the chill of the penitentiary's visiting quarters under your skin. Your dad and his cruelty that the bulletproof glass couldn't dull. The usual escape to the movies bit isn't doing the trick.

Then, you feel shaggy waves tickling your shoulder.

"I can do that."

"What?"

Directly in front of you, Buster is giving it his best Salome, his dance moves all angles. This display of pure deadpan goofiness was what made you obsess over Keaton in the first place, falling head over heels for a man who kicked it long before you were born.

And to your immediate left, you have Eddie Munson in your ear, telling you, "I can do that."

"No you can't," you say, and it doesn't sound like half the challenge it usually would.

Then, in a jolt that makes the whole row of rickety theater seats shake, Eddie's on his feet and stripping off his jacket. And before you can utter some totally perfunctory what're you... he's hot footing it down the steps to the splash zone, the front row, of the screen.

"You know I've seen this movie a million times?" Eddie says, projecting his voice right out like he's performing a one man show. Munson: Meditations on Dumbassery. You sit upright, glancing around to double-triple check that you're definitely alone in the screen. And you are-- Hawkins doesn't have as much a taste for the non-talkies as you do. And you were pretty sure that Eddie didn't either, and yet...

"Are you serious?" you ask, a laugh starting at the back of your throat.

"Does this look like a call and response? Let the maestro work, please," Eddie chides you over his shoulder, turning his back and hopping in place like a boxer about to take the ring.

And then, all of a sudden, he's... dancing? Sort of? Well, he's certainly moving his body, but it's nothing like what Buster's doing, and it's nothing like anyone's ever possibly done and not been hospitalized for, because the way his limbs are moving is borderline inhuman and you are laughing. Laughing, laughing, laughing in a way that feels like Eddie reaching right through the fog of your horrible, dissociative feelings and bringing you back into the light.

You toss popcorn at him and he totally fails to catch it in his mouth, his face lit up in shades of black and white by the projection.

"A million times, huh?"

Eddie, breathless, shrugs, "Alright, I lied. But you laughed."

Point to Munson.

TRACK FOUR: LIBERATING MY MAGAZINES

It was a favor that he'd agreed to before you even offered to buy him breakfast after, a favor that didn't need sweetening up. As his van rolled into Loch Nora, Eddie's brows knit a little bit-- and you wondered how much of him regretted saying yes so hastily.

"On a scale of one to felony..."

Your house hadn't been sold yet. Repossessed, sure, but not sold. It stood there, darkened and quiet and gathering dust and the sheer sight of it being the only house on your street with an overgrown lawn made your chest feel tight. You bet the neighbors had something to say about that. You bet the neighbors had a lot to say about you. Curtains were no doubt twitching when you and Eddie pulled up in front of your old driveway.

"It's fine. It's my stuff, anyway."

About a half hour later, Eddie drops a pile of slightly-weather beaten copies of Rolling Stone bearing your name and old address onto a table in the diner, the remnants of your now-cancelled subscription.

"You gotta wonder what they're putting in that new print format that kept those things from totally composting."

"Thank god they didn't! I need to finish that Tom Wolfe serial or I'll die," you declare as he picks up a menu and you rifle through the pile. "Order whatever. It's on me."

Eddie snorts. You're still carting around that dwindling brown bag of cash. "You don't have to do that."

"No," you say, eyes darting around to anywhere but his face, "but I want to. For helping me to liberate my magazines."

"Lace. I'd happily liberate your magazines without the promise of pancakes," his mouth twists into this little grin you can't help but think of as sweet, "but they do help."

"Order enough to keep us here for a while," you say, and pass him a Rolling Stone.

The next while passes silently between you two, passing issues back and forth until one of you picks out something the two of you can fight about. Eddie twists his rings around when he's reading; you gather this from the looks you keep sneaking.

It feels eerily relaxed. Slightly domestic. And by the end, over-caffeinated with the way you two are soundlessly cackling over an imagined world where the cover of Springsteen's Born in the USA isn't an ass shot, but a full-frontal dick shot. "But where does he put the flag?!"

It's one way to kill a Saturday.

SECRET SONG: SWAPPING NOTES

In the relentless waves of the morning crush to get to his next class, he almost misses you-- just like he'd like to almost miss this next class. But then, there you are with freshly-manicured nails digging into his elbow.

For whatever reason, you've taken it upon yourself to make sure that Eddie Munson doesn't skip! At least, where you can help it.

"Yoohoo! Spanish is this way," you say, reorienting him in the right direction in that insistent little way that you do. Eddie's pretty sure that if he sat on you, you'd snap, yet he lets you completely manipulate his clearly superior physical strength anyway.

"We're not in Spanish together!" he tries, a last ditch to get you to turn around so he can ditch.

"No, but French is juste par là so you are pas de chance, my friend!" you tell him with a stare that says I've been tracking your movements like a hunter, dumbass. See my big spear? From that gargantuan folder you're clutching, you dig out a paper. "I have that thing you wanted me to look at."

"Sssshut up, I don't need everyone to know," Eddie flushes. It's not homework he begged to copy from you for once. It is actually this comparative essay that he actually thinks he might not have completely screwed up. But he kind of wanted a professional not-screwer-upper-of-homework's point of view, so... that's why your little red pen marks are all over it.

"Why, whose reputation am I sparing?" He sees your point. You are basically walking arm in arm with him. You. "But, y'know, I was right about you! The thought is there, the execution just needs a little fine tuning."

"So it was..."

"Not amazing! But not awful. I've done my edits and you can just copy as per-- but absorb them, please, okay? Learn something?"

Eddie's head rolls back on his neck with this petulant groan and he almost clocks a freshman at elbow level, shaking his arms in total frustration. God, now you were giving him homework on top of his homework? He should have just paid you to do the homework!

"I hate when you want me to better myself! Shit!"

"Well!" you say, in that bright, adorable, annoyingly-self satisfied way, "I wouldn't do it if I didn't see potential, so suck on that."

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 44/?

Prev | Next

Two days after Tim left, Jason regretted giving him his phone number. Not because the kid was trying to convince him to return to Gotham but because he would text him at the most random times with the most innate things. Seriously, did he ever sleep? Why was he trying to find out who robbed a store and took only the left socks?

Okay, the last one was interesting, but why was he doing it at 2:42 a.m.? Go to sleep!

Jason rubbed his eyes and continued setting up the snacks for the first book club meeting. Ghost Writer was literally glowing at the prospect of the first meeting. Jason constantly reminded him to stop lighting up if he didn’t want to freak people out. After telling him the sixth time, Jason wondered if meeting in Ghost Writer’s bookstore was a bad idea.

He sighed, “Too late, now.”

Jason had used the bookstore’s website so people who signed up could also vote from six choices. It had been a close call, but most people chose Sense and Sensibility. Jason couldn’t overstate his happiness that the first book would be an Austen novel. Jason might not have read it in a while, but he had it almost memorized and found himself more engrossed than usual in the novel. They only had to read the first five chapters for the first meeting, but Jason couldn’t help but finish it in one sitting while Jazz had had the kids.

Jason looked up as the bell over the door rang. A middle-aged woman entered the bookstore. Jason recognized her from the school and greeted her warmly. Then, an older lady entered. She had curly, short silver hair and thick glasses that made her eyes look huge. Jason greeted her and pointed her toward the snack bar. Next was a couple who bickered with each other. It wasn’t loud, but it felt overwhelming in such an enclosed space. Jason hoped that they wouldn’t continue arguing with each other the whole time.

Next, a young woman who looked to be college-aged showed up. Her hair was in a bun, and she was dressed as if she were going to an interview. Jason looked down at his ratty T-shirt and holey jeans and suddenly felt ragged. A few minutes later, a guy with a bushy beard and covered in tattoos entered. He looked like a biker.

Jason couldn’t help but be excited as he talked to the people who had entered. Barring the couple, everyone seemed happy to be there. Jason heard the bell ring once more. His smile fell when he saw the person who had entered.

Avril fucking Dubois. Fuck.

Jason ignored Avril as much as he could. He refused to let her ruin this for him.

They went around and introduced each other. The couple, Henry and Vanessa, went first. Halfway through introducing themselves, they started bickering. Jason quickly went to the next person.

The older woman was Agnus.

“I’m so glad this book club started. I love literature, and most of the people I used to talk to are gone now. I hope being around you young people will give me new perspectives.”

“Welcome, Agnus,” Jason said. He had a feeling he would get along with her. Next was the college student.

“My name is Charlotte. I’m here to find like-minded people who enjoy reading as much as I do. I can bring new insights and hope to learn from other people’s points of view. I hope to be a good asset to this club.”

“Um,” Jason had no idea what to say in response to that introduction. “Well, welcome; just having you here is awesome.”

“Hello, Jay. I know you know me, but for everyone else, my name is Carrie. I love to read but have very little time to do so with my children. I decided I needed some ‘me’ time, so I joined. I can't wait to discuss literature with other like-minded people.”

“Name’s Jerry,” Biker dude said, “I’m here to broaden my horizons and to see more of the world through books. Happy to be here.”

Jason smiled warmly toward him. He loved that Jerry didn’t fit into the stereotypical bookworm category. It made Jason feel validated somehow. Of course, Avril had to ruin by sniffing at Jerry’s introduction and haughtily introducing herself.

“My name is Avril Dubois. I’m the president of the PTA at my children’s school.”

Why would anyone care about that?

“I studied literature and English in college, so I thought this club would be a good way to continue my love of literature and help spread what I know. It’s certainly nice to meet such a…interesting band of people.”

Jason gritted his teeth at Avril’s blatant insult and decided to introduce himself.

“Hello, my name’s Jay. I started this book club so I can talk and discuss with others the books I read. I am so glad to have so many people here who share my passion for the written word. I would also like to thank Mr. Edwards for letting us use his bookstore for this little club.”

Ghostwriter waved a hand and sat by Jason. Thankfully, he looked like a very pale man and wasn’t glowing.

“I put a little poll online, and Sense and Sensibility won. I’m excited to talk about this book. Austen is one of my favorite authors. So, did everyone read the first five chapters?”

The discussion started, and Jason had to admit (at least to himself and not Roy) that this was a good idea.

Jason couldn’t help but feel joy being in a group of people arguing whether or not it was Mrs. Dashwood’s fault that Elinor had to have sense and had become a parent due to Mrs. Dashwood’s habit of letting her emotions take over.

Even the couple stopped bickering with each other to gang up on Jerry and Agnus. At one point, Jason and Avril were on the same page. Well, weirder things, he guessed.

When the first meeting ended, Jason felt his core humming with happiness.

Jason personally saw everyone out—even Avril.

“Well, I was pleasantly surprised, Jay. Who knew you had some knowledge of Austen? Don’t be late to the PTA meeting tomorrow, if possible.”

Even Avril’s backhanded compliment didn’t bring Jason’s spirits (ha!) down. He couldn’t wait for the next meeting.

Quick disclaimer: I have never read Austen.

I tried to read it for this chapter, but it's not my cup of tea, so I did something I have never done before: I used cliff notes, lol. I kinda wish I could've gotten into it because I see so much of Jason in Marianne. For example, Jason uses his emotions to live his life, and it has caused him problems with his family

Likewise, I see bits of Jazz in Elinor. But since I can't really go into it I decided to put it here on the notes.

anyway, enjoy

@itsberrydreemurstuff @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon @all-mights-asscheeks @ender-reader @fuyu-bitch @ravenswife @randomafterthought @chaos-and-wtv

[pinkdaiisies]

hi! Can you write something for angus Tully where she goes to the sister school of Barton and maybe they have a meet cute in town??? After winter break

Angus Tully X Reader

745 words | i feel like i could write a second part to this. lmk if you guys would read.

Winter break was officially over. The new semester had started, and after your first week back you wanted nothing more than to find a new book in town to make the beginning of the semester somewhat enjoyable.

So that's exactly what you did. Once classes were over that Friday evening, you put on your big coat and scarf and marched into town. Perhaps you would even grab a coffee for the walk back! The walk into town wasn't too long, but it sure felt longer now that a light snow started to fall upon you.

On your walk there, you noticed a lot of the Barton boys headed into town as well. The rowdiness of the teenage boys took your usual quiet and scenic walk into a cold and treacherous journey.

St. Francis was Barton's sister school, meaning you were in forced proximity with loud teenage boys anytime you wanted peace and quiet away from campus. You were even forced to go to formals and spring flings with school! You didn't understand the appeal for any of the Barton students, you thought they were all stuck up and superficial.

Eventually, you made it to the second hand book shop that you loved so dearly. When you opened the door the bell on top of the door rung, and you were met with the labyrinth of stacked books on the floor and bookshelves.

The smell of old books comforted you as you started your hunt for Franny and Zooey by J.D Salinger.

The somewhat alphabetized shelves helped, until you were looking between the S's and the T's with still no sign of the book. You started to run your finger along the books faster and reading the names quicker until you bumped into someone.

""Oh! I'm so sorry-" You started to apologize when you noticed the white book with the green spine in his hand. "That's Franny and Zooey." You said matter of factly. Your eyebrows pinched in annoyance.

"Yes, it is." The tall boy with curly hair said. "I've been wanting to read it for months." The boy flipped through the pages quickly with his thumb.

"I walked here in the snow for that book. Its the only copy they have on the shelf!" You argued, although, you knew deep down the mystery boy had beaten you fair and square to the book. You felt like making him feel a little sorry for you though.

"Well I'm sorry, but I was in here 15 minutes before you, so I don't know what you want me to say. I'm Angus by the way." He threw his name in there at the last second, and for a second, you took your attention off the book and onto the boy in front of you. He was tall... and not too hard to look at. You could tell he went to Barton though by the way he wasn't letting you have the book. Despite the fact that he was handsome, you were not walking out of the book store without that book.

You mumbled your name back in politeness. You needed that book, but had no other way to argue him out of it. You two fell into an awkward silence.

"I'll tell you what, I go to Barton. I'm guessing you go to St. Francis?" You nodded at his question. "Okay so, how about you let me read the book first, and in a week from now we can meet up and I'll lend it to you?" Angus negotiated with a flirtatious smirk.

You figured his idea was pretty reasonable. Either that or his smirk was working.

"Okay. Deal." You reached your hand out for a handshake. He copied you, but you pulled your hand away at the last second. "Only, if you buy me a coffee for my walk back. I'm not going back to school empty handed." You put your hand out again, only this time Angus hesitated. Was coffee to far? Did he not want to be seen out in public with some random girl?

"Deal." Angus smiled as he reached out for your hand. You sighed a breath of relief.

The handshake lasted longer than a handshake should ever be. Angus held incredibly good eye contact with you. Too good... You looked away with a faint blush on your cheeks.

The walk back to St. Francis was better than the walk into town. Coffee in hand and a new friend by your side.

[hippopotamusdreamer]

Doctor, Doctor

genre. [AU] [M] [PS]

warnings. 18+ due to violent nature, Blood, Bleeding, Wound description, You stick your fingers in there???, stitching up a wound, Bullet

additional notes. Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns, Mafia!AU, Lee Know as Cat Man, Jisung as Buffoon, Changbin as Buff Man, Felix is there too!

pairing. Idk yet? Depends on if people want more

w.c. 2K

synopsis. You were just a simple med student, you didn't sign up for this part of the medical world just yet.

Kpop Masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

You think your neighbors were up to something.

Either that or they were fucking. A lot.

You moved into your place on the halfway decent side of town not even 2 weeks ago. While trying to get your undergrad in the medical profession, expenses were limited for obvious reasons. So when this studio apartment suddenly became available on the market, you jumped at the chance.

The location was slightly questionable but well enough for you that you could walk to and from campus without much of an issue.

The problem now was the constant noise that bumped against your bedroom wall in the middle of the night when you were trying to study. You tried wearing headphones to block it out but after a particularly harrowing moan 3 nights ago, you had yanked the already frayed device out of your ears so fast that they practically disintegrated in your hands.

Bye-bye headphones.

‘Maybe they’re masochists…,’ you thought with both intrigue and concern as you walked back to your apartment, groceries in hand. It was a nearing six o’clock when you had left the grocery store. Only a twenty minute walk back to your place and you’d rather not be caught out in the dark if you could help it.

You contemplated more about your neighbors on your walk home. Mysterious beings that they were. You still had yet to meet them, let alone figure out how many people actually stayed there. You suspected that they work at night though. Only because when you were not in your classes, you were at home studying and was usually quiet on their side. Around nine, nine thirty was when signs of life started to appear.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You were in the middle of highlighting the answer for the treatment efficacy results of complete blood counts for a final exam review when a pounding on your door broke you out of your concentration. The yellow of the highlighter now smudged and imperfect on your notes.

You frown as you glanced at the clock on your wall. 9:45 PM jumped out at you in bright LEDs.

Another succession of pounding on your door made you focus on the matter at hand.

Shoving your arms into a bathrobe you had, you reached your front door. Already a commotion could be heard on the other side. Muffled voices that only got clearer the closer you got.

“Damn it I.N open the damn door!”

‘I.N?’ You thought, confusedly.

The one thing you hated about these older apartments was that the doors, though really heavy, did not have a peep hole installed. So it was always a mystery whenever anyone stopped by. This always led you to be slightly weary whenever you weren’t expecting a package or anyone over.

Opening your door, you barely had enough time to step back in order to miss the fist that was connecting with the sturdy material. Big boba eyes stared at you in shock and confusion until he was pushed all the way through the frame. Caught off guard, you could only lean down to help him up.

“Outta the way Jisung,” another man huffed while stepping over him. He and a buff man were carrying a bloodied person between them. You were frozen on the spot as they came further and further within your apartment.

“Wait guys—,” The one in your arms said while trying to get their attention.

“Changbin, the couch.”

“Right.”

They completely ignored the two of you by the door.

“Guys, this isn’t—,” The man in your arms kept trying to butt in.

“I.N hurry, Lix’s lost a lot of blood already,” both men finally looked back towards the door. Confusion clouding their faces and yours zeroed in on the trail of blood that led to your couch.

Medical professional mode activated.

You immediately let go of the guy you had and made your way to the one in need of your help. With an oomph, he landed back on the ground once again.

At your couch, you pushed the two guys out of the way and examined the one not moving. Upon first glance, you could tell this one was messed up big time. Bleeding profusely from a wound on his thigh, face beaten to a pulp. From what you could see of his hands, both were battered and bruised which led you to believe that the rest of his arms didn’t fare any better. His face was littered in freckles and various cuts as well. A nasty busted lip and a swollen eye to add to the fray.

‘Just what the hell did this guy get into...’

You quickly moved into action. Removing your robe, you grabbed the scissors that were on the coffee table from earlier that day and started in on cutting open the unconscious one’s pants. Using the excess fabric as a way to staunch his wound to the best of your ability. His blood immediately staining your hands.

“Hey, wait—,” the cat like one tried to stop you. You had no time for his nonsense though as the time was ticking for your impromptu patient. A small part of you hoping the medical board wouldn’t find out about you practicing without a legal license.

Grabbing him by his shirt collar, you pulled him in practically nose to nose. The blood on your hands already smearing on his neck, “The longer you keep me from doing what I gotta do, the faster he bleeds. Do you want him to bleed out even more or not?”

The surprised look on his face as he shook his head was enough for you to let him go.  You grabbed the belt of the robe out of its loops and began to wrap it around the bleeding thigh, a few inches above the wound. Looking around, you grabbed your remote and placed it there too. A makeshift tourniquet.

Without turning away you addressed the other one that carried him in, “You, Buff Man…”

“Y-yes?” He stuttered out in shock at being caught off guard.

“I need you to tie this as tight as you can, got it? Put those muscles to use,” you commanded him to take the reins of the belt. He doesn’t say anything, just does as told. Taking your robe, you began to try to wipe away the remaining blood. You could already tell the tourniquet was working as the blood flow began to slow down.

“You, buffoon on the ground,” you yelled to the one still by the door. He jumps in response. “My bathroom, only other door in this place, there’s a brown glass bottle of iodine in the cabinet. Bring me that.”

He looked briefly at the cat like man before nodding his head quickly and scrambled away.

“Cat man,” you called out, continuing to clean the area.

He grunts in acknowledgment and the buff one gives a small snark in return as he finished his task.

“Top kitchen drawer, there’s a mini sewing kit and a bottled water from the fridge.”

The first one you sent off returned with an unsure look on his face. Handing you the bottle, you made sure it was the correct one. Unfortunately, you could feel the one below you starting to stir awake. The next few moments were about to get even uglier.

“Good job, now hold his shoulders.”

“What?”

Cat Man walked in then, both items you’ve asked for in hand. Without a word, you opened the water and cleaned the leg of the remaining blood. A slow trickle of the open hole was only left. What really worried you was the fact that whatever did this, there was no exit point. The wound itself was pretty neat, so that was good sign. No jagged edges and as far as you could tell there were no broken bones. It didn’t seem like his femoral artery was hit either. But there was only one way to know for sure.

Without a seconds delay, you opened the bottle of iodine and poured it on both the thigh wound and rubbed it on your hands. What a time to not have gloves in your apartment.

All three men stared at you in concern but you disregarded them. You had a self-appointed job to do.

Taking a grounding breath, you addressed Buff Man once again.

“Hold his legs…”

No warning, you stuck your fingers into his wound and everything popped off. The men started screaming and the one on your couch woke up. You couldn’t imagine the pain that he was feeling. There were a ton of nerve endings in the thigh and you were hitting a majority of them as you continued to dig deep. His bloodcurdling roar of pain was a sound that would haunt you as you lived your days.

“Hold him down!” You barked out as you used your fingers to feel for any obstructions in his wound.

The three men do as you ordered and hold the freckled man down. They struggled against his adrenaline fueled movements.

“Stop, it hurts!” he bawled.

“I know Lix, it’s almost over,” Cat Man tried to comfort. “ It is almost over isn’t it?” He tried to ask while addressing you.

However, you don’t respond as your nail caught onto something that shouldn’t be in there. This caused the guy to seize in even more pain as whatever it was bumped into his bone. His arms coming up to claw into the men at his head. Buff Man steady in struggling at his legs as they tried to kick him off.

“No please! Stop it!” His breathing became erratic and matched your own as your thumb and forefinger clamped onto the foreign object. Clenching your teeth, you hoped your fingers didn’t slip as you pulled it out.

Seconds felt like hours when you finally managed to free it. You don’t even have time to react to the bullet now in your hand so much as to just check to see if it was all intact. He passed out again through sheer pain and you tossed the bullet to the side. Now was not the time for questions.

Picking up your discarded and bloodied bathrobe you swiped the area clean to the best of your ability once again. Opening your sewing kit, you took more iodine and sanitized it before taking a piece of thread. With a hell of a lot of concentration you managed to insert it into the eye of the needle and made to begin stitching him up.

“I don’t have anything to numb with him but this has to be done…,” you whispered more to yourself than anyone else in the room.

Holding your breath, you don’t think about how you’re stitching up some random guy who has just bled all over your apartment. Whose friends busted into your private space without so much as a sorry. Who, thanks to this entire ordeal, could mean the loss of your—

Oh, you were done stitching.

Tying off the string, you finally looked at the others. They looked just as tired as you felt. It was quiet now that the guy on your couch was out again.

“He’ll need antibiotics and a hell of a lot of rest. He lost a fair bit of blood but he’s stable,” you relayed as you looked around your place. From the front entrance, the trail of blood that led to you and the puddle that was getting sucked into your upholstery.

“But he’ll be ok?” Cat Man asked.

“Yeah, he’ll be ok,” you said, nodding slowly

He mirrored your actions and only says, “Ok, we’ll be in touch.”

Huh?

“We’ll send someone to clean this up but for now we’ll keep him here,” he steamrolled.

“But what a minute—”

“If anything happens to him while we're gone, we aren’t the only ones who would come after you.”

‘Just what the hell did I get into...’

a/n. I might make this a series? I have to see how well people take it, so I left it open ended. I'll put it in One-Shots for now and if people want more I'll move it to Series.

Tag List (Open): @elizalabs3

This in no way reflects the actual persons involved/based in this fic, nor their actual character. This is purely fiction.

© hippopotamusdreamer, est 2024. all rights reserved.

[jeridandridge]

Cosmic Love

The soulmate AU where something significant your soulmate says appears on your skin. Only Melissa doesn’t have anything on hers. I had to use the wordTesoro because it just sounds so pretty.

Ever since you could remember you loved the idea of a soulmate. Someone that the stars created just for you. You loved hearing the stories of how people met their soulmates, comparing the words that appeared on one’s skin in a gorgeous shade of gold. When you were a child, your parents assured you that your soulmate would love you no matter what and that they would be able to communicate with you easily.

Since you lost your hearing in an accident as a toddler, you opted not to speak. When you reached your teen years you would lay in bed at night tracing the single word that glistened on your upper arm.

Tesoro

The single word plagues you even in your early thirties. You date casually and have a few ex partners even though you knew none of them were your soulmate, now as an adult you realize not everyone meets their other half and you don’t know if you even have one since you cant speak. Little did you know you’d meet your soulmate in the most perfect way.

“Y/n. Thank you for coming.” Jacob says as he signs slowly.

Walking up to the door where all the kids are entering the school you keep your hands moving.

“Thanks for inviting me. Zack said you could use some help.” You smile.

“Hey, kid who’s this?” Melissa comes up to Jacob after shuffling her kids inside.

“Melissa! This is y/n.” He explains and signs. “She’s a friend of zacks, she’s helping me with a deaf student.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the red head giving her a wave and mouthing hello. She certainly was pretty. You pay attention to the two, your eyes going to glossed lips as the woman speaks.

“I’m Melissa, nice to meet you,” she offers a friendly nod.

Jacobs almost relieved that his co worker wasn’t giving you the cold shoulder.

Later on in the day you sit at a table in the break room talking with Janine through the notes app on her phone and reading lips. She’d been very bubbly and kind but every so often your eyes drifted over to the red head across the room for a split second.

Somehow, you Janine, and Jacob end up on the subject of soulmates.

“You don’t think you’ll meet yours?” The teacher asks you. You can only scrunch your nose and shake your head in response.

Melissa groans turning to face your table and Jacob watches with curiosity from the counter. “Can you guys talk about literally any other topic?”

“Come on, Melissa. Don’t tell me you don’t believe in soulmates.” Janine tells her. Barbara sitting quiet as ever shoots her a warning look as if to say stop.

You look at the older woman with a curious expression, strangely intrigued by her.

After a few weeks and a couple visits to the school, you’re out and about one day when you run into Melissa at the grocery store. You greet her with a smile and name sign, even though you’ve never told her what sign you gave her. she quirks a brow seeing the items in your cart.

She smiles and reaches for her phone quickly typing out a message.

“If you’re making pasta get rid of the canned crap.” You look up at her with a light chuckle and a shrug gesturing for her phone. When she hands it over you type quickly with a stupid smile.

“Not all of us are wizards in the kitchen, Schemmenti.”

For whatever reason the red head playfully rolls her eyes and types something else.

“Come to my place sometime this week, I’ll show you how to cook a real meal.”

You have to school your normally expressive features when you read the message, though you think she can see the flush that you can feel spreading across your cheeks.

“Is this a trap?” You look at her quizzically with a smirk.

Thankfully Melissa catches the joke and visibly laughs. God it’s a pretty sight.

Later that week, you show up at Melissa’s house at 6 o’clock on the dot knocking on the door.

When the red head answers you can’t help but beam and move your hand for her name sign and a hello.

She has her hair up in a ponytail and a Jean over shirt on. It was different from her leather pants and long sleeved shirts you usually admired her in.

“Come on in, hon.” She gestures with a smile.

You step in and hand her a bottle of wine you brought as you hold your phone screen up so she could read it.

“Don’t worry, the guy at the store paired it with what we’re making not me.”

Melissa laughs walking beside you instead of in front of you so you could still read her lips.

“You can let me grill you about Jacob while I cook.”

You nod and let out a chuckle, this time missing the look in Melissa’s eyes when she hears your laugh.

While Melissa cooks, you watch and read her lips when she explains whatever she’s doing. You’re in awe as she moves around the kitchen in her element.

When dinner is ready, you both sit at the table and she watches you take a bite of the pasta. When the ingredients explode on your taste buds you let your shoulders slump as you nod giving her an enthusiastic thumbs up and the sign for amazing.

As the evening goes on, you’re surprised at how kind and open Melissa is with you. From what Jacob had told you, she wasn’t like this with everyone.

As you two sit and chat, Melissa opts for a notebook and pen while you read her lips. The conversation turns to soulmates at one point, you shrug and try not to seem to interested since the red head clearly doesn’t like the topic.

“Why don’t you believe in them?” You write out, genuinely curious.

The older woman looks at you with a shrug. “I don’t have any words on my body.” She explains.

That’s when the realization hits you. It couldn’t possibly be.

Melissa being Melissa and not wanting any pity, she changes the subject before you can reply.

“Can you tell me what the sign is for me?” She asks curiously. You can’t help but duck your head a bit before a shy smile spreads across your lips. You make the motion for ‘Beautiful’ before writing the word on the paper.

Melissa’s lips part slightly like she’s going to say something, but she keeps her eyes on the paper. Thinking you messed up you start to write at the speed of lightning on the note pad.

She reaches over resting her hand over yours to get your attention.

“It’s okay.” She smiles. “You know I have a nickname for you too.”

You give her a quizzical look.

Melissa bites her lip and plays with your fingers. “Tesoro.”

Not sure if you’re seeing things, your eyes go wide and you pull your hand back to tap the notepad with the pen handing it to her.

Melissa smiles fondly and in elegant cursive writes the word out. Your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

You take a staggered breath and hold up a finger before you pull your shirt sleeve all the way up exposing the gold letters on your upper arm.

Melissa’s eyes fixate on the word before a shaky hand reaches out, her gold rings almost matching the color on your skin. Now you understood why she hated the topic of soulmates so much.

She didn’t think she had one.

You can’t talk, but you’ve never needed words to get your point across.

You see tears well in gorgeous green eyes, a single tear sliding down her cheek and you can’t stop yourself. Leaning over you wrap your arms around her frame, your hand on her back in a gentle squeeze. You feel the woman take a shaky breath as she hides her face in the crook of your neck, her arms around your shoulders.

You rest your head against Melissa’s, hoping the warmth of the hug says everything.

I’m sorry it took me so long. I care about you and I’m not going anywhere.

[solitaszn]

curtains ch. ii | ted lasso ✧˚ · .

Pairing: Ted Lasso x Fem!Reader Summary: You just invited Ted back to your flat and things start getting interesting after a drink... Warnings: SMUT, 18+ under the cut (minors dni), porn without plot?, oral (f receiving), protected sex (wrap it before you tap it), Ted aims to please Word count: 1.6k

chapter 1

"Do you want to come in?" "We can have that drink if you want," he said, already making you forget how tired you were.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, we can."

"Great, come on." You grabbed his hand and opened the door. A flush of light pink sprawled across his cheeks.

Once inside, he could tell he had stepped into what he could only call the inside of your brain. Framed movie posters lined the entrance, along with a random open neon sign. It was a very random flat that he thought no one else could live in but you. None of the overhead lighting was on, only ambient lamps and signs were turned on to create a warm mixture of colors. He sat on your couch, bouncing on it.

"I’m just going to change real quick, and I’ll be right back."

"Take your time!" Ted looked around and picked up a small wooden bird, playing with it, his hands making it smaller than it seemed.

You walked back out with a pair of gray gym shorts, a huge graphic tee, and your fuzzy socks. “What are you doing?” you did in a deep loud voice. He jumped and dropped the miniature bird with a soft thud. “Jeez!” he choked out. You laughed as you walked over to your liquor counter, poured some whiskey, and cracked open a can of soda. "You want some in yours, Ted?"

"Oh no, thanks; I’ll just have it straight."

"Suit yourself," you said, handing the drink to the mustached man.

"Thank you, well, this flat is certainly you, I didn’t know you were such a fan of movies."

"Well, you never asked Ted," you said, taking a sip of your whiskey and coke.

An hour or so had passed, and you and Ted passed those hours laughing till your sides hurt and telling stories.

"So then there I was in the middle of the student store trying to buy a hoodie, and my phone started playing Anaconda at full blast," you say, laughing.

Ted chuckles and smiles at you, his eyes lingering on your lips a little longer than they should’ve.

"Oh god,” you check your phone, “It's so late, Ted, and I’m so sorry for keeping you here for this long," you apologize. This time your eyes linger over Ted’s lips, then his eyes that are almost glossy from the strong drink.

"No, it’s alright... I was actually going to…” He turns to you, you catch his head with both hands and pull him into a kiss. You don’t want him to leave; he’s surprised at first but then cradles your head. You pull away, your eyes wide from embarrassment. 

"Oh my god, Ted, I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking."

He pulls you into another kiss with a finger on your chin, deepening it. You moaned into him, tasting the whiskey he had just finished, which left a bittersweet taste as it mixed with your soda from earlier.

"I knew you were staring at me in the office," You said, pulling away and touching your forehead on his. His hands around your waist, guiding you to his lap.

"I know I’m sorry sweetheart, you’re just so beautiful."

His hands started traveling up your shirt while you kissed his neck.

"You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to kiss you in your office, ever since we met," he said, his voice trembling under your touch. He lifted you up from the couch and you began to unzip his puffer jacket. Soon enough there were clothes trailing from your couch to your room, your lips still attached to his and the two of you in your underwear.

“Please Ted…” you sighed as his lips traveled down your neck. You laid yourself on the edge of the bed as he explored every inch of your body, taking it in as delayed gratification. And god did you deserve it too. His hands stayed attached to your hip bones and traced the light green lace of your panties, taking every gentlemanly action of his to not hook his fingers through them and throw them off of you. 

“Baby I really wanna mmh” he said as he made his way down your side. You sat up unclipping your bra followed by your underwear, you kissed him and laid back down. “Can I?” he said looking down. You never had a man go down on you before, but the whiskey gave you that boost of confidence.

“Yes- yeah- please.” you eagerly said. Ted got down and kneeled in front of the bed. Opening your legs by your knees and removing your hands. He started kissing from one knee until he got down to your soft inner thigh, his side of his face rough from not shaving in a few days followed by a tickle from his mustache. “Don’t hide from me baby, your body is perfect,” his voice got huskier than his normal peppy accent with the almost cartoony drawl that you adored.

You barely heard what he said as he followed it with licking up your folds, his nose burrowing itself into you, the newfound pleasure making you arch and your breath hitch. Ted held your legs down by putting them over his shoulders and wrapping his arms around your thighs. His hums filled the room followed by your soft pants that started growing louder. 

“You can be louder than that honey, my neighbors are gone.” he said, you looked down taking a first glimpse of Ted’s once honey brown eyes now hungry dark brown and his lips and chin wet from you. You whimpered at the sight of him, you couldn’t tell if you got lightheaded from the alcohol or the way he groaned into you when you weaved your fingers into his hair tugging his brown locks. You pulled once more when you came close.

“Teddy I’m so close…so fuck-,” you said. He could feel you getting wetter, when he detached himself from you, moaning at the loss of contact.

He got up from his knees and you saw the tent forming in his gray boxer briefs, he was a lot bigger than you expected. “Do you um? Have anything- I mean..a condom?” he said. You opened a box that included a few foil packages and your tiny bullet vibrator. You grabbed the gold foil and passed one to him followed by a kiss. 

“Don’t you worry darlin’, I’m gonna make you feel good.” he pulled down his underwear and rolled the condom down his cock. Watching him made you wriggle on the bed, deep down Ted loved the way he had you right now. He wanted to take a photo of you and save it for days he couldn’t be near you.

He knelt on the bed this time, pulling you toward him and lining himself into you. It took a second for you to get used to his size, Ted was stuck in a daze with how wet and warm you were around him. He hadn’t even bottomed out in you when you moaned his name, he swore he could’ve came from how pornographic you sounded to him. It was only when he was fully in you when you started to grind on him, begging him for more.

“Please T-Ted, oh god baby please fuck me,” you said as he began to rock his hips in and out. “Sweetheart, you’re so tight, f-fuck.” A string of profanities fell from his lips as fast as his hips snapped in and out of you. You ran your nails down his back making his grip that much tighter. “Just like that, ah- fuck Ted right there!” He watched you with your eyebrows knit together, eyes shut and mouth open with bliss, he brought his hand in between the two of you and circled your clit. A moan getting caught in your throat. 

“Ted, I’m so- I’m so, so close!” you cried. “Fuck darlin’, I’m gonna-” he choked. A wave of pleasure went through you as his thrusts got deeper and you felt yourself dripping down your legs and holding Ted’s shoulders to keep yourself from going limp. His orgasm followed as he stilled in you and buried his head into your shoulder groaning, “Fuck fuck fuck, you’re so good, so good for me sweetheart.”

He rolled over next to you as you both caught your breath, the sight of his messy hair sticking to his forehead and his face having that pink tinge you saw earlier. Soon he got up to get a towel, cleaned you up and pulled your sheets over your body, kissing you and thanking you. “That was amazing, you’re really somethin’ else honey.” He said picking up his boxers from the ground and pulling them back up. You got sad for a second watching him pick up his clothes.

“Are you leaving?” you asked. “Oh, I mean I’m sure you don’t want me here-” “No” you cut him off. “Please? Stay?” you said. “You don’t mind?” he questioned. “Of course not Ted, come back to bed.” His gaze softened at you and walked back to the side of the bed, picking up your clothes along with his and placing them on a chair. He picked out his white undershirt and pulled it over his head and then handed you your shirt and underwear, like the gentleman he is. Pulling back the sheets, he settled into bed with you. Gazing at you with hearts in his eyes while you put your clothes back on too. “You’re so beautiful, gosh,” he said. Your face reddened as he pulled you in for a kiss to cap off the night. After that you started to drift off to sleep and could hear the quiet snores coming from the mustached man, after a while his arms snaked around your waist and he pulled you in, his head resting on your chest. You kissed his head and whispered, “Goodnight Teddy.”

Taglist: @snixx2088 @tegan8314 @hart-kinsella @hislittlegirlll @elkitot @crosbyssids @rxllingstones

[those70scomics]

Fictober Day 9: "don't listen to me, listen to them"

That '70s Show Fanfiction

Hyde paced W.B.'s office at Grooves's headquarters. Angie was present, as was Jackie. She'd taken time off from her busy-as-hell schedule for this meeting.

"It's a dumb idea," he said. "I shouldn't have even brought it up."

"It's not dumb, and I'm happy that you told us about it." W.B. grasped Hyde's arm, stopping him near W.B.'s desk. "You're turning twenty-nine in less than two months. You're engaged. You should want more."

Angie's facial expression showed that she'd been waiting for this day. "I dreamt of running a record store since I was a kid. Then of running all of Grooves someday, and now I'm the company's senior VP of operations. You're allowed to pursue your dreams, too."

"I've already got more than I ever freakin' dreamed." Hyde glanced back at Jackie, who'd remained silent so far. "It ain't fair to to risk it all."

"You don't think creating Grooves was a risk?" W.B. said. I was married to Angie's mother, who was pregnant with Angie. We needed the security of a regular paycheck, but her mom wanted me to be happy. And my risk eventually paid off more than anybody could've imagined."

Hyde gestured in defeat. "I can't imagine this workin'."

Jackie stepped toward him and touched his hand. "Neither can I."

"Exactly."

"But don't listen to me. Listen to them."

Hyde stared at her. "Who the hell are you, and what've you done with my chick."

"Steven." She jostled his hand. "I'm redesigning my whole spring collection. I can't imagine that working either, but I'm doing it anyway. This time next year on October ninth, 1990, you'll have put out your first record on your own label."

"A sub label of Grooves Records, of course," Angie said with a smirk.

Hyde bowed his head and hunched his shoulders. "That's nepotism."

"That's expanding the family business." W.B. patted Hyde's back. "I'm not taking an opportunity away from anyone else. You've earned this. The demos you've played me, you have the ear, son."

Hyde sat in the closest chair. His legs were shaking from what was being said, being offered.

"You've been apprenticing under Frankie Branch to learn audio engineering, music production, for how long?" W.B. continued. "Picked up the guitar expertly in three years of lessons and learned as much by listening to songs. Taught yourself bass guitar. Became Cam's favorite drum student, and that's saying a lot."

Angie gazed at the high ceiling and shook her head. "Edna and Bud gave you no chance to realize you have perfect pitch. You didn't understand what you were capable of. You've had to play catch-up in your mid-twenties."

Jackie stood in front of Hyde and rubbed his arms over his long sleeves. "Your childhood was stolen from you. You once told me all the doors were locked for you but one. Your family, your true family, has unlocked so many. You've walked through a lot. Don't shut this door and walk away."

Hyde covered his face in his hands. His emotions were getting to him, breaking through his defenses. As a kid, Formans' folks signed Forman up for jazz guitar lessons, which he abandoned. Only the acoustic guitar remained, and Hyde played that thing every second he could at the Formans' house.

He used Forman's beginners' workbook to learn tabs that were printed alongside sheet music. Hyde couldn't read music for shit, but tabs he got. Songs on the radio, on records, stuck in his skull like recordings. He figured out how to play the guitar parts himself and, back then, had no clue why could do that.

He understood now.

"Son, are you all right?" W.B. said.

Hyde raised his head and wiped his eyes. "Yeah. Just ... when ya don't believe something's possible for you for so damn long -- and then it happens? Kind of a mind fuck."

"So you'll start your label?" Jackie smiled at him with such hope, such support, he would've fallen in love with her if he hadn't already fallen twelve years ago.

"Yup."

Jackie cheered, and W.B. congratulated him in a proud, fatherly way Hyde was still growing used to.

"What are you going to call it?" Angie said.

Hyde grinned. "Burn-Out Records."

[strangesthirdeye]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 3: ᴅɪᴅ ʜᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ɪɴsᴜʟᴛᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ʙʀᴀɪɴ?

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Prologue > Chapter 1 > Chapter 2 > Chapter 4

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next day, you both started your 'adventure' by riding the tube in London. Hagrid had to bend his body slightly just to get into the tube and he took two seats in front of the two of you just to fit his massive body which you found quite amusing because some people were surprised to see Hagrid.

Some distance themselves from Hagrid because.. Scared of him. Now you are both settled in the tube comfortably. Hands clutching the letters in your grasp. You who wear a dark brown jumper and checker oversize jacket along with baggy bronze pants which you have to use a belt just to keep it from being loose sits closely to Harry.

You were so excited today that you read the magical letters many times.

"First year students will require: three sets of work robes, one wand." Harry reads out loud enough for you and Hagrid to hear.

You looked at Hagrid interestingly. "Wands? As in sticks that have magic?"

Hagrid chuckled lightly. "Yes, Essential bit of equipment, Y/n, Harry"

You pursed your lips to hold back your excited squeal. This is like the book you used to steal and read in your old school library. And this, it's like come out of a book.

Harry then turned his gaze on his letters back. "One pair of dragon-hide gloves" Harry stopped and shifted his eyes to Hagrid. "Hagrid, do they mean for a real dragon?"

Hagrid looked at him oddly. "Well, they don't mean a penguin, do they?" Hagrid said.

"Dragons exist?" You are more excited.

"o' course they exist, big old rascals! Heh, crikey. I'd love a dragon" Hagrid beamed.

"You'd like a dragon?" Harry said.

You stared at him intently, very interested to hear Hagrid talk about something he liked

"Vastly misunderstood beasts, Harry." he said with his gruff voice. Hagrid then to the woman who seemed to be heard what Hagrid said. He nodded at her and the woman returned it before re-reading her paper.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"All students must be equipped with... One standard size pewter cauldron and may bring, if they desire, either an owl, a cat, or a toad. Could we find this in London, Hagrid? I mean, I can understand if we find a cauldron in London but an animal? Do we have to go into the forest to get it or what?" You looked up to Hagrid, dumbfounded.

Hagrid who was walking next to you turned his gaze on you and stared at your face amusingly before he laughed lightly. "aye, we don't need to hunt animals to get it, Y/n. We just need to go to the right place to find it" Hagrid replied.

Soon, they came across at the corner store, as they got closer, you noticed a sign magically appeared.

'THE LEAKY CAULDRON'

Hagrid opened the door of that mysterious store. You and Harry hesitated a bit to enter the place. Hagrid looked at you two, assuring that this place is not just any place before he motions you both to enter the place.

You both obliged and looked around the slightly dark place. There you two, there are several people in this place chatting and laughing with their friends at every table there. This place is a bit crowded judging by the place has a small space. Not only that, you also noticed some workers who used magic to clear the tables that had been used. They waved their hands and all the chairs were back in order. Without a wand.

"a pub? Hagrid is this really the place?" you shifted your eyes from a group of people dressed in long robes sitting in the corner of the room.

They seemed to be chatting and laughing while drinking what you assumed was alcohol. Did Hagrid really take you two to the pub for a drink or what? Harry looked around with uncertainty on his face. He too feels what you feel.

" it's not just a pub, Y/n." Hagrid noted before he walked forward.

Some of the people who knew Hagrid greeted him. You and Harry followed him from behind. Some people looked at you both suspiciously and some of them seemed to know you both especially you because of your unmatched eyes and this lead to whispers among them.

"Ahh, Hagrid. The usual i presume" said the bartender to hagrid as he wiped the glass in his hand with a cloth.

"No thanks, Tom" Hagrid waves his hand dismissively. "I'm on official Hogwarts business today. Just helpin' young Potter twins here buy their school supplies." Hagrid replied.

Suddenly the man named Tom widened his eyes upon hearing the name. He put his glass cup and cloth on the counter and put his hands on the counter and leaning his body forward to see you both over his counter clearly.

" bless my soul. It's Harry and Y/n Potter!" he exclaimed, flabbergasted.

The pub was immediately silent. They looked to where you two were standing. You looked around awkwardly, very overwhelmed by the attention you were given. So many people stared at you making your hands sweat.

Quickly, a man came to you two and he shook Harry's hands excitedly. An old woman came up to you and shook both of your hands.

"welcome back, Miss Potter! welcome back! Doris Crockford, Miss Potter. I can't believe i'm meeting you at last" she said before let go of your hands.

You awkwardly nodded your head. Not knowing what you did to get this kind of attention among magic people.

'right, this is quite overwhelming' you thought as you shifted closer to your brother's side.

Then came a man wearing a long robe and a large turban on his head. He looked nervous as he moved closer to you both to greet.

"Harry a-and Y/n Po- Potter. C-Can't tell you how p-pleased i am to meet you."greeted the man stammering. He fidgeting his hands as that is his habit.

"Hello Professor. I didn't see you there. Harry, Y/n, this is Professor Quirrell. He'll be yer Defense Against The dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts" Hagrid introduced.

"Oh nice to meet you" Harry offered his hand for a handshake but the Professor seems to distance himself from Harry as he hesitantly refuses for a handshake

You knitted your eyebrows at this. 'odd Professor' you thought as you observed the conversation on Harry's side.

"F-fearfully, f-fascinating subject. N-not that you need it, e-eh, Potters? Heheh.." Quirrell awkwardly said.

Hagrid decided it was time, he interjected. "yes, well, must' be goin now. Lots to buy. Hehehe."

Harry nodded his head at Hagrid. He takes your hand before he looks at his soon to be Professor.

"goodbye" he said.

You nodded your head in regards before following Harry and Hagrid to the back room of the winery in front of brick walls.

"See, Harry, Y/n! You're famous!" Hagrid beamed.

"But why are we famous, Hagrid? All those people back there, how is it they know us?" Harry frowned.

"What did we do to deserve such attention? I never felt this overwhelming before" you muttered, squeezed Harry's hand.

"I'm not sure I'm exactly the right person to tell you that, dear." Hagrid huffed a breath and patted your head lightly before he turned his gaze to the brick walls and tapped the brick walls with his umbrella in a clockwise direction.

The blocks then magically shifted and opened up to reveal a hidden busy street called:

"Welcome Harry, Y/n, To Diagon Alley" Hagrid said.

You both widened your eyes in amazement. The place is so full of magic and people who wear long robes and hats. Lots of kids with their parents buying and checking lists, sellers promoting their shop, witchs and wizards talking among them. Animals such as owls and bats perched on the bar seeming not to bother the many people there.

You grinned broadly as you all stepped into the busy street and walked down on it.

"this is amazing" you exclaimed as you let go of Harry's hand and looked around the place excitedly.

"i'm glad yer like it Y/n but best to stick together so yer don' get los' " Hagrid informed as he moved to the side to avoid bumping into people.

You nodded your head and held Harry's hand again who was still amazed by his surroundings.

" Here's where yeh'll get yer quills and yer ink, and over there all yer bits and bobs fer doin yer wizardry" Hagrid noted.

You are still grinning with amazement as you see various shops that are quite unique and magical. You noticed some children who are the same age as you pressed their face to the display of a broom? Now this is quite interesting.

" It's a world class racing broom!"

"Wow! Look at it! The new Nimbus 2000!"

"It's the fastest model yet.

'racing..broom' you frowned as you walk aimlessly with the help of Harry who seems to be pulling you to walk.

Suddenly you and Harry felt nervous. All this takes money. How do you all want to pay for your school supplies? Uncle Vernon himself said he will not pay for this school so how?

"Eh, Hagrid, how are we going to pay our school supplies, Uncle Vernon himself has said that he won't pay for this." you anxiously looked at Hagrid and so was Harry.

"We haven't money" Harry added.

"Well, there's your money." Hagrid pointed his index finger at the tall white marble building. " Gringotts, the Wizard Bank. T'aint no safer place, not one. 'cept perhaps Hogwarts." Hagrid explained as he led you both into the bank.

There you see some creatures that are human like dwarfs wearing neat suits but have long nails along with their crooked noise. Their faces looked very fierce. You and Harry nervously looked at Harry.

"uh, Hagrid, what exactly are these things?" Harry asked, his eyes still on the creatures who were busy working on their desks.

"They're goblins. Clever as they come goblins but not the most friendly of beasts. Bes' stay close, you two" Hagrid muttered as the three of you were finally at the front counter.

You both stick to Hagrid. As soon as you both arrived in front of the counter where the agoblin who was wearing spectacles and a waistcoat, in it was working, Hagrdi cleared his throat.

"Mr Harry and Miss Y/n Potter wish to make a withdrawal." Hagrid said, formally.

The Goblin looked up from his work and looked at Hagrid for a moment before he shifted his gaze to you and Harry.

You gulped your saliva. Your sarcastic and self-confidence disappeared upon seeing the fierce-faced goblin. The goblin then glanced at Hagrid again.

"And do Mr. Harry and Miss Y/n Potter have their keys?" the goblin said.

"Oh, wait a minute. Got it here somewhere." he put his hand in his pocket. " Ha! There's the little devil."Hagrid showed the goblin a key. He then leaned forward a bit."Oh, there's somethin' else as well.." Hagrid take out a letter wrapped in a string. "Professor Dumbledore gave me this.. It's about You-Know-Who in vault You-Know Which" Hagrid whispered as he gave the goblin the letter.

You looked at Hagrid sceptically. Even though Hagrid was whispering, you could still hear him and you were pretty sure Harry could too.

The goblin's face suddenly changed at the mention of it. He looked at Hagrid in disbelief. He then nodded. "very well"

'Right, this is a bit suspicious but well, everything in the bank is a bit suspicious' you walked after Hagrid, silently moved closer to Harry as you found him safe.

Later, you raced down the depth caverns in a cartlike structure. The cart is so fast it makes you a little dizzy and hold Harry or Hagrid's hand tightly as you sit between them. After the last turn, the cart stopped with a jerk. A sound of screeching could be heard under the cart due to metal moved against metal

The goblin named Griphook, clambered out of the cart followed by the three of you.

"vault 678." he announced before he turned back to Hagrid. "lamp, please"

Hagrid hands him the lamp. Griphook took it and walked to the vault. Griphook turned to Hagrid again.

"key, please" he said.

Hagrid hands him the key. Griphook took it and turned towards the vault again. He opened the keyhole and inserted the key before opening the vault. A loud sound could be heard as the door of the vault opened.

You and Harry widened your eyes in disbelief as you watched the room filled with so many coins that it almost reached the ceiling of the vault.

"Didn't think yer mum and dad will leave yer with nothing now, did yeh?" Hagrid said.

"that's..what" you stamped as you entered the vault, dragging Harry behind.

"They know we're going to Hogwarts"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

" vault 713" Griphook announced.

"What's in there, Hagrid?" Harry asked out of curiosity.

"Can't tell, Harry. It's Hogwarts business. Very secret." Hagrid said as he clambered out of the cart.

"Is it a dangerous thing?" you asked

"not only dangerous but quite powerful" Hagrid said simply.

"stand back" Griphook said firmly as he slid down his index finger at the door.

The vault opened with magic only to reveal a small white stone package. Hagrid entered the vault and scooped it up. The eerie light shining on the package disappeared. You and Harry looked at Hagrid curiously. Hagrid stared at you two for a moment.

"Bes' not to mention this to anyone, you two" Hagrid said before he slipped the lethal small package into his coat pocket.

You and Harry just nodded in agreement.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Right, I think we need to get yer school books firs't" Hagrid suggested.

"You're right. I think maybe I'll browse for a while to find a book to read at home.. I think I've read the Greek Mythology book 63 times. So, I deserve a new book" You uttered.

"and you already memorize everything and annoyingly preach about it like it's scripture" Harry rolled his eyes.

"isn't it melodious, brother dear?" You teased your brother as you poked his cheek making Harry move his head away from your fingers.

Hagrid laughed at your antics. "Well, here we are, Flourish and Blotts. The place where all the knowledge is. The books list is al'eady in the letters, just show it to the owner of this bookstore and she will get it for yer" Hagrid said as he opened the bookstore door.

The bookstore is very big from what you see from the outside. The place is full of books, obviously. People buying and browsing around the bookstore. You can see a folded origami in the shape of a bird, flying in the bookstore. You grinned before dragging Harry to the counter.

A young woman who was probably in her 20s looked at you with surprise.

"Oh, my! Your eyes are very unique there, little girl" the young woman complimented.

You nodded shyly "thanks, mostly people say I'm blind on one side but I can see everything normally"

"Well, I'm not most people, no" she grinned. "So, first year, you two? Let me see the lists, please" the young woman said.

Harry hands her the letters where the book list is written. The woman took it and read it for a moment before she nodded her head with confirmation then walked away to find a book for first year.

"That must take a while..Mind, if i browse around this bookstore, Harry?" You looked at him expectantly.

"Go on, I'll wait here." Harry nodded.

You grinned and walked to the bookshelf there. So many books you don't know due to your lack of magic, having grown up with the Dursleys who despise magic. So all the book titles here are unfamiliar to you, making you more interesting. As you come across the sixth year section, you stopped upon noticing a sixth year potion book.

Advanced Potion-Making

"oh," you raised your eyebrows with interest as you reached the book from where it was. You open the book and flip through the pages one by one. Sometimes you stop to read the info in the book.

Apparently, because you can only eat a small amount of food due to your need to catch up on time, you are left with a hungry stomach so, armed with mint candy as a simple meal, you pop it into your mouth.

"interesting choice of book" said the voice behind you. You can feel their breath on the back of your neck making you shiver.

You shut the book you were reading and turned your body to see who interrupted your reading. There stood a tall and rather thin boy with curly hair who wore a black windbreaker over a white collar shirt with dark pants and strangely a blue scarf around his neck. He has pale skin, eyes that look like gray and green when exposed to the right light and slightly sharp cheekbones over his rather baby face.

'he's probably the same age as me' you thought.

"that book is for sixth year. And you first year shouldn't read that kind of complicated book for the sake of your poor brain to understand all the information in that advance potion book" The boy said, eyes focusing on you.

'did he just insulted my brain' now this triggered something in you with what he said. Anger? Fed up? All of the above.

"Don't worry, my poor brain can digest all these kinds of information well. Although I'm a first year, that doesn't mean I can't touch a books that are years above me" you you said, giving him a malicious smile. An evil smile that betrays all innocence.

Although that boy didn't seem to care about your change of emotion.

The boy narrowed his curious eyes at you. "Well then. Good luck with understanding such complicated information. No need to risk your brain with too much information." And he went to another bookshelf.

You narrowed your eyes at him. You suddenly felt challenged by what he said. How dare he insulted your intelligence freely without care and just walked away as if he didn't insult your intelligence a few seconds ago. Who does he think he is? You chased after him with heart burn with fire. He put gasoline on the raging fire, now the raging fire is ready to burn him.

"Are you always like that?" you asked him as soon as you stopped behind him who was browsing a book on the bookshelf.

"Like what?" the boy looked at you in confusion.

"insult people's intelligence like you have better intelligence than other people" you crossed your arms over your chest.

"I only said the truth" he shrugged.

"Well, let me get this straight, not everyone has high intelligence like you, some of them need time to understand the things they learn and some of them are gifted to understand certain things quickly. I'm not high or low intelligence but I can understand things quickly and well depends on the information I read. I'm not gifted to be as high intelligence as you but I never insult someone intelligence like I'm better than them except it is my cousin which he is gifted to be an idiot. But insulting someone's intelligence does not make you above them. It makes you worse.” you snapped.

The boy is silent. He probably lost his words as he just kept staring at you. You waited for his remark but it didn't come. As if he just.. shut down like a computer. His eyes unblinking and keep staring at you. That makes you anxious under his stare. His gray eyes staring into yours as if he's trying to consume all the thoughts from you. Not only he just stared at you but he froze there. He didn't move every single limbs at all. It's like he's being stunned. You gulped nervously.

"Oi.. " you snapped your fingers in front of him but he didn't show any reaction. Now it's getting creepier.

'what if I slap his cheek?' you thought

Before you do what you think, a voice of someone calling can be heard behind you.

"Sherlock?"

You turned your body to see who was behind you. There stood a slightly tall boy who was wearing a cream colored jumper and dark pants. His eyes are blue, his hair is short sandy blonde, his skins is pale but not as pale as the boy who is still frozen behind you. He looks friendly.

"Sherlock?" the blonde boy called again as soon as he found his friend.

You looked at him in confusion. "Ergh.. hi?"

The boy looked at you in confusion but then he smiled. His cheeks slightly red "hi.. I'm uh.. John Watson"

"Y/n Potter.. " you replied.

"Potter? Like the Potter Twins? The twins whom defeated the Dark Lord?" John looked at you with awe.

"uh.. you can say that" you awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck.

"I can see that you are not lying based on your unmatched eyes." John looked down, shyly.

"oh, well uh.. yeah.. people always say that my eyes are not real" you said.

"really, what did they say?" John now in front of you.

"They either say that i'm blind on one side or I wear contact lense to look cool... Uh contact lense are-"

"I know what contact lense are.. I'm a muggleborn.." John said, smiling. "My mother is a nurse while my father is a surgeon.. Surprisingly they got magical child like me..I know you because i read the book Sherlock give me about modern Wizards and Witches for my birthday" he added.

"oh, well.. I guess I need to explain what contact lenses are to witches and wizards who don't know what contact lenses are" you grinned.

John chuckled in amusement. "good one" he said.

"uh," you glanced at the boy named Sherlock who was still frozen. "you know him?" you nodded towards Sherlock.

John glanced behind you before he sighed heavily. "That's Sherlock Holmes.. My best friend.. well he's fine.. He just.. well, he always likes this when he's trying to think or when someone just knocked some sense into him. If you're not offended, what did you done to make him like this?"

You looked up at Sherlock's face which still had no reaction. "uh.. I think I've knocked some sense into his brain about not all people being gifted with high intelligence after he insulted my brain trying to digest such advanced information. He finds me reading a potion book from sixth year earlier"

"i see... Well he's always like that. I know him since we were 8 years old due to us being a neighbor he's always thought that everyone has a boring mind. Me included. I don't know what his older brother gave him impression about other people but he's trying not to be as rude as possible to other people. He's trying to understand people in.. certain ways. He may seem cold, eccentric, serious or rude but I know deep down he is a great person I have ever known. Although he never shows his emotions or feelings, he will show it in his own way. Just give him a few minutes, he'll snap out of it soon" John waving his hand.

"did he always just go to other people, insults people's intelligence?" You asked John.

"well, he's.. uh.. how do i say this.. He sometimes will choose someone he doesn't think he can read or deduce like he said. He's probably find you intriguing and trying to have a conversation with you but he just came out with the wrong impression." John reasoned.

A sound of small gasped can be heard from behind you. You both turned your gaze to Sherlock who had just come out of his frozen state. He looked at you with determination.

"you're right.. I shouldn't have insulted someone's intelligence" Sherlock said, firmly.

You raised your eyebrows while John mouth agaped at what Sherlock said. He never heard that Sherlock proved that someone was right, let alone said it with confidence.

You crossed your arms. "so, you want to apologize to me?"

Sherlock stared at you for a moment. "I apologize" he said, informally.

John was even more astonished. Sherlock apologized. Oh, what a day.

You nodded. "accepted " you paused. "Y/n Potter, though you heard that I gave my name to your friend... I don't know if you heard it or not in your frozen state"

"Sherlock Holmes" Sherlock introduced himself. "I know who you are already judging by the eye you have. It's really are... Unique"

"John said that you can read people or deduce like you said" you looked at him, interestingly.

"indeed. I can deduce people by looking at them. I can find information about them, their secret, their affair and anything." Sherlock said, determined.

"I see.. Well then if you know who I am why don't you deduce me?" you said, cocking your head slightly to the side.

"if you're not offended" Sherlock said.

"I'm not.. I'm basically offering you to deduce me because I want to hear what you know about me just by looking at me" you looked up to this tall curly boy.

"are you sure? Sometimes most people will be offended by what Sherlock said after he deduced them" John interrupted, looking at you worriedly.

"Well, I'm not most people, right?" you said, grinning. "now why don't you start?" you glanced at Sherlock.

"That jacket is not yours judging by the size of it it belongs to a boy. Your stupid cousin, perhaps. You and your twin brother are looked after by your aunt and uncle who are muggles based on your lack of magic knowledge because I noticed you seem to be puzzled by the title of the books here." Sherlock sniffed the air. "Mint candy, you just ate mint candy because I can smell the mint when you talk. And-" Sherlock takes your right hand. "bruise on the wrist. I can see a peek of it when you snap your fingers on my face. I believe your uncle is the cause of it judging by how blue the bruise is."

You are lost for words at that. He's incredible. The way he talked fast and clear made you speechless. He knows just by looking at you. And the way he takes your hand.. Damn that boy really is something. He's smart.

"actually, the bruise is not caused by my uncle.. It's my fault actually. I'm trying to hide behind the walls but my hand seemed to have a mind of its own and bumped into the walls hard." You smiled. "but overall, baggy outfit, stupid cousin and lack of magic are correct. Congrats"

Sherlock huffed disappointed before he let go of your wrist. He took a step back. "That's just what I see, but there's something I can't seem to read"

"Well, I believe I hide my information quite well.. Brilliant indeed" you smirked. "So you guys first year too?"

"indeed"

"yes"

"Well, I believe we will meet at Hogwarts again. I should leave before Hagrid and Harry find me" you said, backing away from them.

"yeah.. See you at Hogwarts" John said, smiling gently.

Sherlock nodded in regard. He squinted his eyes at you. Observing you as you leave them. Well, that's quite something. Did you just make new friends? Maybe. John seems friendly and trustworthy while Sherlock is just Sherlock. He seemed quite determined to know about you which you found him quite eccentric, like John said.

It might be too early to call them friends. You only know their names.. And the bit about John being Muggleborn? Is that what he called? You have a lot of things you need to know about the Wizardry world.

For now, let's just complete your school supplies as soon as possible. You walked back to the counter, there Harry and the young woman from before were with lots of books on the counter. Those must belong to you and Harry, seeing that Harry is like checking the list for god knows how many times. Just to make sure.

But then again, speaking about books, you forgot to grab your free time book like you said. And there goes your quick adventure. You go to the session where a storybook is. And one actually caught your attention.

The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

It's a simple light blue book that has a hard cover and is quite light to carry. It is medium sized. you eyed the book for a moment before grabbing it and reading the information on the back of the book.

As soon as you finished reading it, you raised your eyebrows.

"I guess this is it" you muttered to yourself before walking back to the counter with the book you chose in hand.

"Right, I think it's done." the woman said lightly as she put the books inside a medium-sized bag?

Does it fit to put 16 books of first year in it? You put the book you chose on the counter but your eyes are still focusing on the bag in the woman's hand.

"how did those books fit in that medium-sized bag? I mean these books are all big and heavy, how did it fit?" you asked

Harry nodded his head in agreement. He to find it quite odd and amazed by magic as he and you have just been introduced to magic not a few hours ago.

"oh, this? it's Extension Charm, dears. A very useful Charm. You will learn it at Hogwarts soon" the young woman smiled as he handed the bag to Harry.

"So it's bigger on the inside?" you muttered.

"yes, it is bigger on the inside, dear" the woman said. "now, you want to buy this book?" the woman nodded her head towards the book you chose.

You snapped your head towards the book on the counter. "Oh, yes.. Err how much is it?"

The woman only chuckled lightly as she shook her head. "nahh, it's on the house, just for you, my dear"

"what.. No, I can't accept it for free, I have to pay for it" you insisted as you took out some coins from your pocket.

Harry pursed his lips as he watched you insist on paying for the book. He knows your heart will feel guilty if you don't pay it. He understands that feeling. Feeling guilty.

"no, I insist. It's on the house, take it as a peace gift" the woman said. "Your brother can choose what book he wants. It's on the house too." the woman said lightly.

"oh, I- I'm not the type of person who likes to read books a lot. So, it's okay" Harry politely refused.

the woman nodded her head. "understandable.. Now, my dear. Just take it, the owner will surely do the same if she knows it's you"

You hesitantly took the book and put it in the medium size bag in Harry's hand.

"Thank you, Miss..."

" Phale, Eleanor Phale, just call me Elly" The woman whose name is Elly smiled genuinely at you both.

"Thank you, Elly. I really appreciate it" you nodded your head gratefully.

"your welcome, my dear. Now off you go, surely you have another school supplies to buy. I hope we meet again" Elly said.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"we still need... A wand" Harry looked up at Hagrid.

"A wand? Well, yeh'll want Ollivanders" he said, pointing his finger to the store in front of them. "There ain't no place better. Why don't you run along there and wait? I just got one more thing i got to do. Won't be long"

Hagrid walked ahead, leaving you two in front of Ollivanders shop.

"and he left." you muttered.

"Luckily he left us in front of this shop" Harry said as he pushed open the shop door.

The bell jingle as you both enter the shop. The place is slightly cluttered and there's no people inside. Empty. The owner too.

"Don't tell me we're coming at lunch time" you muttered.

"really" Harry looked at you, done with you.

You shrugged. "Did you see the owner here? No? That's what I thought"

Harry shook his head as he grinned at your antics. "Well, just let the owner know that we are here" Harry walked to the counter. "hello? hello?" Harry called softly.

You frowned at that. "Do you think he heard you call him that? Seriously?" you chuckled lightly.

Harry rolled his eyes. The suddenly, a noise came from the back, a man appeared on a ladder greeted the sight of you both making you speechless. The man is wearing a brown coat with a white collar shirt underneath along with a tie that is a little messy around his neck. His air is full with white colored hair that is messy showing how old he is.

The man, Ollivanders smiled upon seeing you both as if he recognized you both.

" I wondered when i'd be seeing you two, Mr and Miss Potter. It seems only yesterday that your mother and father were in here buying their first wand. Now, shall we start with the older one? What do you say, Mr Potter? Shall we?" Ollivanders looked at Harry.

Harry nodded his head in agreement while you huffed a breath. Older siblings come first. But then again, being the youngest twin has its advantages.

Ollivanders picked a wand from the box before handing it to Harry. "Ah, here we are"

Harry takes the wand then holds it without doing anything. You frowned.

"Nothing?" you looked at Ollivanders, confused.

"Well, give it a wave" Ollivanders said.

Harry hesitated a bit before he obliged and gave it a wave. This causes most of the boxes to come flying out and crashing down. Harry and you jumped. Harry hurriedly put the wand back on the counter.

Ollivanders shook his head in disapproval. "apparently not" he muttered. He then gets another wand from a box and inspects it for a moment before giving it to Harry "perhaps this"

Harry took the wand before he waved at a vase where the vase shattered making you and Harry startled.

"I can see it's not for you, Harry" you muttered to him.

Harry gave you side eyes. Ollivanders shook his head a few times and took the wand from Harry's hand and put it back in the box.

"No, no, definitely not! No matter" Ollivanders mumbled to himself as he walked back to retrieve another box. He then suddenly stops and becomes thoughtful "I wonder..."

Ollivanders walked bad to the counter and opened the box before giving it to Harry who took it and suddenly out of nowhere you could feel a strong wind.

Harry stared at his wand with wide eyes after a gushed of wind stopped.

Ollivanders looked at Harry with surprise. "Curious, very curious" Ollivanders exclaimed, deep in thought.

You glanced at Harry with your unmatched eyes.

Harry gulped. "Sorry, but what's curious?"

Ollivander examining Harry's wand. "I remember every wand i've ever sold, Mr. Potter. It just so happens that the phoenix, whose tail feather resides in your wand gave another feathers, just two others. Meaning,.." Ollivanders walked to the back and carry out another box. He stopped at the counter and examined the box before carefully taking out another wand.

[ Picture ]

"13½" long, crafted from Yashino Cherry, and affixed with a phoenix feather core.. A stubborn wand. Give it a try, Miss Potter" Ollivanders gave the wand to you.

You take the wand and suddenly you can feel a very strong aura and a strong wind just like before, making paperwork in the shop flying and blowing your hair up. Once it stopped, you examined your wand curiously. It is quite smooth in your hand.

"As i expect, you and your brother have the same core. It is curious that you both should be destined for this wands when its brother gave you that scar and eye." Ollivander narrowed his eyes at you and Harry. No doubt he meant Harry's lightning bolt scar and your white eye. Ollivanders then examining your wand.

You and Harry exchanged looks. Harry looked at Ollivanders nervously.

"And who owned that wand?" Harry questioned.

" We do no speak his name. The wand chooses the wizard and witch, Mr Potter. It's not always clear why . But i think it is clear that we can expect great things from you two. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes, but great." Ollivanders said, thoughtfully before he hands your wand back.

You took your wand again and examined it curiously. Harry too did the same thing. Same phoenix core like the one who gave you this eye. And people seemed afraid to utter his name. Like whoever uttered his name will be cursed. He's a dark wizard, no wonder what he did to people really did a number on them. But then again, this dark wizard must be the one who killed your parents.

A knock at the window interrupted your thoughts making you and Harry turned to the window. There stood Hagrid who was holding two cages and in them were owls. One is a Snowy Owl and the other is a Barn Owl.

"Harry! Y/N! Happy Birthday!" Hagrid beamed as he showed you two the owls. A Snowy one hoot while the other spread its wings.

"Wow" Harry uttered, looking at the owls with amazement.

"I chose that badass looking Barn owl" you exclaimed.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Later back in the Leaky Cauldron, Hagrid, you and Harry, are at a long table, eating soup. You both stared forward thinking about the conversation between you and Ollivander. Everything is too quiet, Hagrid soon notices this.

"You all right, Harry, Y/n? You two seem very quiet. " Hagrid said lowly.

"He killed our parents, didn't he? The one who gave us this." He gestured to his lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

You looked at Hagrid with your unmatched eyes solemnly. "You know, Hagrid. We're all know you do."

Hagrid sighed before he put down his bowl of soup. "First, and understand this, Harry, Y/n, 'cause it's very important. Not all wizards are good. Some of them go bad. A few years ago, there was onewizard who went as bad as you can go. And his name was V-...his name was V-." He hesitated to said the name.

"Maybe if you wrote it down?" You muttered.

Hagrid shook his head. "No, I can't spell it. All right." Hagrid sighed heavily before he leaned forward. "Voldemort" he said quietly.

"Voldemort?" Harry said a little louder.

"shhh! " Hagrid shushed.

Harry looked around the place, worried if people heard what he said.

"What kind of name is Voldemort? Is he trying to be dramatic or what?" you said lowly.

"It was dark times, yer two, dark times." Hagrid said. "Voldemort started to gather somefollowers, brought 'em over to the dark side. Anyone who stood up to him ended up dead. Yer parents fought against him, but nobody lived once he decided to kill 'em. Nobody. Not one. 'cept you two" Hagrid pointed out.

"That's why we were left with our aunt and uncle.. But why Voldemort tried to kill us. What can two babies who don't know the world do to him?" you thought out loud.

"I'm not the right person to say why he tried to kill you two. But that eye and scar is not an ordinary eye and scar, you two. A mark like that only comes from being touched by a curse, and an evil curse at that." Hagrid explained.

"What happened to V- Sorry.. To You-Know-Who?" Harry asked.

"Well, some say he died. But one thing's absolutely certain. Something about you

stumped him that night. That's why yer famous. That's why everybody knows yer name. You two are the twins who lived" Hagrid explained.

THE TWINS WHO LIVED.

Ironic isn't it? The title that you both don't know but many people already know for the things you both can't explain. Enough to get that title. What you know is that the dark wizard is the cause of the death of both your parents and he also tried to kill you and Harry. Why? You don't know. As Hagrid himself stated that he was not the right person to tell about that. He seemed hesitant.

But you get this nagging feeling that you will know the cause of it soon.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[inurnctdreams]

it’s the way you are - l.dh

masterlist

<prev next>

taglist: @ilovejungwonandhaechan @neozon3nha

viii. are you starting a freshman babysitting service? (wc 1.5k)

you bite your lip as you survey the downstairs floor of the NCT frat house. from your position on the fifth step of the staircase (you may have bypassed the crudely drawn ‘OUT OF BOUNDS - GO FUCK SOMEWHERE ELSE’ sign, but you figure you can get away with it as NCT’s favourite menace), you can see most of the lower floor. the kitchen is in the far right corner, double doors wide open to display the multitude of students hanging around the island covered in an assortment of beverages and stereotypical red solo cups. in the middle sits a huge plastic bowl full of doyoung’s infamous blackout punch. it’s an alarming orange colour and tastes dangerously like fruit juice instead of any of the numerous types of alcohol that are mixed in. jaemin drank so much one party last year he had to buy yeri coffee for two weeks to make up for the dress incident, which he still doesn’t even remember happening. he passed out in jeno’s lap five minutes later, hence the name. currently, you can see wooyoung and changbin yelling excitedly at san, before said soccer player downs an entire cup of the stuff and then goes back in for another.

your nose wrinkles, and you turn your gaze to the back doors to the left of the kitchen. a few people are sitting on the various pieces of garden furniture strewn out on the deck, but you can’t see much further and the only person you recognise out there is amy. unfortunately, she isn’t what you’re after right now. you bypass the small queue of girls waiting to get into the downstairs bathroom and look over the biggest space of the house, the living room. all of the non-seating furniture has been taken away and stored safely in the basement like usual, leaving the two huge sofas and whatever the guys could find for people to sit on. it’s mostly beanbags and a couple camping chairs, though you’re pretty sure that’s yuta’s desk chair he’s currently lounging in, chatting animatedly to sicheng and yangyang. a potential candidate. the rest of the floor space is taken up by people dancing along to the music booming throughout the house (currently wow by btob), and you see a lot of familiar faces strewn throughout the throng of students. sadly, none that jump out at you, other than maybe yeonjun, but he seems a little preoccupied with soobin, wooyoung’s unofficial fifth roommate.

and directly below you, pushed up against the staircase, is the entire reason you’re scanning the house so meticulously: the beer pong table. your master plan to get jaehyun inebriated enough to agree to playing shinee on night night wednesday all relies on your ability to secure a partner skilled enough to give the reigning NCT beer pong champion a half-decent challenge. at the moment, ryujin and yeji are wiping the floor with felix and hyunjin, who is dramatically fake crying while downing yet another cup. eyes flitting back to the corner of the room where yuta is still engaged in conversation, you’re about to descend the stairs and proposition him when something catches your attention.

perched on the arm of the sofa on the right side of the living room is a boy with chocolate brown hair looking around nervously and wringing his hands in his lap. normally, you wouldn’t think twice about a stranger presumably looking for a friend at a frat party, but something about this boy’s demeanour is screaming that he’s super uncomfortable and in need of help. you make your way down through the room, waving at yuta, sicheng and yangyang as you go, coming to a stop in front of the boy, who, upon closer inspection, is definitely younger yet almost certainly at least six inches taller than you.

“hi!” you greet him over the music, feeling the bass of b.a.p’s hurricane in your entire body. “are you okay? you look a little lost… or like you’ve lost someone.”

“hey, uh.” his voice is a lot deeper than you expected. “both, i guess?” he brings a hand up to rub at his neck nervously. “i came in with my friend, but he went to get drinks like twenty minutes ago. now i can’t see him anywhere, and there are so many people here, and i only know like maybe five of them?”

“well he can’t have gone too far, i can help you look if you want? i’m y/n.” you smile. “even if we can’t find your friend, maybe one of the other four will show up so you’re not on your own.”

“yes please.” the earnest look on his face is so endearing you have to stop yourself pinching his cheeks. “honestly, we were invited at the rush event last week, but i dunno if frat life is for me anymore.”

“it’s not all like this.” you laugh, weaving your way through the crowd. “yeah, parties are what people tend to think of when they think frats, but that’s only a small part of it and they’re not compulsory. there’s so many other fun and less choatic events that get put on, and they’re all really great guys here.”

you’ve managed to make your way to the back doors, and the tall freshman holds the door open for you as you step out into the cool night air. maybe johnny was right and your outfit was lacking a few layers for the frigid january weather, but you’d never give him the satisfaction of letting him know. it’s not as busy out here, and while there’s a buzz of conversation emitting from the backyard, it’s nowhere near as loud as inside.

“oh!” your new companion exclaims. “there’s mark.” you follow his line of sight to see said recruitment chair leaning up against the wall with a drink in his hand. he’s laughing along with something one of the people in the small group surrounding him has said, and you spot a few familiar faces among them.

“you know mark? oh, he must’ve been at the rush event.”

“yeah, it was him and the frat president who invited us, but i can’t remember his name.” the boy frowns, following as you lead the way over to them.

“taeyong.” you supply, watching as he nods in recognition. “i haven’t seen him around tonight actually, but like you said there are a lot of people here.”

“y/n!” jeno is the first to notice your presence. you easily accept the hug he offers and turn to greet the other boys.

“hey guys, so this is-“ you cut yourself off with a frown, realising you’d never actually asked the freshman what his name was. oops.

“jisung!”

“chenle!” jisung moves to stand next to who you presume is his missing friend with a huge grin.

“this is jisung.” you laugh. “i met him inside looking a little lost and offered to help him find his friend, but seems like you beat me to it.”

“hey, man!” mark grins at jisung. “we bumped into chenle in the kitchen and got to talking, sorry if we worried you.”

“hi.” a voice to your left diverts your attention from the conversation in front of you. you turn and come face to face with donghyuck and damn, the picture ten posted earlier in the evening really didn’t do him justice. up close, you can see every mole that dots his pretty face and you want to trace your fingertips between them to map them out like a constellation.

“hey.” you breathe, suddenly finding it more difficult to do so. being in this close proximity to him is not something you’ve experienced yet, and it’s seemingly bad for your health.

“are you starting a freshman babysitting service?” he teases, little smirk turning up the corner of his lips.

“yeah, of course.” you scoff, leaning back to give yourself some space to collect your thoughts. “he just looked really lost and i wanted to make sure he was okay. i was actually on my way to find a beer pong parter to hopefully dethrone jaehyun.”

“either you’re very confident in your own beer pong skills or you’re delusional.” donghyuck looks very unimpressed by your response. “he’s been undefeated for as long as we’ve been students here, probably longer.”

“since the end of year party the year before, actually.” you inform him, shrugging. “and maybe ‘dethrone’ is a little ambitious, i just need someone good enough to not get swept without making him down a few.”

“why?”

“well… i have a plan that may or may not involve getting him drunk enough to agree to something and then recording it as evidence so he can’t say no afterwards.” you watch as what can only be described as an evil, gleeful smile spreads across donghyuck’s face.

“i’m in.”

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

Ghoulette Appreciation Week 8

Week 8: Coffee Shop AU & Sickfic

I've been excited for this one! Back to the Midwest Emo Ghouls AU, because they just won't stay outta my head for long!

When Mist doesn't show up to Aurora's coffee shop, she gets worried. Or, Mist and Aurora are hopelessly crushing on each other, but neither seems to realize their feeling are mutual.

Rating: G Content: Fluff, secret crushes, Rory taking care of Mist when she has a cold. Words: 2651

It would be remiss of me to write a Midwest Emo Ghouls Coffee shop AU and not mention @midnight-moth's ficlet (which I think technically they said is only adjacent to this AU? but I wrote this before double checking, oopsie!) with coffee-shop!Aurora and record-store!Mist, the og fic that had me sold on Mistrora! (go read it!)

As with anything I've written for this AU, all credit goes to @herbal-quintessence and friends for its creation, I've picked and chosen my favorite hcs for the ghouls when there are multiple, and for any other inconsistencies with the original creators's hcs and timeline let's just say I'm operating on a different branch at an indeterminant point in time, haha..!

Read below, or on AO3!

The screech of the coffee machine snapped Aurora out of her daydream. She shook her head slightly to dislodge her leftover thoughts, still drifting around about her favourite customer. Aurora kept expecting Mist to walk in the door any second, and she didn’t dare try to meet her eyes while simultaneously imagining herself staring into them under greatly different circumstances.

The door to the shop remained closed however; no tinkling of the bell to herald Mist’s arrival to the coffee shop, and the subsequent arrival of a swarm of butterflies into Aurora’s stomach. For the umpteenth time that day, Aurora squinted out the window to the record store opposite. The lights were still off, the sign still reading closed. Where was she?

Aurora had worked in the coffee shop for several years now. She had applied when she first moved to town as a broke student struggling to pay rent, and had loved every second of it. The coffee shop, it turned out, was the beating heart of this rural town: a social hub for almost all the denizens both ghoul and human. She had taken great delight in getting to know her new community and neighbours, and beginning to recognize people outside of the coffee-scented air of the café.

From her connections at the shop, Aurora had learned about the existence of the dark church, and in particular its close community of ghouls. She had found many of her new friends here, and even her new home. Aurora had got talking with two lunchtime regulars she recognized from the church: one the owner of the hardware store down the street, the other his husband joining him in town for lunch. She had quickly learned that they farmed the fields east of town, and when Aurora had mentioned in passing that she was looking for a place to stay over the summer semester break to keep working, they had offered their spare room. They were looking for a lodger, anyway.

Another regular was Zephyr: church organist, GP surgery receptionist, and one of the first people Aurora connected with in town. They always came in during the afternoon slump, and happily tried the newest and strangest flavours of tea the shop had ordered. Aurora would scribble notes on their thorough yet honest reviews, before they left with an extra-large, extra-strong black coffee for Omega, the surgery’s GP.

It was through Zephyr that Aurora had learned of their lodger Mist, who had recently opened a record store directly opposite the coffee shop. Mist was cool. Seriously, effortlessly, cool. Throughout the weeks that she had started coming to the coffee shop at Zephyr’s suggestion, her visits had become longer more regular. At one point, after Aurora brought over her third drink of the morning, her curiosity had got the better of her, and she had asked Mist if she actually sold any records, seeing as she spent more time in the café than her own shop.

It turned out that Mist had not only been an art student at Aurora’s college several years previously, but had also taken several courses in online business and marketing. She made most of her sales from her website, explaining how her shop kept running with seemingly few customers. Aurora thought she was amazing: smart, arty, stylish, cool... She felt like a schoolgirl with a crush on the homecoming queen. Mountain and Swiss thought this was adorable and frequently teased her about it, reminiscing on their own tentative courtship many years previously.

Mist had started bringing her laptop to the café, sitting by the window to keep half an eye on her own shopfront for customers while being plied with coffees and “free” cakes. She had quickly realized that no café had that good of a loyalty scheme, and that Aurora was instead buying them with her tip money. Secretly, she had started keeping track of what Aurora was spending on her, the notes tucked into the tip jar at the end of each day always covering the pastries, and then some.

As the frequency of Mist’s visits increased, Aurora had become deeply attuned to her presence. Mist was a welcome sight in her window armchair, a source of charming smiles and words which made her heart flutter. And so, on this day in the middle of a cold February week, Aurora had felt Mist’s absence before she consciously noticed it. All day, she had been distracted; one eye on the door or the conspicuously dark record store opposite.

She was so distracted, in fact, that Zephyr had cottoned onto it immediately when they entered for their afternoon break. They caught her eyes flickering to the empty shopfront opposite three separate times while ordering.

“Missing Mist today?” Zephyr asked kindly. Aurora blushed deeply; was it that obvious? “She’s at home sick today, she’s feeling pretty under the weather.”

Aurora’s concern must have shown on her face, and she started pressing herbal teas and cake upon Zephyr to bring to her.

“You could bring them yourself, if you want?” Zephyr smiled warmly: young love was such a precious thing. “She’s not contagious, Omega took a look at her this morning. She just needs some rest and TLC.”

Aurora nodded earnestly, not trying to hide how keen she was.

“You could meet us at the surgery after you close here? I can give you a lift once the Omega sees his last patient.”

“Thank you Zeph, that would be lovey. I’ll meet you there–”

Aurora’s eyes instinctively flickered to the door again as the bell chimed the arrival of a customer. She waved Zephyr and their good-natured smile goodbye, heading back behind the counter.

Before Aurora cashed out and locked up, she also gathered a selection of coffee beans and teas to bring for Omega and Zephyr. She closed the door the minute the clock hit six pm, and resisted the urge to run down the road to the Doctor’s surgery. They were a ten minute walk away at best, and Omega’s last appointment was at quarter-to-seven.

She decided to make a quick detour past the small grocery store. Tea and pastries were fine, but nothing beats the winter lurgy like hot soup. And crackers. Oh, and maybe chocolate, Aurora thought, throwing everything she could think of into her basket. At least with Mist living with a doctor, she would be well taken care of with painkillers and cold medication.

Her bag weighing heavily on her shoulder, she greeted Zephyr as she got to the surgery, perching on a chair in the waiting room while Omega finished seeing his last patient. Her feet swing nervously beneath her.

Aurora sat in the leather backseat of the silver saloon car, as Omega drove back to their house in the suburbs. As they pulled off the road, she saw Mist’s familiar ice-blue bicycle leaned against the side wall of the garage.

“Let me know when you want to go home, I can drive you back.” Zephyr offered, before directing Aurora to Mist’s room at the top of the stairs. She knocked shyly, it was too late to be scared of overstepping now.

“C’m’ in!” a croaky voice called from inside. Aurora gently opened the door, smiling cautiously at Mist and offering a small wave.

“Rory?” Mist’s eyes were rimmed with red, matching the colour of her nose, but they seemed to light up as the smaller ghoulette hovered in the doorway. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh you poor thing!” Aurora cooed, dodging the question of why Mist’s casual workplace acquaintance was suddenly knocking on her bedroom door. Mist really did look terrible; her face was tired and haggard and her skin even paler than usual. “Can I come in?”

“’F course.” Mist sniffed, hauling herself upright in bed.

“I’ve brought you cake, and tea, and you’re not going to sneak money into my tip jar for once,” Aurora chattered nervously. “Can I run you a bath? Or fluff your pillows? Are you hungry, I brought soup?”

Mist smiled weakly at Aurora’s enthusiasm, a little overwhelmed at the small ghoulette’s whirlwind of fervent hospitality.

“A bath would be nice, this cold’s making me feel disgusting. So would some soup, I haven’t eaten since yesterday night…”

“A bath is is then!” chirped Aurora, “And I’ve got tomato, chicken noodle, or vegetable broth?”

“Tomato, please.” Mist rubbed at her red-raw nose with a tissue. “Zeph could do all this y’know? Or Meg. Did Zephy drag you here?” Conniving scoundrel, Mist thought to herself, anything to win that silly bet with Omega.

“I wanted to.” Aurora shrugged, trying to conceal just how eager she’d been to visit, “Zephyr just drove me.”

Mist struggled to pull herself more upright and swing her feet out of bed, and Aurora made a move to assist her. As she did so, she looked down at the armful of goodies she was still clutching, before whirling around to find somewhere to put them. Mist’s room wasn’t at all how Aurora had imagined: every available surface seemed to be covered in clutter and trinkets, the opposite of the cool, minimalist personality she exuded. The walls were plastered with artwork, lending everything a warm and cosy feeling. Aurora eventually made space on the desk, moving a few mugs – some with pencils in, some with leftover tea – and stacking the assortment of sketchbooks into a rough pile.

While Mist sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for the dizziness in her head to abate, Aurora headed into the en-suite and turned on the taps to warm up and begin to fill the bath. She looked around at the bottles on the windowsill, and poured in some blue bubble bath alongside the stream from the taps. Ocean Breeze, whatever that was meant to smell like.

“Thanks, ‘Ror,” rasped Mist, as she leaned against the doorframe, clean pyjamas in hand, “I can take it from here, unless you want to stay?” The exaggerated wink as she spoke told Aurora that she was only joking, and that despite Aurora secretly longing for more, this was just Mist’s normal flirtatious banter. At least she was feeling well enough for her usual wit to come through.

Aurora closed the door behind her as she left, and hovered in the bedroom until the taps turned off and the splashing sounds of Mist getting into the bathtub safely and without falling had quietened down. She grabbed some of her care package from the stash on the desk and headed back downstairs to make some tea and heat the soup.

Entering the kitchen, she found Zephyr at the table with a mug of the tea she gave them, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Omega paused where he was slicing vegetables and directed her to the kettle and microwave, grabbing a bowl and mug for her too. Aurora hovered awkwardly as she waited for the various liquids to heat, aware of Zephyr’s eyes burning a hole in her back the whole time. Out of the corner of her eye, she even thought she saw them making a gesture at Omega, like rubbing cash between their fingers and thumb. She put the bowl of soup and mug of tea onto a small tray Omega also presented, adding a few napkins and a spoon, before escaping back upstairs.

Balancing the tray in one hand, she knocked on the bedroom door again, entering when she got no response. The gentle sloshing sounds of water told her that Mist was still enjoying her soak, so she set the tray down on the desk and took a seat.

“I’m back!” she gently called at the bathroom door, “Let me know if you need anything else!” Mist hummed in acknowledgement.

Aurora took a look around the room while she waited, admiring the mishmash of colours and styles. Each item so clearly told a story, she wished she could ask about every single one. A small photo on the bookshelf made her smile: a younger Mist, probably round Aurora’s current age, was dressed in dungarees and pulling an uncharacteristically silly face at the camera from her seat atop a hay bale. A handsome dark-haired ghoul she recognised as the previous youth pastor Ifrit leaned against it, while Mountain and Swiss stood to one side, arms loosely around each other’s waists. Aurora couldn’t help the pang of jealousy she felt looking at the picture. Even though she knew they had only ever been friends, she was reminded that Mist had lived a life before she moved here, that there was no way she would ever fall for her young barista with a silly crush.

Abruptly, Aurora stood up and walked to the bed to straighten the duvet and fluff the pillows, perhaps with a little more force than was necessary. As she was tucking the foot of the blankets back in, Mist finally emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of fresh, ocean-scented steam. She looked to have more colour in her cheeks already, the worst of the pallid complexion she had worn before now gone.

“Feel better for that?” asked Aurora, smoothing the duvet with a final flourish, and moving out of Mist’s way.

“Much, thanks Rory,” Mist climbed back into bed, sighing as she sat up against Aurora’s carefully arranged stack of pillows. Once she was settled, Aurora brought over the tray, moving the mug to her bedside table so it didn’t spill. She tried not to stare too intently as Mist ate, smothering the protective fire that burned in her belly at seeing her devour the soup.

Instead, Aurora distracted herself by chattering at Mist about the daily gossip from the street. How Mrs Bloom from the flower shop had come in half an hour earlier than usual, coinciding with Mr Phipps from the jewellery boutique, and did this mean the elderly shopkeepers were finally getting together or not? And the teenager with the purple hair had been back to remove her Missing flyer from the noticeboard, as her pet cat had just been hiding in her neighbour’s garden shed the whole time, much to everyone’s relief.

As Aurora nattered away, she took Mist’s tray back to the desk once when she finished the soup and moved onto the tea, before lying back down under the covers. Aurora continued quietly recounting the day’s events until Mist’s breathing gradually slowed and evened out. Asleep. Aurora silently returned the empty mug to the tray, before grabbing a pencil and a scrap of paper to leave Mist a note in case she woke up wondering where her visitor had gone. She debated for a few seconds, before finally scribbling her mobile number on the bottom of the paper. Given how much time they spent together during the day, it was strange they hadn’t exchanged them yet, right?

She propped the note up on the bedside table and, in a moment of impulsivity, kissed two of her fingers before pressing them into the pillow, feeling Mist’s cool breath curl around them. Aurora shook her head, and grabbed the empty tray to leave before she made any more reckless confessions.

Zephyr drove her home in a comfortable, yet knowing, silence. Aurora felt slightly like she was the punchline to some joke she wasn’t aware of, but tried to think nothing of it. Surely spending your evening taking care of your favourite regular customer who might also be your friend but also might not be wasn’t that weird?

Aurora thanked Zephyr for the lift, choosing to slink off to her room as Swiss immediately invited them inside with promises of a fresh jar of honey from his bees. As she settled down for bed herself, mind still racing over the events of the day, her phone buzzed. Aurora felt her heart skip a beat as she read the message: Hi, it’s Mist. Thanks again for coming today, I’ll have to repay the favour sometime. xx

[writing-whump]

Too many bubbles

Matthew finds out bubbly drinks and milk don't mix. Warning for emeto, burps, upset stomach etc.

Matthew was ready for the day to finally end.

He had to leave early, so he didn't get to his morning run, so he also couldn't get to his shake, so he wasn't hungry in the hours he was supposed to be and it messed up his whole day.

To wake himself up for the stupid appointment with the teacher he got the first energy drink he could find in the convenice store. And when he got out he went for another one, cause he found a surprisingly good cherry flavour.

Maybe that should have been a warning enough. That he wasn't used to energy drinks and bubbly drinks. So he should have been careful. But somehow it happened that between the classes and the chaos, he didn't get to have any proper lunch, cause he was hungry at the wrong times and then he only got his cherry energy drink and he ended up drinking about five of them.

Walking home, his stomach was churning. It was upset, bloated and heavy with the bubbles. Matthew couldn't stand the looks people were giving him at the tram and opted to walk the few blocks, hoping it would also ease some of the pressure.

It didn't.

He was so looking forward to shut himself in the apartment and just have some proper alone time to be gross and deal with this. He was muffling burps the whole time as he walked. Why did there have to be so many people out at 4 p.m. anyway?

Finally unlocking the door to the shared apartment, he was welcomed by blissful silence and insistent order.

Isaiah was manic about keeping the place tidy, so this was the cleanest Matthew had lived, ever. Everything had to had its place and surfaces had to be empty, so they could be easily dusted off. Matthew would roll his eyes and complain, but it was effective.

Throwing his bag in the corner and shaking off his shoes without concern, Matthew threw himself onto the cream coloured sofa and sighed in relief. Finally.

Seline should have some work meetings with other university assistants until late today and Isaiah was hardly home preparing for his law exams.

Matthew unbuttoned his pants to as let the bloated loud organ out and massaged at the bubbles to work up some burps. The first few were so loud he self-consciously looked around. The sound carried something terrible with a two floors.

Isaiah just woke up one day and said he signed up for the law entrance exams. Just like that. He was eying a government research project for a while now - something about mental health and city planning and green spaces - and law seemed to be a plus.

So not worried he had not thought about it until now at all. He was doing the entrance and signed himself some classes for the semester, even though he wasn't planning on slowing down with his psychology master.

Apparently, Isaiah could start with the master degree outright if he did some compensation exams, since the master had an international law development focus.

Matthew didn't understand how Isaiah was going to handle so many classes. It just turned his head around.

Matthew had enough to do with his economy classes and he was doing the bare minimum to pass each year, not keeping up with the shortest study plan. He was late a semester or two, so he didn't stress if he got to all classes or not.

But he had to have the most overachieving roomates now. Isaiah with the two masters. Seline working on her PhD proposal and already with her assistant work, although the competition for prae doc scientific personal was crazy.

And here was Matthew, barely passing classes and two semsters late. Way to go.

It was easy to feel stupid between the two. Isaiah was a fussy perfectionist, but the results showed in his grades and professor preferences. He was accepted to more research projects during holidays than Matthew ever applied for.

Seline was an overthinking worryrat, but the passion and ease with which she taught students, did her presentations and wrote her seminar papers was amazing.

Matthew didn't care that much about school. He wanted to be pragmatic, get a useful degree and get out, cause it would heighten his chances. Maybe. Maybe it was just there to look good, since work had very little to do with what you studied. Economy was at least very practical.

Except that became of his temper he did lots of sports, especially running and boxing and then he also had the gym to keep in shape and them it all suddenly took a lot of time.

Maybe it was also his friend circles until now. Who needs school, the attendance was healf-hearted at best if it wasn't currently for exam season. Social sciences were considered to be the most useless anyway. Matthew thought the same thing until he met Isaiah and Seline. Both in social sciences, both wanted to stay in science, and their interest was on a completely different level.

He should really step up his game. Sooner rather than later, or they would leave him behind with their degrees, achievements and geeking.

Matthew massaged some more into his distended belly, ushering up some smaller burps, sprawling on the couch.

Yeah this was nice. He would just enjoy the free evening, get back into his schedule and start tomorrow.

"Hi, I'm home!"

Matthew fought the urge to roll his eyes.

Seline was trashing in the hall as she looked for her slippers. For a girl she was very clumsy and...ungraceful? He didn't notice until he had to live with her and her elephant heavy steps and tendency to crash into everything that stood in her way.

Matthew quickly threw the blanket next to him over his stomach and pants, hiding the annoying bloat and the opened zip. Not something for Seline's delicate eyes to see.

"They let us out early today! Can you believe that without the boss, the meeting takes only half its usual time? Seriously, I love love this job, but the team meetings are the most annoying obsolete things," she chattered as she carried shopping bags through the living room to the kitchen.

"You didn't have to buy stuff. I would have gone tomorrow," Matthew protested at the sight. He couldn't cook and hated cleaning, so shopping was the only contribution left aside the little fiddling with stuff to fix it. He was proud of that one.

"Just a small thing," she waved her hand at him to dismiss the point. "I wanted to try the new oat and nut milks. There are places in Vienna now where you won't get anything else and if I want to try your shakes, I might we well get used to the healthy milk too I'm told, since the shakes are half milk anyway and if I want to get used to a new milk, it better be a good taste. I bought like three sorts. Wanna try them all out?"

Matthew nodded, cause he was in full support of her trying out the protein shakes, getting the vitamins and trying out healthier milks. Whatever the cow milk was, it wasn't milk, but Seline loved it. This was an ongojng battle and a big step for her to initiate it herself. He didn't want to ruin it.

His stomach gurgled a bit, but he felt about ready to stop noticing it. It was fine, he probably massaged enough space into it to try a few sips of milk for sure.

That's when Seline brought six glasses and the three milk sorts, chattering about the fibres and contents.

Matthew swallowed nervously at the milks, but she was already porting it down the glasses and preparing three for him. Full to the brim.

"Don't you dare leave me alone with this! Your idea with the milk, so you better drink it too," she frowned in mocking as she lifted the first glass to him to bump it like champagne.

Matthew obediently clicked the glass to hers and put it to his mouth, smelling it suspiciously. Oat milk sure had a different smell to it. He grimaced a little but she was giving him a glare, so he gulped it down.

Maybe the quicker he got it behind him the better.

His stomach gurgled angrily at the first glass in irritated warning, but it was back to the angry burbling by the second.

Drinking the third glass of whatever weird milk sort it was had his stomach cramping properly.

Matthew scrunched his face and tried to inconspicuously get a hand under the blanket to rub at his stomach.

The last glass left a disgustingly sweet film in his throat and mouth and his stomach gurgled and whined as the milk hit the onslaught of bubbles.

Oh god.

Seline didn't seem to notice, chattering some more about stuff Matthew couldn't even pretend to follow anymore. He felt sweat forming on his face and neck as he fought the pressure down that clawed at his throat.

He turned his head to the side, a fist to his mouth, managing a soundless little burp. But it didn't help. His stomach was bubbling, he could feel the movement at the belly bottom and the tip, right under his skin.

And now the nausea joined the chorus.

The next cramp had him almost doubling over. Saliva was flooding his mouth as the bubbles fought angrily with the three sorts of heavy milk he wasn't used to. His skin was stretched to max and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he tried to breathe through the whines and the cramps. They returned with vengeance and gave him very little pauses to breath between them.

"Matt? Are you listening?" Seline asked, voice all innocent.

"YeaH-urrp-" Matthew presed his closed fist to his mouth. Talking was a bad idea, very risky. "...sure I am."

"Well, you don't look it," she said, hands on her hips from where she sat across him.

Matthew lifted his gaze to her, when a giant bubble pressed at his stomach and rushed up his throat. His cheeks puffed out, but he fought it down in panic. He couldn't, by good conscious, burp in front of Seline.

But that was the last drop. His stomach cramped and heaved and had Matthew scrambling up with urgency. The bubbles and milk wanted out, out, out.

In face of the panicked realisation he was going to throw up, Matthew headed for the kitchen, hand pressed against his mouth.

He made it to the sink at the last second as his stomach heaved and then the milk was rushing out of him with a loud splash of white watery vomit.

Before he could breathe, there was another wave, almost choking him on its way up. He coughed and splattered, the milk bubbling nastily at his mouth and dripping down his nose as he leaned against he sink with both hands.

This was terrible and it wasn't helping.

His stomach heaved and heaved, cramping hard and he wrapped an arm around it as he groaned against the flood of milk and cola and energy drinks he didn't even count or notice as he devoured them instead of lunch.

"Jesus Christ, Matthew! What the hell?" Seline was standing beside him, hand lightly on his back as she hovered, face resolutely turned away from the sink.

Matthew tried to answer only for another wave to rush out of him and his whole body heaved and shuddered as it landed in the sink. At least it was clean from any plates.

He burped another smaller and chunkier wave before a series of empty burps finally, finally eased up the pressure in his stomach. It deflated now, though it hurt from the cramps.

Matthew leaned his forehead against the sink in relief, holding onto the granite with both hands again as he rested.

"That was something. Like a real force," Seline commented, a little disgusted grin on her face as she rubbed his back. "You feeling better now?"

Matthew burped loudly, not minding anymore if she heard or not. He felt deliciously empty and free of the bubbly disaster, breathing hard through his nose and mouth. "...yeah. Sorry. Too many bubbly drinks."

"You should have said something! Bubbles and milk don't mix."

"I don't think the oat thing mixes with me either. Blah. Just the taste of it makes me nauseous."

"You just got a bad memory tied to it now," Seline smiled, tapping his back forcefully.

It ushered up another burp, from the pit of his stomach and Matthew worriedly leaned over the sink in case it brought up something.

But it was empty.

"Come on, let's sit you down." Seline was tugging at the back of his shirt. It was then that Matthew realised that in his rush, he left his pants unzipped.

The thought had his ears burning red.

Seline didn't seem to notice though, so he let the water run in the sink to wash his sickness away and let himself be dragged back to the couch.

Oh yeah, he was so ready for this day to be over already.

---

@bellysoupset

[fuctacles]

0 | - | 2 | 3 | 4

Maxine was nearing the rebellious teenage years Steve was so scared of. She was already a feisty kid when he met her all these years ago, slingshotting cans off tree branches and fighting with her brother, and she made no sign of stopping. She was a savage on a skateboard, crashed other kids in arcade games and looked up to strong female role models, like Wonder Woman. Steve was happy to call her his daughter. Even if she hated it.

She liked to spend time actively, so he wasn’t surprised when she got into sports. It was a thing they could bond over. Recently, though, all she could talk about was music. She was pestering him about getting her a guitar, and he was slowly warming up to the idea. Robin, of course, was encouraging it.

He already took her to a music store, grabbing a couple of cassettes that made him dread the worst. She picked some rock bands and while Steve didn’t want to play on these stereotypes, he wasn’t thrilled to think she may become one of these brooding alternative kids dressed in black. She was feisty, but she was a radiating sun that he would rather keep burning than get shrouded by dark clouds.

And so when he heard the door slam loudly, he sighed softly, recognising an end of an era when he heard it.

Max stomped into the kitchen, fuming.

“They are cutting down the art department funds,” she said without prompting, her bag dropped unceremoniously on the floor.

That was not what he was expecting.

“What?” he frowned, watching her open the fridge and grab a box of chocolate milk. She angrily stabbed it with the straw.

“Exactly! They are transforming the practice room into a gym, and Mr Eddie had to move all the instruments into his class and the drama club.”

And there it was. The famous Mr Eddie. He was the reason Max took a sudden interest in music, and apparently, now the reason she was so furious about school funding injustice. Steve sighed.

“Unfortunately, the school thinks liberal arts aren’t as important as sports.”

Max’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. Her gaze slid down to his ancient swimming team hoodie.

“But you don’t think so?” Right?” Her eyes narrowed threateningly. Steve scoffed.

“I might have been a jock in high school, but my best friend plays in an orchestra. I think the funds should be divided equally.”

“Good,” Max drew out like she was content for now, but he wasn’t completely off the hook yet. She sat down in front of him, sipping from the milk box and studying him. “All the after-school practice has to be done at the drama club, which makes the schedule really tight. You know Mr Eddie used to give guitar lessons there? Now he’ll have to do house calls.”

“Mhm,” Steve nodded, eyeing her wearily. He flipped the page of the magazine he wasn’t reading. 

“Mr Eddie used to practice there with his band too.”

“Mhm.”

“Now he has nowhere to do so.”

“Poor guy.”

“He said he’s looking for a place to practice. Told us to ask our parents.”

“Max…”

“We have a big garage.” 

“Max.”

“Steve.”

He sighed.

“I’ll think about it. If he doesn’t find a better place, he can give me a call.”

Max let out a victorious whoop, but he held out his hand to stop her.

“Max, I’m serious. Only as a last option.”

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes.

And so, about a week later, Steve was picking up his phone to an unfamiliar voice.

“Mr Harrington? I’m Eddie Munson, Max’s music teacher. She told me you have some garage space I could borrow?”

Steve looked at the ceiling, leaning against the wall.

“Did she say it was only a last resort thing?”

The man on the other side chuckled.

“Oh, believe me, I wouldn’t be bothering one of my student’s parents if I had other options.”

“Okay. What do you need then?”

“I’ll take whatever you can give me, honestly. I’m kind of desperate,” the man sighed, and Steve felt a bit bad. The guy just wanted someplace to practice his craft.

“Okay, okay. So… I have a two-car garage space, but it’s only my car and I can park at the curb, you could have the whole space to yourself. I’m home most afternoons, so as long as you’re not too loud and give me a heads-up, any day works.”

“Hello?” he frowned when only silence answered him, but soon the man on the other side was laughing.

“Wow, you’re just as nice as Mad Max claimed.”

“She did? I thought I was, and I quote, ‘a raisin in her cereal’.”

The other man burst out laughing and Steve smiled.

“Ah, I’m not going to reveal her soft spots any further then.”

“Maybe I should show you the place before you commit? It might not be big enough for your needs.”

The man on the other side hummed in thought.

“Yeah, good thinking. Is today fine? I’m finishing in a couple of hours.”

“Sure. Do you have something to write, I’ll give you the address.”

Three hours later, the doorbell rang and Steve wiped his hands on the towel to open the door.

Eddie Munson was nothing that he expected from a music teacher, but after a second thought was what he should have expected from a music teacher who Max said was cool.

“Eddie Munson,” the man introduced himself, extending his hand full of chunky metal rings.

“Steve Harrington,” Steve shook it, the fingers unexpectedly rough against his skin.

The guy was of a smaller build than him, on par with his profession. His long hair was tied back, revealing a row of silver earrings. He was wearing a band tee and a leather jacket. He didn’t look like a teacher at all.

Steve motioned him inside.

“Come on, I’ll show you the garage.”

“It’s not in the basement, right? Should I be worried?”

Steve gave him a puzzled look.

“You know, leading a stranger to your basement to never be heard of again?” Munson explained.

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, maybe not with the hawks I have for neighbours. Probably half the street knows I have a guest by now. So I better let you out at some point.”

“Some of these suburban moms should really get a job, huh?”

“They should, yeah.” Steve nodded, leading him through the kitchen to a plain side door. he opened it and flipped a switch. “Soo, that’s it. Would that work for you?”

The teacher stepped in, passing by Steve to look around. The garage was big, made for two cars, with only Steve’s Beamer taking up half the space. Besides some spare tires and boxes of Christmas decorations, there was nothing else inside. 

The man spread his arms, spinning around. Steve let out a surprised snort. The guy was probably his age and a teacher on top of that.

“That would be great, Mr Harrington! Are you sure about that? Like, sure-sure?” He stood in front of him, and Steve’s mind has already been set, even without the hope glistening in the man’s eyes.

“I’m a man of my word,” he nodded.

Munson swayed on his heels.

“We play metal, though? Might not be your thing.” He smiled weakly, like he was expecting a rejection. Steve frowned at him.

“If they let you do it in school, I think my garage will be fine. I have headphones, too.”

Munson beamed at him, dimples at all. And it was like a punch in the gut, a feeling he hadn’t felt since Max’s brother.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” he nodded stiffly, blinded by the soft metalhead in front of him. What did Max get him into?

Speak of the devil, there was a distant slam of the front door from the inside of the house. Steve winced.

“Want me to let you out this way,” he pointed to the garage door. “She won’t let you go that easy.”

Mr Munson only laughed. 

“It’s not a problem. Mad Max is one of my favourite students.”

“I thought teachers aren’t supposed to play favourites?”

“I’m not the teacherest out there, truth be told.”

Steve eyed his ripped jeans.

“I can see that.”

He led them back to the kitchen, where Max was hidden head-first in the fridge. She leaned back when she heard the steps, and her eyes widened at the sight of two men.

“Mr Eddie!” She slammed the fridge close, and Steve winced as he heard the bottles inside rattle against one another. “You’ll be using our garage?”

“Seems so, kiddo.”

Max made a victorious fist pump.

“Mike’s gonna be so jealous!”

Munson let out a startled laugh, while Steve scrunched his nose. 

“Don’t tell that’s all this is about. I thought we were doing something nice for Mr Munson.”

“We are, we are!” she placated him quickly, waving her hands. “Pissing off Mike is just a bonus. A very nice bonus.” She grinned sweetly.

“You’re, um…” Steve looked to the side to see the man scratching his cheek awkwardly. “The only parent who agreed. Most of them don’t trust me because I play metal.”

“Steve isn’t like that!” Max reassured quickly. “He’s not a judgmental bigot!”

Steve gawked at her choice of words while Munson laughed.

“A judgmental bigot wouldn’t raise such a great kid.”

“Duh.” Max beamed and Steve warmed all over. 

Being a single father was frowned upon even without their backstory. And Max’s attitude usually fuelled negative comments about his parenting. So it was nice to hear something good for a change. Maybe Steve could even make a new friend in this shitty town.

The teacher stayed for a coffee and insisted on being called Eddie. Steve found out he and his band had a show in a few weeks and were planning a small tour across the state over the upcoming break. But most of the visit was just him listening to Max and her teacher talking about bands he had no idea about. 

“I’ll tell the boys, and we could come over on Thursday? If that’s okay,” Eddie cocked his head as they led him to the door. 

“Sure. Works for me.”

“Sweet,” Eddie smiled, and again it did something pleasant to Steve’s heart. “See you tomorrow then, Red.” He fist-bumped the girl. “And you, Steve,” he raised his fist towards him. It took Steve a second to react and knock it with his own, but Eddie didn’t seem to mind. He waved at them, and soon Steve was watching a ratty black van speed away from his curb.

“I told you he was cool!”

“Uh-huh.” Steve closed the door. “You did.”