#they had nice dotted notebooks which would be perfect but currently all of these are lined which is ugh ugh 😩😫😩 definitely not for me

[inakanotori]

After a futile search in multiple action stores I surrendered and went to tiger to grab one of their dot notebooks since I used one in the beginning, they weren't so bad back then and currently I can't afford stupid Leuchtturm which is my to-go for planner.

I didn't predict the only colours available for small size would be pink and purple which is ugh not my thing. And there was a black one, but around A4 size.

[marshmallow-phd]

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

**

You woke up in a sweat. Little beads dotted your upper lip and temples. The source of the heat was all around you, encompassing the space you occupied. It held you so close that you wondered in your hazy awakeness if you would ever feel the cold again. Not that you wouldn’t mind. Summer was always your favorite time of year. But right now, you could use a break from the personal space heater. 

Eyes breaking open, you sucked in air at how close Minseok was. His entire outline was a blur, only his nose and mouth in sharp focus. The previous night’s events came back to you. Though still slightly hazy, you remembered falling asleep during the movie, Minseok bringing you up here, and then asking him to stay. It was quite possibly the most peaceful rest you’d had in your life. 

Minseok was still asleep. His mouth was open just a bit and the slightest bit of tension in his eyebrows. Your arms were pinned between your chest and his. If you uncurled your fingers you could touch his slack jaw. Minseok’s arm was tight around your waist. He sighed happily before snuggling in closer, moving his face so it now rested in the crook of your neck. Okay, as satisfied as he was, this was now getting a bit uncomfortable for you. 

“Minseok?” He didn’t move. “Minseok.” You kept squirming until he finally woke up. 

At first he merely blinked away the sleep. When his eyes focused on you, they grew wide in horror. He scrambled back to give you room. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. 

“It’s okay,” you said. The smile was nearly impossible to hold back. As you also sat up, your hand slipped under the pillow, hitting something hard. You frowned. It felt like a book. Did he like to read before he fell asleep? You pulled the book out. No. 

It was your notebook of ideas. 

Panic set in his eyes. “I swear I was going to give it back.” 

“Where did you find it?”

“I’m the wolf you’ve been meeting in the clearing, remember? I found it the first day. I meant to give it back to you, but it would have been hard to explain, given the circumstances.”

You took a deep breath. The notebook was a reminder of all the information that had been dumped on you in the last twenty-four hours. It had been so easy to ignore the processing time your brain needed. Being in Minseok’s presence made it easy to forget a lot of things. “I, uh, I think I should go home.”

Disappointment was an understatement for Minseok’s expression. “Yeah. Right. I’ll take you back home.”

“Actually, I just need to get to my car. I parked it on one of the back roads.”

“Okay.”

He waited patiently for you to get out of the bed and put your shoes back on. He didn’t question why you’d parked out there. Simple answer was that he had made the connection to your little hike. You excused yourself to go to a bathroom, in which he pointed you towards. You didn’t have anything to brush your teeth or hair, so you settled on a splash of water to the face. Your go-to bathroom habit at this point. When you returned to the bedroom, Minseok was in fresh clothes. Keys in hand, he stepped passed you without a word. You followed him down to the first floor. Using your notebook as a shield against your chest, you tried to be as invisible to any of the others you ran into as you exited the house. Out in the garage, you got into the car that Minseok indicated. 

The ride was quiet, save for the few times you gave Minseok directions to where you’d parked your car. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head against the glass. You were still tired and could feel a headache starting to emerge.

“Uh, (y/n)?”

“Hm? What is it?” You opened your eyes and nearly shot out of the car. 

Several police cars and at least twenty civilians were all huddled around the area where your car sat. Erik was amongst them, talking to one of the officers. As soon as Minseok’s vehicle was pulled over to the side and the engine turned off, you bolted. 

“Erik!”

He looked so relieved when he saw you. The officer looked shocked, then his face rested into a neutral expression. “You must be (y/n).”

You nodded. “Yes, I am. What’s going on?”

Minseok came up just then. Erik did a double take then frowned. His eyes drifted down to your hand. You were still holding on to the notebook that Erik would recognize in a heartbeat. He motioned to Minseok with his head as he asked you, “The guy from the pictures?” 

Minseok looked surprised at the comment. And even a little embarrassed. But he did the gentleman thing and held out his hand. “I’m Minseok.”

Erik ignored the hand, barely glancing at it. “We were all worried about you. Do you realize what we thought when your phone was off and the cops found your car out here?” 

You flinched back. “I’m sorry, I was… taking pictures. I lost track of time.” 

“You lost track of time?” Erik scoffed. “That’s all you have to say?” 

“Hey, back off,” Minseok growled, taking a step so he was now partially between you and Erik. “She’s a grown adult. She doesn’t have to check in with you every three hours. She can make her own decisions.” 

Erik looked him up and down. “That much is apparent.” 

Shaking your head, you turned to the third man in the group. “I’m sorry, officer. This was all a misunderstanding.” 

“It’s alright. Just be careful next time, okay? Maybe let someone know where you are.” He looked at Erik. “We’ll call off the search party and let everyone go home.”

“Thank you,” Erik said. His tone was low and short.  The officer left to scatter the rest of the people. Erik barely looked at you. “I’m glad you’re safe. Turn your phone back on.” With that, he stalked off towards his car.

Minseok scratched the back of his head as he shifted from foot to foot. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” 

“It’s fine. Really, it's my own fault.” You dug your keys out of your pocket. “I should get home.”

“I understand. Can we talk? Later?” He sounded so hopeful, so sure. But you still needed time to think. Your brain felt scrambled, pulled and stretched like taffy on a hook. 

“Yeah,” you finally answered. “Later.”

He must have been hoping for a more enthusiastic response. You didn’t have the energy for that right now. “Okay. Um, okay.” That was his goodbye as he turned and headed back to his car. Did he have to look so much like a wounded puppy? You watched his car disappear down the road, a cloud of tan dust following closely behind.

You waited for everyone else to clear out before getting into your own car. For a minute or two, you sat there. It seemed so bizarre, surreal, the situation you found yourself in. And it wasn’t even the pack of humans-to-wolves that had you so disoriented. It was the fact that Erik had called the police, that a search party had been formed to find you after one night away. It was obvious that he still cared, break or not. Turning on your phone, you groaned as the notifications stacked up. Missed calls, texts in all caps, other social media contacts. You tossed the device into the passenger’s seat and drove home. 

Willa was waiting for you at the dorms. As soon as you walked through the door, she pounced. 

“Oh, thank god you’re okay!” When she let you go, she punched you in the shoulder. 

“Ow!” You rubbed the sore spot. “Was that really necessary?”

Willa pouted. “You could have least told me that you were heading out. Might have saved us this fiasco.”

“You were asleep.” And you would have been punched anyway. Willa insisted that she had no control over her limbs in that groggy state, but you didn’t entirely believe that. “I’m fine. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Minseok’s right, I'm an adult. I don’t need babysitters.”

“Who’s Minseok?”

Oh… crap. “Um, he’s just a friend. A tutor, really.”

Willa took that pathetic explanation. Although, truthfully, that was how it all started. “Oh, did you finally decide to get help so you can finally pass math class?”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Jerk.” 

“What?” Willa said innocently. “I want to see you graduate. You’ve been talking about getting your masters and I want to see you do that. Kind of need to pass your classes to get there.”

Stalking past her, you fell down on your bed, face towards the ceiling. 

“Hey, you okay?” Willa asked. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied. “Just tired.”

“I bet, if you stayed out all night.” Willa sat down on her bed across from you. “Where were you, anyway?”

You shrugged. “Just… around. Clearing my head.”

“You were safe, at least?”

“Perfectly.”

“Good.”

**

Nearly a week went by. You went to class as normal. You were nearly finished with your extra credit project. Minseok had given you the perfect jumping off point and diving into the project had given you the ultimate excuse to not think about anything else. Between that and your other classes, you’d hardly had any interaction with the people close to you. Besides Willa, you’d almost completely isolated yourself. The reasoning you had given yourself was to think things through, to decide if you would turn back around and go down the other road or keep heading forward. The only problem was, you kept avoiding it. 

You didn’t think about Erik or Minseok. Or, you tried not to. If little thoughts of them started to creep up, you would find something to distract yourself with. A jog, a scary movie (avoiding anything supernatural), or homework. You would immerse yourself until the thoughts went away. Avoidance might not have been a healthy coping mechanism, but it was the one you were going with. 

You were currently participating in that mechanism as you lied on your bed, watching videos on the internet. It was simply you and your short laughs as you switched from clip to clip. The internet was a black hole. Once you got too close, you were sucked into a place where time no longer moved at a normal pace. 

Willa walked in and dropped her bag on the floor. You barely acknowledged her long, drawn out sighs that were clearly made for attention. She sighed again. Louder, this time. When that still didn’t work, she threw her pillow at you.  

You turned off the phone and finally looked at your best friend. “Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you.”

“It could have been avoided if you’d looked up from your phone the first time.”

Sitting up, you turned to her. “Okay. What can I do for you?”

She pursed her lips. “I’m hungry.” Like it had been waiting for an invitation, your own stomach growled. Willa smiled. “Sounds like you are, too!”

You laughed. “Sure, okay. Let’s go get something to eat.” 

Willa hopped off the bed and switched her things from her backpack to a purse. You pulled on a pair of shoes and shoved your feet in. As the two of you headed out and towards Willa’s car, she came up with an additional idea. 

“Why don’t you ask Erik to join us?” 

You cringed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

She sent you a look. “Why not?”

That was right. You hadn’t completely updated her on the recent events of your life. “Because… we’re on a break.” 

She unlocked her car and opened the driver’s side door, but didn’t get in. Leaning against the open space, she said, “Like… a real break or a Ross and Rachel kind of break?” 

You shrugged. “I’m not sure, to be honest.” 

Willa was quiet for a second. She was looking away from you, eyebrows scrunched in thought. “Was he the one who suggested it?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Why do you ask?” 

“I-” She clicked her tongue several times. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything because it wasn’t my place and I didn’t know what the situation was anyway. This is college, we all have to work with others and-” 

“Willa, spit it out.” Your heart was picking up speed in anticipation of what secret she was about to reveal.

“I’ve seen Erik talking to some girl in the theatre department. A lot.” She threw her hands up. “Innocently, by the way. It didn’t look suspicious at all, besides the frequency. And the fact that it was just the two of them. Did I just make things worse?” 

You found the corners of your lips turning up. “No, actually, I feel a lot better.” 

“Really?” Willa looked taken aback. “Are you saying that… you might not be in love with Erik anymore?”

“I think we’ve grown apart,” you said. 

“Maybe… because of someone else?” Willa looked at you with a cheeky smile. 

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s take this one step at a time, okay? Get in. I’m hungry.”

Willa laughed softly to herself, but got behind the wheel. The two of you had dinner at the small malt shop that had been a staple in the city for decades. You munched happily on the fries and sipped on your chocolate shake with no worries whatsoever. Willa saw your sudden change in mood, but didn’t say anything, keeping the conversation on a lighter note. 

Apparently, talking to someone about what was going on was, indeed, a good idea. It was natural for two people to grow apart. And you had been destined for someone else all along. 

The next day, you went about your routine as normal. After your last class, you headed towards the theatre. It was hell week, as the thespians say. It meant every spare moment was spent in the theatre to get ready for opening night. Erik would be there to make sure any last touches on the set were taken care of. As you neared the building, a familiar spectacled man exited the front doors with a small group of people.  

“Eric, wait.” 

He stopped and waited for you to meet him. He had a tight grip on the strap of his messenger bag. The group stopped and waited, but he shooed them on. 

“What is it, (y/n)?”

You folded your arms over your chest. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for this.” He looked down at the cement sidewalk, kicking an invisible object. “I guess the break will be permanent, then, huh?” 

You moved your own gaze off to the side. “I… um.” 

Then it hit you. Why did you have to be so scared about this? It wasn’t a permanent ending. And you were allowed to make your own choices. You shouldn’t have to beat around the bush and spare his feelings. Wouldn’t it be better just to be honest? 

“You know what? Yes, it will be,” you said assertively. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but that’s life. People change, others come along. And from what I hear, you’re moving on, too.”

Erik’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I know,” you said. “And neither have I. But feelings change. It's okay to follow them.” A mindset you were only now learning for yourself. 

Erik adjusted the bag’s strap to sit more comfortably on his shoulder. “Maybe it’s good that it ended this way. Maybe... we could still be friends?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Arm’s length friends, anyway. 

Erik looked over his shoulder at the group that was now huddled around a car. “I’ve got to go. But… thank you. For talking to me about this. I feel a lot better. I hope you do, too.”

You blinked. “Yeah, of course.”

Erik gave you one last wave before going to join the others. The sun was starting to go down, but you didn’t want to go back to the dorms just yet. You decided to head downtown, to walk around and figure out what exactly you would say to Minseok. You knew it had to be in person. Simply calling him wouldn’t be enough. You needed to see him. 

Hey, so Erik and I officially broke up. And I like you. Heck, I might even be falling in love with you. I want to be your mate. Now what?

Yeah, you could be so articulate sometimes. 

Night had fallen by now. The brightest stars in the sky were shining, breaking through the city lights that drowned out the others. A few people milled about. It was that lull time of night when the dinner rush was dying out and people were getting ready for their late night escapades. 

“(y/n)!”

You nearly laughed out loud before turning around. It was like Fate was pulling the strings, putting you on the path that would lead you right back to him. And you couldn’t say that you were upset about it. In fact, it might be the push you needed. 

“Hi, Minseok,” you said in a quiet voice as he approached. He was alone. Thank goodness. You didn’t really want to have an audience for this.

“How have you been?” He kept his hands in the pockets of his black jeans. His shoulders were tense, pushed upwards as if he were holding himself back. 

“Not… too horrible,” you replied. “You?”

“Anxious.” He was honest. Too honest. Knowing that he’d been anxiously waiting for you to do what you promised, to talk to him, made you feel horrible, selfish. Might as well stop stalling and pull the bandaid off in one go. 

“I, um, I talked to Erik.” 

His head shot up, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “You did?”

“Yeah.” You chuckled. “We… we broke up. For good. People drift apart. And, not only did I find myself drifting away from him, but I drifted towards someone else. Someone really special, made just for me.”

A smile so wide that his gums were showing spread across his face. He took a step towards you. “Really?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Really.”

Minseok didn’t hesitate. He reached forward, cupping your face with both of his hands. Then he kissed you. 

The first kiss was deep and electrifying. It was warm, soft. He took it slowly as you followed along. It was perfectly right. 

He was still smiling when he pulled away. You giggled at his happiness. He took that as an invitation to pepper your lips with more short kisses. He moved to your cheeks and your nose, making sure to capture every inch of your face. You were surprised by the shower of affection, but you certainly enjoyed it. An eruption of cheers broke the sweet moment. 

To your left, nearly the entire pack was clapping and cheering in jest. Junmyeon looked guilty and apologetic while Jongdae simply rolled his eyes. 

“And here I thought this was going to be a private moment,” you groaned through your teeth. 

“Sorry,” Minseok sighed. “Not in this family.”

You smiled at him. “I guess that’s something I’ll have to get used to.”

He leaned his forehead against your own. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

[keijikunn]

Memories ─ part i

── A @celestialarchiveshq collab “Connected by fate”

Pairing: Semi Eita x fem!reader Tags: college!au, kinda angst i guess, fluff, SLOW BURN, maybe strangers to lovers!au Summary: On the last day of the year, you dream of your soulmate’s most impactant memory that happened within the year. Each memory will be different each year. Word count: ~3.6k

Author’s note: I’m late and I’m so so sorry! I said I’d comeback by the end of January, but here we are in March lol. I can explain why I took so long in another post, if you want, but anyways. Here’s my piece from the soulmate!au collab from @celestialarchiveshq ! I decided to break it into pieces, because so far I have 9k words and you don’t deserve this. Anyways, hope you enjoy and stay tunned for the next part!

WARNINGS: insecurity, mention of injury (it’s a broken arm), self-esteem issues, let me know if I forgot anything 

MEMORIES’ MASTERLIST

You didn’t know who your soulmate was, the little information you had about them was that you only knew they were a boy and had a huge passion for volleyball and music. But one thing that you knew for sure about him was that he desperately needed a hug. Not because he’s supposedly your partner for life, your one true love, your missing piece. No. Your soulmate mark taught you things are more than that, that there’s more colours than just black and white, more than just simple and exact definitions. 

Being able to access his most important memory of the year through a dream was both a blessing and a curse. The first one is quite obvious, it meant your soulmate had overall a good year, no bad day overshadowed the good ones. However, when the second case occurred, it pained you to know that he went through a lot, and you couldn’t do anything. 

It was hard to predict how much a couple of consecutive bad memories could have changed your soulmate. Knowing only an hour or so piece of the 8760 hours of the last year, let you little to no room to guess how he coped with it. You couldn’t help but think what did he do to deserve all the insecurities and self-doubt he’s been receiving. What happened to the sweet boy that still believed hard work was worthy?

2004 (age of 10)

Your soulmate was running towards his front door, ignoring his young sister’s whines to slow down, but he didn’t pay attention. He was eager to see what was the surprise his father told him before he left for school. What could it be? Your soulmate’s voice, a pitch higher due to his age, resonated inside his head. 

“Mom, dad, I’m home!” He exclaimed, kicking out his shoes to quickly enter the living room; only to receive a stern look from his mother, pointing with her fingers his shoes, indicating he had to organize it. “Okay, I’m doing it.”

“Mom! Nii-chan didn’t wait for me when I asked!” His sister, Aime, complained, closing the door behind her. 

The older woman scolded the young boy, who scratched the back of his neck, apologizing to his sister next. The feeling of excitement filled his body once again when his father, still wearing the shirt and pants from his suit, appeared in his vision, holding a large package. 

“Welcome back, kids.” He grinned, placing the mysterious box on the floor to spread his arms so Aime could jump into his embrace. Your soulmate did not waste time to approach his father, who messed up with his hair. “Son, are you ready for your surprise?”

“It’s not fair that nii-chan’s getting a present! It’s not even his birthday.” Aime whined, both parents exchanged a brief smile, before the mother held onto her shoulders, guiding her to sit on the sofa next to her brother. He was almost jumping on his seat, bouncing his legs as if that motion would stop him from throwing himself at the box to open it. 

“The reason why me and mama decided to gift nii-chan is because he listened very well to us,” the older man started to explain. “Do you remember what he asked us a few months ago, Aime?”

“I asked if I could get my own guitar!” Your soulmate piped in, almost bursting into happiness as he connected the dots. 

“And we talked to you two about it, right?” Their mother continued, instigating her children to remember the topic of that conversation. 

“Mama and papa said that if we dedicate ourselves to something we really want, they could get us what we asked.” The young girl replied obediently. 

“Nii-chan has been dedicating himself to his guitar lessons, so we thought about rewarding his hard work.” Their dad finally announced what your soulmate had guessed all along, a smile spreading on his face. After receiving a light nod from them, the boy immediately put his hands on the wrap, tearing it apart to reveal a beautiful guitar. “We’re expecting extra hard work from now on, buddy.”

“I will!” He exclaimed, hugging both parents tightly, cheeks hurting from his large grin. “Thank you so much!!”

September, 2017 (current time, age of 23)

The memories were blurred in your mind, though all feelings and sensations burned in your heart whenever you remembered it. You always saw them in your soulmate’s perspective, being privileged enough to have a piece of his happiness - or cursed to feel the sadness that washed over in other years. 

It was perhaps his fault that you got so hooked on music and learned how to truly appreciate it, you somehow felt connected with him, as if it was a language only you two knew. It didn’t really matter the genre of the music, you could listen to an indie band from your college or a worldwide superstar; your heart knew how to stay tuned to different frequencies, absorbing the perfect high notes to the bass riff that made your bones shake.

That was how you met this eccentric lead vocal and guitarist from a rock-ish band in your college department, a guy with ash blonde hair, narrowed eyes and a voice filled with unsaid emotions. Semi Eita appeared to be angry at anyone at any time of the day, quick to offer snarky replies with his sharp tongue. It could be just a persona he created as his band progressively became well-known around college, or could be just himself and his lack of interest in people in general. 

You got to know him through your friend - and the band’s drummer - Akihiko, after one of their performances on a local live-house most college students go on a Friday night. Semi sat far from his bandmates, who were talking excitedly with each other and a couple of friends, with the same scowl you’ve seen in a picture Akihiko once showed you. 

“Guys, this is my friend Y/n,” he introduced you as soon as you two entered the small backstage room reserved for the performers. “She’s really into music, so I decided to invite her to one of our presentations.”

“It’s nice to meet you all!” You exchanged greetings, while you noticed the lead vocal just rolled his eyes and busied himself with his phone. “I enjoyed it a lot today! I could feel every instrument resonating through my body. Please invite me for your next performance!”

Throughout the whole night you hang out with the band, Semi stayed quiet on his own, enjoying a bottle of beer too lost inside his head. His bandmates reassured you he was fine, the guy wasn’t a fan of gathering with friends or any sort of social contact - which was ironic to say the least, after all, he spends his free time entertaining people. 

Despite the singer’s wish to avoid contact, many girls - and guys - approached him perhaps to initiate a small talk, or maybe to end up on a secluded corner of the live-house with their mouths on his. His quite mysterious façade was intriguing, you even admitted it to yourself, as a possible explanation to his “fame” around people, and maybe that was the reason he attracted many people. 

You only got the chance to have a proper conversation with him on the next band rehearsal, which Aikihiko invited you per the other’s request. Inside the soundproof studio, you sat on a chair across Semi, who was too busy tuning his guitar to care about your gaze on him. He still sported the same scowl in his face, however, this time you could notice a hint of excitement - maybe even a silent love towards his instrument and what he was able to do with it. 

“Are you done staring at me?” Semi asked angrily, lifting his head from the tuning keys he had just finished adjusting. “Why are you here? Aren’t you Akihiko’s hookup or something?”

“First of all, ew!” You exclaimed, face contorting in a grimace at the thought. “I know him too well to feel attracted! Besides, he permanently smells like cigarettes, it’s awful.”

“Just wait until he arrives, the studio will be infested by this shit.” He replied with a huff, rubbing his hand against his face. “For real, though, why are you here?”

“The other guys invited me to watch you practice,” you said, then leaning down to grab a notebook from your bag by your foot on the floor. “They think watching you play will help me with an activity I have to turn in before the winter break.”

“What is it?” Semi seemed interested, you noticed, putting his guitar on its support, crossing his left leg. Although you two were talking for a couple of minutes, you still felt a cold barrier between you two. It was quite noticeable as how the lead singer guided the conversation, questioning you and your reasons to be there.

“I attend the music course as an extracurricular activity, and I have to produce a song by the end of the semester.” The room fell in silence, but you could almost hear the gears in Semi’s head turning. “And I’m also here to convince you to sing for my project.”

“No.”

“Expected.” You laughed amused as Semi’s eyebrow twitched at your response. “Do you like barbecue? I can take you to an expensive restaurant as a payment.”

“You’re not gonna bribe me.” He stated, narrowing his eyes to send you sharp looks. In response, you smirked at his reaction. Just like Akihiko told me he would react.

“You’re right, I’m not gonna bribe you,” you mirrored his posture: left leg over the right one, arms crossed on the chest. But, contrary to him, you opened a smile, though your eyes screamed at the challenge in front of you. “I’m going to make you agree with me.” 

October, 2017 (current time, age of 23)

A month has passed since your very first talk with Semi Eita, and although you didn’t make any progress regarding your project, you’re getting to know a bit more about the real Semi - not just the cold façace he shows. He is indeed quick with comebacks, hot tempered - especially when he’s talking about music, the boy stands still for his beliefs in what would be better for the band - but, Semi seems to have a huge wall separating his deepest sides from his friends. As if something holds him back from being true to his feelings. 

“C’mon, Semi, we’re having a movie night,” Akihiko whined once again. “Stop watching this volleyball game and let me start choosing the movie!”

“He won’t budge Akihiko, it’s his friends playing.” The bassist, Takeshi, laughed at the rather unilateral discussion: the lead singer’s eyes were still trained on the screen, watching carefully every movement; while the drummer tried to snatch the remote control from the other’s grip. “You should know by now that he analyses carefully every Ushiwaka’s movements to scold him later.”

“I don’t do that!” Semi spoke up, diverting his gaze from the TV, proceeding to push Akihiko away from him. “Ushijima doesn’t need my comments. He never did, anyways.”

“So, the famous Semi Eita is also a sportist?” You teased him, nudging his left left leg with your foot, since you were half laying on the couch. “And has his phone number? Impressive.”

“Our lead singer had the honour to play on the same team as Ushijima Wakatoshi.” Akihiko threw his arm forcefully around the ash blond haired boy, earning a groan in protest. “And played against the Adlers’ setter, right? And you lost, right?”

“You don’t have to remember me, Akihiko-san, thank you very much.” He removed his bandmate over himself to look at you. “And I’m not a sportist.”

“How come not, Semi?” Takeshi retorted rhetorically, the smile on his face gave away his enjoyment in teasing him. “You had a sport scholarship in Shiratorizawa, you have to be at least great in volleyball!”

“Yeah…” Semi muttered lowly, lowering his gaze to the wooden floor of Akihiko’s apartment, clearly bothered by the turn the conversation took. “Choose the movie, I’ll make the popcorn.”

As he left the room, the other two guys exchanged looks, and you kind of deduced they went too far in this topic. To say you were curious about why him attending such a powerhouse school was delicate was an understatement, the urge to get up and follow him to the kitchen and shoot him questions was undeniable high - but you weren’t a senseless person.

Another part of Semi Eita’s personality presented itself to you, holding as many secrets as the façade he shows to everyone else does. You couldn’t help but think about how many experiences he went through to close himself like that, but more than that, you tried to imagine what kind of story Semi could tell through a song. That was the reason why you wanted so bad his participation in your project. 

Semi Eita could tell a great story if he wanted to. And you would try your best to make it happen. 

2008 (age of 14)

Your soulmate slowly dragged himself back home from school, body sore and longing for a long hot shower to relieve the stress of his muscles. Finals were taking a toll on him, especially when he was about to graduate middle school and needed to pave his way to good high schools. The sidewalk was slightly slippery due to the recent melted snow, droplets of water occasionally hitting his uniform’s pants near his ankles. 

Soon enough, he found himself opening the front door, being welcomed by a warmer environment. The young boy removed his shoes and heavy coat, greeting tiredly his mother and sister, who were both in the kitchen making dinner. Your soulmate headed to his bedroom ready to throw himself on his bed, wishing the mattress could swallow him. However, as soon as he turned the lights on, a white envelope with a familiar purple logo on the table caught his attention.

His hands worked quickly in tearing the material apart, removing a single sheet from the inside. The euphoria already dominated his senses, eyes barely proceeding to read the name of the institution at the top of the paper - but he knew which one was. His eyes scanned the words, eagerly searching for what he was wishing to himself for the past few weeks. 

“Mom!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, running out of his room to find her. “I made it! With a sports scholarship!”

“Oh my gosh, congratulations!” The woman cheered, drying her hands on her apron to involve her son in a tight embrace. His cheeks hurt from how wide he was smiling, but the bursting sensation of pride in his chest made up for that.

I am good at something, after all. I made it to a huge school through my volleyball abilities. 

I’m not replaceable. 

Mid October, 2017 (current time, age of 23)

“What the heck happened to you?” The words left your mouth before you could even think after you entered the usual studio the band usually rehearses. Akihiko was seated behind his set of drums, scrolling aimlessly through his phone; and Takeshi finished setting up his bass on the amplifiers. But what surprised you the most was the cast on Semi’s left arm, holding it in a position he couldn’t stretch it. 

“Hi, Y/n,” Semi waved cynically with his right hand, “I am fine, thank you for worrying about my well being.”

“We need your help.” Both Akihiko and Takeshi said. 

“Why do I feel it’s related to the fact Semi broke his arm?” You questioned, glaring at the lead vocal suspiciously. 

“The band has a presentation in a week and Semi can’t play the guitar for obvious reasons,” the bassist started approaching you, offering you a bright yellow pick - which you accepted, still not sure about the end of the conversation. “We’re lacking a guitarist, but Akihiko said you’re pretty good, right?”

“Uh… maybe?” 

“What Takeshi is trying to say is,” Semi cut his bandmate, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “We need you to play the guitar as support for our next concert.”

It was unexpected, you thought with yourself, by the little you knew about Semi and his relation to music, you imagined he would ask any close friend of his that he trusted. Perhaps Akihiko mentioned you know how to play, he could have even shown him a few recordings you did in the college studio. Either way, hearing Semi inviting you was a surprise. 

“Sure, I guess?” Your answer sounded more like a question, evidencing your state of confusion and unsureness. “Wouldn’t you guys want someone else, though?”

“No.” The ash blonde hair boy answered without hesitation, once again surprising you. “You’ll do it just fine.”

You quickly exchanged looks with Akihiko, in hopes to discover that it was a huge prank or even a childish comeback from Semi regarding your stubbornness of having his vocals on your project. However, the drummer nodded his head; his facial expression didn’t give any sign of mischievousness like it usually does.

Semi stopped in front of you, handing you his own guitar. The instrument felt foreigner in your grasp, as if a simple guitar held secrets and hidden feelings of its owner - and it might do. You felt oddly connected to the guy in front of you, the same one who denied every invite of yours to sing for a couple of minutes for an extracurricular project. 

As your fingers strummed the strings, you noticed how perfectly tuned the guitar was and you were quickly to mentally facepalm yourself. It’s obvious Semi Eita would take such a good care of his guitar, the boy loved music after all. After adjusting the strap over your shoulder to fit your much smaller stature than the owner’s, you played a couple of chords to make the final adjustments on the amplifiers. 

“So, tell me the setlist I need to work on.” The three men smiled gratefully at you - though Semi’s looked more like a grimace, but you understood. They proceeded to fill you up with plenty of songs and minor details you should be aware of about their style, rearragended chords.

The hours flew by while you were in the studio with the band, the four of you fell in a good synchronization - if an outsider saw the rehearsal, they would never guess you weren’t the main guitarist. Playing with them felt familiar, all your frequencies merged into one smoothly, even easily. You adapted yourself to Akihiko’s excitement and Takeshi’s quirks during his solos, but the easiest one to work with was Semi. 

His style of singing fitted perfectly with your own strumming habits, even the occasional exchange of looks was easily understood between you two. He seems to be too arrogant on stage, pretending as if he was the best amaetur performer in college - but in a sense, Semi could think like this. The way he easily went with the flow with a new element in the studio, someone he has never seen playing before. 

“Great job, guys!” Akihiko exclaimed, clapping his hands a couple of times. You put the yellow pick on the top of the amplifier and cracked your knuckles, feeling your fingers a little stiff from the almost two hours rehearsal. And you did well, Y/n, you even remembered all the chords!”

“Akihiko!” Your whine made both the drummer and the bassist laugh. “I can remember things, okay?”

“Then tell me why can’t you remember your soulmate’s memories?” He wiggled his eyebrows, daring you to answer him. When you didn’t reply, he snorted. “You can’t even defend yourself on that! Anyway, we rented the studio for another hour, but I have some business to solve at home. Feel free to stay until the end, okay? Thank you for the practice!”

“Thank you.” You smiled, sending off the drummer. While you quietly went through the songs you weren’t familiar in the setlist, Takeshi bid farewell to you and Semi - leaving you two alone. “If you wanna leave, just let me know and I’ll stop, okay?”

“You are good,” Semi complimented you, not answering your statement. “Akihiko-san wasn’t lying after all, you are indeed good.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” The studio was filled with rhythmical strums, following your favourite song of the list while you quietly hummed the lyrics. “I suppose Akihiko showed you a few things I did for the course.”

“Actually, he didn’t,” His response caught you off guard, your right hand stopping its motion in the middle of the song’s bridge. “And I suggested your name as support. I kind of wanted to see what’s up with you and music.”

“And what do you think, Semi?”

“Why do you want me to sing your song for the project?” He asked, ignoring your question completely. You arch your eyebrows in surprise, earning the same gesture - as if he was inciting you to answer him. 

“I strongly believe that music has an unique power to deliver messages. It could be the lyrics, the instrumental or just the performance… everything has a meaning.” You stated, adjusting the guitar in your lap properly; eyes fixed on the man in front of you. “From my point of view, after watching you perform and how you interact with music, I imagined you have some deep feelings buried inside of you that could be delivered through a song. Somebody could relate to you and feel grateful for you expressing something they might couldn’t.”

“I’ll do it.” Semi said after a few seconds in silence, surprising you. When you looked at his face, a small smile adorned his features. You mirrored his expression, though yours were much larger in order to convey your happiness. 

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[moccahobi]

Dear Diary [Jimin x Reader]

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff

Rating: E for everyone

Summery: You’re moving! Finally. Getting into a masters program in South Korea meant soooo much to you and it also offered the perfect opportunity to move in with your favorite pen pal and high school friend from an exchange: Park Jimin. A sweet and caring squirrel hybrid.

Word Count: 6.3k words

Genre: Fluff, Hybrid AU, Roommates AU, Friends to Lovers

A/N: OMGGGG. Formatting this was soooo annoying. Never again am I going to do so many dividers. It was not it chief. Lolol. I love this fic though! It is part of a collab for hybrids (check out the masterlist here) you should totally check them out! All the authors here are soooo amazing and their works are amazing in this too! Also! Thank you to @jung-hoseok-s-airplane​ and @spicykoreantatertots​ the two amazing people who betaed this fic for me! They helped soooo much!

Unlocking the door to your shabby apartment, you were struck by how empty it looked. It was really more of a ghost of your apartment at this point. You’d been slowly shipping your stuff over to South Korea for almost a month (really, as soon as you were accepted to Seoul University’s master program and Jimin agreed to be your roommate) and by now, all you had to take with you on your flight tomorrow was a small day bag with your necessities and a suitcase full of the clothes you’d worn this week. Your empty apartment really made the move feel real (something your job’s kind send off party hadn’t done). This move was real.

You had gotten accepted into your dream program across the world.

Tomorrow afternoon you’ll be leaving this area and moving in with Jimin.

You giggled and sat on your couch with a dazed smile stuck on your face. It wasn’t really your couch anymore was it? Your landlord was keeping all the furniture. Not that you really cared. How would you have possibly carted your large furniture across the world anyways? 

After almost four years of living here though… you’d be leaving behind many memories stored in this apartment. Like when one of your friends spent the night here after an evening of clubbing and ended up vomiting all over the rug you’d placed in the living space. He promised to pay for a deep cleaning the next day, which you took him up on… but then he just rented a steam cleaner. He was a funny person like that. Although… it was much less expensive than a cleaning service probably was. Looking back, you laughed at how worried you were of him finding one of your many journals stored on your bookshelf, so worried that you hid them under your bed. Not that it really mattered. He was a sweet friend and your journals just looked like notebooks.

Had you packed them? After shoving them under your bed all that time ago, you didn’t even think about looking back on them. Maybe if you hadn’t been reminiscing, you would’ve forgotten them here and lost them forever. Surely your landlord would just throw them away without a second thought. 

You’d been sleeping on an empty mattress and a small pillow for three days now, your comforter and sheets already in Korea with Jimin. You shuddered against your cold floor as you knelt down on the cold hard floor to grab your almost forgotten journals. With them in hand, you settled onto your pillow-less couch and carefully opened up the last journal you’d written. It was from the study abroad you did in South Korea in your last year of high school. Without that study abroad, you’d never have met Jimin and you most definitely wouldn’t be moving across the world for your masters program.

You wouldn’t want to do anything else though. Jimin was probably your best friend and this program was the opportunity of a lifetime. With a nostalgic smile on your face, you started to read.

Dear diary, 

Something crazy happened today! Ahhh! I was so shocked when Jimin, THE social butterfly of my school, came up and started talking to me. He’s a hybrid of some sort, not that it matters to me. He’s got a black bowl cut too… it looks funny with his furry pointed ears sticking out of it. Anyways, the conversation was a little stunted at first… I barely knew Korean and Jimin barely knew English but somehow we had a really good conversation. I am honestly so shocked. Here I thought that as an exchange student in South Korea, I’d just talk to other exchange students and mumble a few words to other students. I mean… I know Korean some but not much. It was… AHHH! I had so fun talking to Jimin. He’s so sweet and kind. I even added him on Kakao. He’s my first non-exchange family member on my Kakao. I can’t wait to get to know him more.

Dear diary, 

Jimin and I talk almost daily! Mostly through text because we don’t see each other much during school but that’s ok! He is in a lot more advanced classes than I but I think we are planning on meeting up for lunch this Wednesday. He even asked if I wanted to join him at the dance club but I said no… I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of my only friend. Given, Jimin is so friendly and sweet that I bet he’d just laugh and try to teach me but still. Besides, he apparently competes. That’s what I’d heard from others at school at least. I don’t want to distract him from preparing for competitions. 

Dear diary,

I went to a karaoke booth with Jimin and some of his friends. It was so fun! Jimin’s friends were a little shy to talk to me but they opened up as we started to sing more. I didn’t expect them to be such weebs like me! Lol. They all joined in to sing the current theme song of One Piece. It was soo funny. The mic didn’t know who to focus on and we got such a baddddd score. Jisoo was sooo funny while singing (Jisoo is a sweet cat hybrid). Jimin is surprisingly a great singer though! I was surprised. Is there anything he is possibly bad at? I don’t know. 

After karaoke, he and I went to a park and just chilled. Instead of sitting at a bench, Jimin dragged me off to a small clearing and sat on a low tree branch. It was the first time I really thought of him as a hybrid because… like… sitting on that tree with his tail swaying slowly as he ate ice cream… I don’t know. It was nice to just be with him there but still. It didn’t help that he kept batting at me with his tail until I joined him on the branch. I could have sworn the branch shook as I joined! We probably both almost died because of that branch broke, we would have fallen! I am exaggerating… but still. 

You were such an extra kid at times. A laugh left you as you thought back on that afternoon spent talking while chilling on the tree branch. Now you knew there was no way you would have died even if the branch fell. The worst thing that would have happened would have been a broken bone (although with Jimin’s quick reflexes and hearing, he might have noticed the branch start to splinter before it even became an emergency for both of you). 

Looking over at the clock, you noted that it was almost nine at night. Jimin would wake up soon and start his last day roommate-less. You chuckled thinking about what he might be doing right now. Maybe he’d be meticulously rolling over his couch so that his hair wasn’t all over it when you first sat down, or he was washing all the blankets to make sure they were extra soft (in reality, he was probably hitting snooze for the 100th time that morning).  Either way, he was probably just as excited to see you again as you were. Sure you’d texted each other almost daily but it wasn’t the same. You both became super busy and the time zone difference made it hard to video chat often. 

Life happened and no amount of texting or video chatting seemed to make up for that.

For all you knew, Jimin looked so different from what you remember that when you arrive at the airport and look for him holding the “Welcome Y/n” sign he made, you will only be able to recognize him by the sign (and his tail… unless he dyed the dark brown tail to be some other color). 

Maybe you’d changed too. Your hair and style have undoubtedly changed… but would Jimin notice changes other than that? Maybe your scent had changed. You knew that hybrids had more sensitive noses and often identified people by scent (you learned that the hard way by trying to play hide and seek in the dark with Jimin and some of his friends at a party… never again). During your exchange, Jimin claimed you smelled like blossoms (from how you’d read about smells in the past, you knew there was more to one’s smell than just one thing but you didn’t push Jimin for more). Maybe you’d ask Jimin again sometime.

A vibration from your phone took you out of your thoughts and when you checked the notification, you chuckled. It was as if Jimin knew that you were thinking about him. 

Jimi: I built your bedframe~

Jimi: When your sheets arrive today I will make your bed. That way you don’t have to worry about all that after such a long flight. 

Jimi: Can’t wait to see u again!

You: Thank you

You: I am excited to see you soon too!

Looking down at your worn journals and gently rubbing their spines, you decided you wanted to have a journal for this journey too. Given your track record of starting and dropping journals, you’d probably only keep at it for a month or so but could still be very nice. There was one simple issue with your plan though, you didn’t have a notebook to write in… or a pen. Those things were in Korea by now. 

You’d have to leave the house to get that stuff… or you could just buy it at the airport tomorrow. The airport only sold overpriced stuff though… plus it would be cool to start writing now.

With that thought, you got up, put your shoes on, grabbed your wallet and keys, and walked to the closest general store. After little deliberation, you bought a slender black dotted notebook and gel pens. Excitement bubbled up inside you as you sat on your couch again, pen poised to write. This would be fun. 

Dear diary,

I am moving tomorrow. 

I am moving halfway across the world to live with Jimin, a squirrel hybrid and my best friend. I was accepted into my dream masters program and will be living in South Korea on a student visa. I am so excited to see Jimin again. Has he changed much or is he still the same old sweet guy who hid in trees to think and talks to strangers? I’ll know soon. 

Well… it won’t be that soon. I have to fly to South Korea first. 

It’ll be a long flight. I’ll arrive in Seoul tomorrow at 5pm and Jimin will take me out to dinner with some of his friends before we just relax at our shared apartment. Almost all of my stuff is already in the apartment. I’ve been shipping them across for a little over a month or so now. 

I am so excited. 

I should probably eat something and go to bed though. Tomorrow will be long and full of tedious airport procedures… yay! Note the sarcasm. 

Good night. 

Let’s see if I use you.

Dear diary,

It is almost time to board. I am so excited. When I was packing, I thought that I would be more anxious about the move and make a little sad about leaving my friends and family behind, but I don’t feel anxious or sad. Ok… I am a little sad. But my excitement outweighs my sadness. I’ll be leaving some friends behind but I will be making so many more! And I’ll finally get to see Jimin again as well. 

Oh.

My flight is about to board. I guess I will talk to you later then!

You were exhausted by the time you finally sat down in your seat, ready to see Jimin again and sleep in a made bed. The flight would be a long slog full of you getting up to use the bathroom, walking down the isles just to move, reading a book because it was one of the few forms of entertainment you had, and drinking lots of water. It was exhausting (somehow), yet time moved and eventually you found yourself staring out at Korea’s landscape. 

The city was alive and so pretty. For a moment you forgot that you were tired. Given the second you got up, you remembered it all again. Your legs felt sore and tired from sitting in one spot for so long and your eyelids were almost sheets of lead by now. As you waited for the people in front of you to leave the plane, you turned your phone back on (you’d bought a cellular plan last week for when you would be in Korea). As soon as it connected to your new plan, you were bombarded with excited messages from Jimin that he’d sent all through his day. From photos of food he’d cooked for your first dinner together to the ‘Welcome to Korea Y/n’ poster he made for you. It made you smile and  as you neared where he said he would be waiting for you, you grew even more excited once again. 

Would you get along with his friends?

Would your schedules match? 

Jimin came into view before you could keep thinking, his “Welcome to Korea Y/n” sign much bigger and grander than you imagined. There were two hybrids flanking either side of him, one you recognized as Jisoo from high school and the other you’d never met before. Even from the six or so meter distance you were at right now, you could see Jimin’s tail quiver excitedly. You sped up. Six meters couldn’t end soon enough. Jimin handed the poster to one of his friends and engulfed you in a suffocating hug, his warmth flooding you. Almost immediately, you felt a sense of home in Jimin’s arms, your bodies melding together nicely and a sense of calm settling over you. You didn’t want to let go. It wasn’t until one of his friends coughed awkwardly that Jimin released you and held you at arms length while giving you a once over. 

He looked good. 

Not that you expected much else from the dancer. Numberless days spent in the studio sculpted his body better than any artist you knew or studied could have done. Miraculously enough he’d somehow developed a sense of style. You especially loved his colorblocked button up shirt that seemed to shine in the dingy airport. 

“Nice to smell you again, Y/n-ah.” Jimin said, a shit-eating grin splitting his sweet smile as he winked at you.

A loud snort left one of Jimin’s friends, who appeared to be a pig hybrid. A cute pig hybrid at that. A shy blush bloomed across his handsome and plump face before he asked to take your suitcase (something you happily let him take). Jimin chittered quietly next to you as you quickly introduced yourself to his friends (the pig hybrid’s name Minju and the other, a mutual high school friend, Jisoo). The four of you started to leave the airport. 

“I wouldn’t have invited Jisoo and Minju to come and pick you up but I don’t have a car… I figured that you’d rather not lug all your stuff around the subway.”

“Out of all three of us – four of us I guess– I am the only one with a car.” Jisoo injected happily, twirling his keys around one of his slender fingers.

You laughed and nodded. Content to just listen to the three of them banter and talk as you were led to Jisoo’s car. They seemed content to embarrass each other by telling you about things they’ve done in the past that varied in severity from mistakes while dancing to drunken nights spent together. At one point, you even added in a story of Jimin and Jisoo fighting with sparklers, getting burned, and then burning all the sparklers as “revenge”. The banter didn’t stop until the car stopped and by then you’d felt as if you had spent more than just one year and a car ride with them.

“Now, Y/n-ssi, I know that you and Jimin talked about going back to his place and having a relaxing night–”

“We did and I’m excited to eat the food Jimin made. If it’s edible.” You added, smiling as Jisoo laughed and Jimin shouted.

“Yes. Well, Jimin had to make a deal with me to get me as a chauffeur.”

“It was a damn rotten deal.”

Minju laughed, “Whatever you say Chim. He’s still gotta honor it. So we are getting some food.”

A large and towering building faced you from outside the car and if the sign was anything to go by, it was more than just a restaurant. It was a karaoke place. A smile grew on your face as you looked up at it. Tonight would be fun… even if you were tired.

Dear diary,

Tonight was amazing. Sure I’d hoped to just settle into Jimin’s and my apartment and go to bed early after eating… but instead Jimin treated Minju, Jisoo, and I to dinner at a karaoke place. I’d have to look but it might have been the same place Jimin, Jisoo, some of Jimin’s friends, and I went to in high school. Not that it matters too much. We had so much fun! By the end of the night I even had Jisoo’s and Minju’s phone number too. Hopefully we can all be friends. 

Jimin has changed in ways I hadn’t noticed when we talked online. He seems to have picked up this habit of chittering. I want to try to figure out if there is something that causes him to chitter or if it just happens. Near the end of the night I tried paying attention to that but it was hard. Almost always when he started chittering, I was doing something. It’s good to be around him again. I missed him more than I realized.

Dear Diary, 

I start classes tomorrow! Yay!!! I also have a job interview tomorrow… which is less exciting. I knew that I would need a job and that I would have to wait until I had officially signed the lease (which happened literally the day after I moved in), but it was still so much work! Jimin has been helping me through which has been suuuuper helpful. After he comes home from the studio and eats– I have been cooking for him since he’s been busier than me– he’s been helping me modify and send in my resumes to places. It’s nice. We sit next to each other on the couch and just… put our heads together to get it done. 

After finishing that, he and I watched a movie after (this has happened two times!). We’ll cuddle together and watch some movie Jimin’s decided I need to watch. He’s a good cuddle buddy. I’ve enjoyed it. Well… wish me luck on my job!

“You’re back? That was fast! I barely had time to finish making dinner!” Jimin called out as you entered, tired from a long week (more like a long month or two by now) of classes and work but nonetheless happy to be home with Jimin. 

Throwing your bag on the closest chair, you went to him and gave him a tight side hug. Almost immediately, you felt some of your built up stress leave you. He was magical like that. You could be having a horrible day and just the sight of your best friend would make it all so much better. The nights where you would sit on the couch together and read or watch tv or just talk were your favorites. Jimin’s head would slowly drift into your lap and you would start to play with his soft hair and ears, your eyes trailing his beautiful face. Tonight would probably be one of those nights if you had any say in his evening plans. 

Jimin’s tail quivered and tickled your nose.

“I am sorry you had such a rough day, Y/n-ah.” Jimin said with a whine and you felt him move to set whatever he was holding down.

“It’s life, I guess.”

“That doesn’t make it any better, ”Jimin turned around and started hugging you tightly as well, gently rubbing his cheek against your neck, “I don’t like it when you’re this stressed, Y/n-ah. Let me take care of you tonight. I don’t want you stressing anymore tonight.” 

You laughed but gave in as Jimin started leading you to the couch before he started to bring the food he made into the living space as well. Soon enough, you were being coddled by Jimin who was making sure you ate and cuddling you as the two of you watched some random show. Sleep didn’t find you that night though. For some unknown reason, butterflies were hatching in your stomach and all you could do is feel them flutter around while wondering why you were possibly feeling such flutters. 

Less than a month later, as snow started falling down rapidly, you found yourself in a similar situation. It was your turn to make dinner, which wasn’t a problem because it also happened to be one of the rare days you had off. It was almost 8 at night by the time you finished dinner, the sun long set and Jimin would be home soon. You’d just finished setting the table and were scared by how harshly Jimin slammed the door shut. Normally he was so careful with closing the door, respectful of your neighbors and not wanting to damage anything. 

“Jimin-ah? Is that you?”

“Who else would it be? Have you been giving spare keys to your friends?”

You laughed and grabbed his backpack from him, “Aish. Why would I do that? We agreed not to. How was your day?”

Jimin walked into his room, his door open as he started changing. All the while he was venting. The students didn’t catch on to his newest dance as fast as he’d hoped and during break he heard them complaining. Then he ended up needing to take on an extra class because one of his coworkers bailed and he didn’t have time to practice for his showcase next week. Which was also a complete mess because everyone was being complete idiots, not that Jimin would ever tell them that.

“I’ve been looking forward to dinner all day though.” Jimin said with a large smile on his face as he sat down at the table, you joined him.

After dinner, you and Jimin sat on the couch and as Shrek was playing, he curled up next to you and rested his head on your lap, demanded pets. You wanted to laugh and make fun of him for being so clingy but refrained. He was so stressed. Now wasn’t the right time to make fun of him and his vulnerability. Plus, part of you relished in him wanting cuddles from you. 

Dear Diary,

I am sorry that I’ve been neglecting you. Lol. I’ve been so busy! Being a student full time with a part time job is stressful. Who would have thought? Jimin’s been stressing sooo much over his latest dance performance. It is honestly stressing me out. 

It probably isn’t healthy for him either. He literally spent the whole weekend practicing at the studio… I dropped off lunch for him both days. AND yesterday was one of his days to make dinner and instead of telling me that he couldn’t, he simply didn’t return to the apartment until, like, 10pm. I was so worried. THEN! He got upset at me for assuming he’d be cooking when his show is this Friday. Like, sorry I wasn’t informed that you wouldn’t be. 

More importantly though, I am worried about Jimin. He used to come to me before his performances and we would talk. I was a person he could turn to for stress relief, but all he’s done leading up to this performance is snap at me and hide away in his studio in preparation. I don’t want him to be this stressed out… 

What should I do?

By the next day, you’d figured out what must be done. You were going to forcefully bring Jimin home and the two of you would relax. All of Jimin’s favorite foods were laid out on the living space’s coffee table and you’d even gotten some extra skin care stuff because you knew Jimin loved that. This night would be all about relaxing. Hell, you were even prepared to massage Jimin’s gross feet and back. You’d do anything to make sure that Jimin could relax some. 

You just had to… go to his studio and interrupt him in the middle of his practice… and forcefully bring him home. 

No big deal. You could do it.

Right?

Right.

With a deep sigh, you gave your relaxation set-up a final once over and left the house. It was already 5pm and if you were going to make Jimin relax, you were going to need to start it soon. All throughout driving to Jimin’s studio, you were thinking over the many ways you could try to convince Jimin to relax and when you finally made it to the studio, you realized another issue: 

You had no idea which room he had rented out today.

With an awkward smile and a nod at the receptionist, you made your way into the building. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too hard to find Jimin… 

Of course it was hard. He just so happened to be in the third floor studio furthest from the stairs. When you found his room, you noticed he wasn’t alone. Minju was also visiting him. Neither of them noticed you approaching the door. Both were sitting and talking and when you reached the door you started to be able to hear tidbits of what they were saying.

“You’re going to… Seriously?”

“Yeah. I figured it’d be a super sweet way to confess. It’s why I am stressing so much about this performance. It has to be perfect.”

Oh.

You didn’t open the door.

Jimin liked someone? 

Why didn’t you know?

You were best friends right?

Best friends were supposed to tell this stuff. 

Sadness and disappointment filled your stomach and you contemplated turning around and just letting Jimin practice. Clearly this was important to him. You didn’t want to get in the way of him and another person.

“I don’t know man. Y/n… like this.”

“Like you would know? You’ve known her for the equivalence of a year and then some! I have been… five years now. I was… and as she celebrated!”

“Woah, Jimin-ah… I’m going to go now. Good luck.”

What?

Your brain was short circuiting. He liked you? You must have misheard that. That wasn’t possible. Jimin was… he was a catch and you were just you.

Did you even think of him that way? 

“Oh! Hi, Y/n-ah. Crazy seeing you here!” Minju practically shouted, a smirk on his face as he looked back at Jimin. 

Fuck! Somehow you managed to mumble a hello to Minju before shuffling into the dance studio and looking at Jimin. He looked tired. He also looked shocked and afraid. 

You weren’t supposed to hear what you just heard.

“O-Oh… Y/n-ah! What are you doing here?” 

“Well… I, uhhh, I came because I was worried about you. You’re coming home whether you like it or not and you’re going to relax with me.” You tried to be assertive but all the gusto you’d worked up seemed to have disappeared with Minju. 

“O-Ok.”

“How much of that c-conversation did you hear, Y/n-ah?”

You sighed, “I…,” Were you about to be honest about this? 

Did you want him confessing in front of a crowd of people?

No.

“I think I heard you say that you were planning on confessing to me after your performance?” You didn’t sound sure of yourself, not in the slightest. Not that you knew how anyone could possibly be sure of themselves in such a situation. Jimin himself seemed to deflate, his eyes wide.   

“Fuck. This isn’t how you were supposed to find out. I had–”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his confirmation of wanting to ask you out.

Why?

Did you have a crush on him?

“So you were planning on confessing?”

“Yeah? I am so sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. Fuck. I didn’t think this through. We’re roommates. This–”

“I’d be down for a date…” 

“What?” Jimin jumped up, his tail quivering and ears twitching.

“I’d be down for a date. I… I don’t know if I like you back, romantically at least… but I might and I won’t know unless we try.” Jimin looked at you with shock and you started to feel much, much smaller than Jimin.

“What? Really?”

You nodded.

“Omo! Omo! You won’t regret this one bit!” Jimin was bouncing around the room, excitement clearly evident on his face as he celebrated. 

Next thing you knew, you were being pulled into a tight hug, Jimin gently rubbing your neck and repeatedly saying “thank you”. Those damn butterflies never left and as you looked at him, you started to really enjoy the idea of dating him. 

He was your little squirrel… but he wasn’t that little.

“When do you want our first date to be? Oh! I need time to plan! Can we have it after my performance? I really need to keep practicing for it… even if I’m not confessing to you after it anymore. Is that ok with you?” Jimin pulled away from the hug, holding you at arms length and looking worried once again. His brows were furrowed and his teeth worried away at his plump lips.

Huh… You’d never noticed just how cute his plump lips were.

“Hmmm… no.” Jimin paled once again, “Our first date… will be… right now.” You said with a smile and a laugh as his brows furrowed deeper. 

You reached up and soothed the space between his brows with a soft coo, “You’re super stressed, Jimin-ah. I don’t enjoy seeing you stressed. I planned to take you away from the studio tonight. I have skin care and food back home… and if we want we can also go to your favorite bibimbap restaurant before going back to the apartment. How does that sound?” 

Jimin looked conflicted, his cute beady eyes searching your face and moving around the room as he thought. Unless he spoke, you wouldn’t know what he was thinking over and you had half a mind to ask him to speak but instead, you simply waited for Jimin to come to a decision.

“I mean… I was hoping to have some really extravagant first date,” He started but he had already moved to his bag at the side of the room, “This does sound like a great date though… maybe more of a second date or a third date in my opinion–”

“Let’s count it as our second date then. No need to split hairs, Jimin-ah. I’ll wait for you outside the locker room.”

Without giving Jimin time to say anything else, you left and made your way down the stairs to where the locker rooms were. Jimin ran quickly down the stairs and bolted into the locker room, his soft brown ears pinned to his head from how fast he was going. You laughed before settling onto the floor outside the locker room and playing one of the games on your phone. It would be a flip of the coin to see how long Jimin would take. You were personally betting that he is so excited to go on the date that he rushes and is out in fifteen, but he could also want to look good for the date and in turn take an hour. 

Not that he didn’t always look good. 

Even when you just thought of him as a friend, you knew he looked good. Did you think of him as more than a friend? Possibly, yeah. The idea of going on dates with him and being romantic with him sounds amazing. You were really excited to see how this date will go. Distractedly, you tapped away at your game, your mind in la-la-land as it started to think up a future with Jimin. 

“Ready, Y/n-ah?” Jimin asked when he finally finished in the changing room. 

In the end, he took a whole hour and a half to get ready and you were almost positive that you saw Jisoo sneak into the changing room with a bag from your apartment, his sleek tail almost hit you in the face as he exited the locker room. As you looked up at Jimin, you were once again struck by just how handsome he was. He styled his hair away from his face somehow and he looked unfairly good in his black skinny jeans and an oversized sweater. 

You clambered up onto your feet, your legs numb from sitting in one spot for so long, and nodded at him with a shy smile. Gingerly, as if he was scared of breaking you, he grabbed your hand and the two of you left the dance studio. 

Dear Diary,

Jimin asked me out! I was so shocked! Like… it isn’t bad at all… It is actually nice. Really nice. I like it a ton… and even though we’ve only gone on one date so far, I am really starting to like the idea of dating Jimin. He is so… so cute and kind and attentive. We got bibimbap and then just did skincare and stuff. 

Something I am really glad about though is that I found out tonight. Apparently, Jimin was hoping to ask me out Friday after his performance… which would have been so embarrassing… (Imagine the pressure and… PDA is roughhh)… but I overheard him talking to Minju. Gosh. I wonder how Minju thinks of this. Did Jimin text him that we started dating? Is he just waiting until we see each other next? I don’t know what I’d prefer. 

But uhhh… Jimin and I talked about having a “real” first date after his performance. I’m a little apprehensive though… I don’t want him to be exhausted during our first date. I trust Jimin though. He knows himself better than anyone else and if he thinks that he can handle a date after his recital… then so be it. 

AHHH! I am so excited! Wish me luck. I really hope this works out. 

You adjusted anxiously in the theater seat, your dress feeling all too tight in all the wrong places as you looked over the recital directory. Jisoo and Minju were next to you, glancing at you and smirking every once in a while. Jimin most definitely told them that you’re dating… and it doesn’t help that you showed up to the recital over-dressed in preparation for your date with Jimin afterwards. Which was at some super fancy place… how he roped you into that? You don’t know. You were just glad that he’d agreed to go dutch. There wasn’t any way in the world that you’d let him pay for both of your meals at such an expensive restaurant. 

The recital hall was packed, people murmuring and talking excitedly. All of it stopped though when the lights dimmed and the host (a stout looking woman with some sort of large ears on her head) came on to introduce people. Soon enough the recital started and you became entranced by the many dancers who flounced around on stage. They all seemed so… natural up on the stage. Your breath was completely taken away when Jimin performed though. He was practically flying on stage and the way he moved was so… graceful and fluid. All too soon he was done. He’d taken the show. All throughout the rest of the recital you were transfixed. Jimin’s dance was playing on repeat in your mind, your breath stolen and thoughts completely empty. Soon enough, the show finished up and everyone around you was cheering. Almost half-heartedly, you joined along and followed Minju and Jisoo to where the meet-up was. 

Why were you so anxious about seeing Jimin now? You were about to go on a date with him and yet all you could think about was his dance. In no time, Jimin was bouncing over in a nice suit of his own. 

How were you supposed to function? 

Not only was he the best dancer in… in the world but he was also undoubtedly the most handsome man you’d ever met. The three were talking around you but you were still transfixed. A hand gently touched your back and you jumped. 

“Are you ok, Y/n-ah?" 

It was Jimin. He was looking at you with concerned eyes and a soft smile. Minju and Jisoo were gone. You two were alone. 

"I… Yeah. You were amazing out there. I am just… speechless.”

Jimin laughed quietly, a smug smile on his face as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“You’re ready for our date?" 

You nodded excitedly, walking out of the theater with Jimin in tow. This was going to be an amazing night. 

Dear Diary,

Tonight was AMAZING. I know I was apprehensive before about dating Jimin but OMG IT WAS SOOOO GOOD. He was such a gentleman and when we held hands I felt butterflies erupt and it just.. It felt so nice. Tonight literally couldn’t have go-

Dear Y/n’s Diary,

I promise to take good care of her. We had a great night and I plan on making her my girlfriend soon. Now if you excuse us, I need cuddles from her.

Jimin.

[notalwaysthevillian]

Heart Eyes and Headlines

Summary: Remy Sanders grew up famous. His father was an actor, and his dad was a rock star. Due to this, he ends up with a bodyguard for most of his life. After a brief stint without one, Remy decides to hire himself a new bodyguard. And this one is hot as hell.

Pairings: Romantic Remile, Prinxiety; Implied Romantic Moceit

Word Count: ~2.2k

Read the other fics by the other members of @thesquirtlesquadwrites (meaning @not-so-innocent-bi-sander and @nekoabiwrites) here!

Remy Sanders grew up having a lot of nice things. Despite this, his dads had made sure he was grateful for what he had. They had been overjoyed when he’d donated his presents to the local children’s hospital when he was ten.

Well, most of the presents.

But having two famous dads wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Due to his father being an Oscar winning actor and his dad having won a few Grammys, Remy was thrust into the limelight more than he ever wanted to be.

Around the age of thirteen, the press had started trying to get close to him to get their information on his dads. It only took Remy throwing coffee at a camera once before Roman and Virgil opted to hire a bodyguard for their son.

Davy was an excellent bodyguard, and even better at lying to the press. He had a bit of a smaller stature, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t take someone to the ground if he had to.

And he’d had to. A few times.

When Remy became a legal adult, his dads had sat him down, asking if he still wanted a bodyguard. Davy had met someone and was thinking about settling down, but was willing to watch over Remy for a few more years if necessary.

Remy had bid Davy adieu, but continued to keep in touch. Who wouldn’t when his husband was as sweet as can be?

The press occasionally hounded Remy, but for the most part had learned to back off. He couldn’t help but laugh when he heard a few paparazzi mention that Davy could be lurking around the corner.

His blissful bubble only lasted until his 24th birthday. He threw a big extravaganza, but managed to keep it a private party.

Somehow, someway, some press had gotten in. His party, and his drunken rants, had been broadcasted in the news cycle.

Mortified, Remy talked to his dads about a bodyguard again.

Which brought him to what he was currently doing. Sifting through various applications as he lazed on his couch.

“Let’s see…” he mumbled to himself as he flipped a paper over. “Emile Picani. 26 years old, no experience. But he did work as a therapist. Possibility.”

As he continued on with the applications, he couldn’t get the therapist out of his mind. It sure would be nice to have someone who’d listen to your problems, while also protecting you from your problems.

In the end, he ended up choosing one Mr. Emile Picani to become his bodyguard. He’d replied to the application with his acceptance, receiving a formally worded response back. They agreed to meet up at the local coffee place within the hour.

About ten minutes before he was supposed to be there, Remy grabbed his black leather jacket, calling, “I’m meeting my new bodyguard, be home soon!”

Barely hearing the goodbyes, he headed down in the elevator. Once he was in the lobby, he flipped his sunglasses on. It helped that they had a dual function - sun protection and camera protection.

Avoiding the paparazzi the best he could, and he’d gotten fairly good at it, he made his way into the back door of the coffee shop. The owners were wonderful, allowing him to use the employee entrance. He suspected it was because he tipped enough to keep this place running. But why wouldn’t he? They had fantastic coffee.

The owner, Logan, nodded at Remy as soon as he walked in. “Usual?”

“Yes please.”

Moving to sit at the agreed table, Remy sat so he could face the door. When Logan came over with his drink, he already had a fifty out. “Thanks, Lo.”

“You’re not usually here this late in the afternoon.” Logan commented as he wiped down a table nearby.

“Oh, I’m meeting my new bodyguard today.” Remy took a sip of the drink, reveling in the flavor. “This is perfect, Logan, thank you.”

“Isn’t it always?” He teased, before heading back behind the counter.

At four on the dot, the door opened. Remy’s eyes flicked to the man who’d walked in, looking him up and down immediately. This guy was hot as hell. He had to be about 6’4”, with the most muscled arms Remy had ever seen. How did someone make a Steven Universe shirt look that good?

Feeling the blush creep up his neck as the man headed in his direction, Remy quickly chugged the rest of his coffee.

“Did you need another one?” The man asked, hovering by the table. “I can grab one when I go get one for myself.”

“You don’t have to -”

Before Remy could protest further, the man grabbed the cup from his hand, giving him a smile. Remy tried not to think about the spark that had passed through their fingers when they’d brushed together as he watched the man walk up to the counter.

Once Logan had finished with the order, he shot a wink to Remy, who sank down in his seat. Why did this guy have to be so hot? It was hard enough hiding from the press in general, he couldn’t exactly walk down the street as...excited as he was.

“Here you go!” The man said, sliding the coffee across the table before holding out a hand. “Emile Picani, at your service.”

“Um, Remy Sanders, but you knew that.” Remy said, shaking Emile’s hand. It was super soft, this guy definitely used lotion. “So...I looked over your application and saw that you used to be a therapist. What changed?”

Emile took a sip of his drink. There was no way he didn’t see Remy’s eyes watching his mouth. “I stopped getting patients. For a while I had a steady clientele, but then people stopped liking my therapy style. I didn’t want to change who I was, so I figured it was time for a career change.”

“And you chose to be a bodyguard instead?”

“When I was going through my options, a friend of mine suggested it as a joke. But I thought it over and it made sense.” Emile’s eyes started to sparkle as he spoke. “I enjoy helping people in any way I can. Working out is a stress reliever for me, so I stay in great shape. And the paparazzi have always ticked me off a little, even though I’d never show it.”

Stashing his thoughts of ‘this man is perfect’, Remy leaned forward, resting elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. “You seem perfect for the job. But I am curious, are you a fan of either of my parents?”

“Oh, I’ve been following Roman’s career for years.” Emile finished off his drink. “Not in a stalker-y way, just in a generic fan way. And Virgil’s music is excellent, but it’s not really my style? My friend Remus enjoys it though.”

After talking for another hour, Remy’s phone went off.

Father: You coming home for dinner? Or did you get eaten by the press?

Rem: Be home soon!

“Are you cool with walking me back to the pent-the apartment?” Remy asked. “Obviously you’re welcome to stay for dinner if you want.”

“Sounds great.” Emile stood, grabbing their garbage and tossing it.

Rem: Set another place at the table.

Dad: On it

Remy lead Emile out the back of the coffee shop, before pointing down an alley. “This way.”

Almost as soon as they’d popped out of the alley, a few journalists descended on them.

“Remy! What can you tell us about Roman’s oscar nomination?”

“When is Virgil dropping his new album?”

The questions grew to a crescendo, before Emile stepped in front of Remy. His crossed arms, combined with the look on his face, made him look much more intimidating than the sweet guy Remy had just talked to for over an hour.

“Mr. Sanders is not taking any questions.” He said, his voice as cold as ice. “Please excuse us.”

Shockingly, a few of the journalists backed off. All except for Joshua, the lead reporter for Slander. While the others were distracted, he tried to move around Emile.

It didn’t go so well for him.

Before Remy could blink, Joshua was on the ground, his notebook knocked into a puddle. Emile raised an eyebrow, his hands fisted at his sides. “I said that he’s not taking any questions.”

Not giving Joshua a chance to get up, Emile nodded to Remy, who continued on down the sidewalk.

“That was incredible.” He whispered in awe when they were out of earshot.

Emile shrugged. “Part of the job, right?”

Dinner that night went swimmingly. Virgil and Roman found Emile to be an extremely polite man. When Remy told them what had happened, they’d nodded at each other, clearly approving the new bodyguard.

“I don’t know if anyone can beat Davy, but he’s a pretty close second.”

Over the next eight months, Remy really got to know Emile and vice versa. Davy hadn’t really talked much about his private life on the job, but Emile was a lot friendlier. Well, friendlier with Remy anyway. Joshua was now much less of a problem.

No, the problem now was Remy’s ever growing crush on his bodyguard.

The first time Emile leaned down to whisper in Remy’s ear, asking if he wanted to leave a party, Remy had to use all of his willpower to keep from melting on the spot. Emile hadn’t meant anything by it, but his hot breath against Remy’s ear was something Remy for sure wanted to feel again.

Whenever they went out, Emile went out of his way to open doors for Remy. It was such a simple gesture, but it was one that turned Remy’s insides to goo every single time.

In addition to his good looks and stunning personality, Emile was ripped as fuck. Remy knew that he had thick arms, but when he’d walked into the penthouse gym to find Emile working out with no shirt, the noise he made was inhuman. This was followed by him darting off to his room and screaming into a pillow.

After eight months, the two of them had started to be alone more often. At first, Remy hadn’t gone out as much, unsure of how Emile would react to his usual party lifestyle. But as he’d stopped partying, he realized he really didn’t enjoy it as much as he’d used to.

So he stopped partying all together.

Instead, he and Emile would go to places Remy had never been before. Once he’d found out that Emile had used cartoons in his therapy sessions, he dragged the man to a new art exhibit that features old cartoons in new styles. Emile’s smile had been comparable to a supernova that day, rather than its usual sunniness.

But, of course, the press had started to notice that Remy and Emile were hanging out more often.

“Um, Rem?” Roman had asked one morning, hiding a smile. “Care to explain this?”

He tossed an issue of Slander on the table. Remy groaned when he saw that it was a picture of him and Emile on the cover.

The headline was even worse.

Is Remy Sanders dating his bodyguard?

“We aren’t dating.” He hissed at the magazine, wishing he had laser vision like Roman had in his latest movie. “God, I wish Joshua would knock this shit off.”

“I dunno Rem,” Virgil said as he looked over his husband’s shoulder. “It kinda looks like you’re giving him heart eyes.”

Blood rushed to Remy’s cheeks in an instant. “I - I’m not -”

Roman merely raised an eyebrow, a twinkle in his eye. “You’re not? Because from what I’ve observed, you have a huge crush on him.”

Blushing even more, Remy stuffed the magazine in the trash and headed off to his room to get ready for the day.

Buried in his closet, for the first time, Remy heard Emile call his name. “In here!”

He felt Emile approach as he dug through his jackets. His heart was pounding a mile a minute. There was absolutely no way he didn’t see the headline.

“So, um...about what Joshua wrote.”

“God, I hate that guy.” Finally finding his favorite jacket, Remy yanked it off the hanger and pulled it on. “He should really mind his own business. So what if I have a crush on you?”

The words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop. The second he realized what he’d said, he buried his face in his hands, feeling his skin burn. “I’m so sorry, we can pretend I didn’t say that.”

“Why?”

Soft hands grabbed Remy’s wrists, gently uncovering his face. Emile looked into Remy’s eyes, his own cheeks a baby pink.

“What?”

“Why pretend you didn’t say that?” Emile leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. “I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it by now, but I like you too.”

“You do?”

Emile nodded, his eyes darting down to Remy’s lips. “Mhmm.”

His heart bursting with joy, Remy surged forward, connecting their lips. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

The next day, Slander had a new headline.

Remile confirmed!

[crescentmoon223]

When This is Over

As promised, my Stella/Scully quarantine fic. Heads up, it’s SUPER SMUTTY - you’ve been warned lol.

Tensions run high when Stella and Scully are forced to self-isolate together at home during a global pandemic. How far will Scully go to convince Stella to take her on a belated honeymoon once this is over? (Hint: bedroom hijinks!)

Read it on AO3 Note: This is set in present day (spring 2020), post Two Worlds Collide and after their wedding. When I write the sequel to TWC, it will be set during the summer and fall of 2019, directly after the epilogue (and yes, it will include their wedding!) Sorry if this is confusing, but it’s the only way the timeline made sense in my head lol. Obviously, I would rather write the TWC sequel first (and I do hope to write it next month!) but the idea for this quarantine fic hit last weekend, and I decided to go for it while it was relevant. I hope you enjoy! xx

-----

There were certain sounds that Scully associated with this new chapter in their lives. The clatter of fingers on a keyboard. The murmur of newscasters from the television in the kitchen. The flute music Stella listened to while she did yoga. And currently, the bump and clatter of her obsessively cleaning their flat. Scully looked up from her laptop with a smile as Stella entered her line of vision. She wore gray yoga pants with a black tank top, her hair tied back with a red polka-dot bandana. She wiped down their already sparkling countertops, spraying and scrubbing at spots only she could see. Everyday Stella was a neat freak and a bit of a germophobe. Stella during a viral pandemic was next level. “Nice ass,” Scully called as Stella bent to wipe down the front of one of the cabinets. Stella shot her an exasperated look, but she turned, leaning over the sink to rinse her cleaning cloth in a way that pressed her breasts together, emphasizing her cleavage beneath the snug-fitting tank top, and it certainly wasn’t accidental.

Read the rest on AO3

Scully closed out of the software the university was using for its virtual classroom. She’d been teaching forensics online for a week now, and it had gone relatively smoothly, although she missed the face-to-face interaction with her students. Setting her laptop on the table, she returned her attention to her wife. “Planning to stop cleaning anytime soon?” Another sharp look from Stella. “I’ll stop when it’s clean.” Scully knew better than to argue with her. She fought a smile as she remembered the abject horror on Stella’s face after she’d been told that as Detective Chief Superintendent, a position which required little to no field work, she was one of the non-essential Met personnel who would be expected to work from home until the self-isolation period had passed. In the days since, she had quickly demonstrated why she was not a good candidate to work from home. Unable to go to the office—or the pool—she’d covered the living room table with Met paperwork, file folders and notebooks filled with her ingenious musings. When she wasn’t working, she alternated between cleaning fits, ill-fated yoga sessions that tended to end in a lot of swearing and whiskey drinking, and watching entirely too much news BBC coverage on COVID-19. In short, she was driving Scully crazy. For her part, Scully had a more pragmatic approach. She’d suffered through many less pleasant quarantine situations than this one during her time on the X Files, and she’d already faced the potential end of the world as she knew it…more than once. She was perfectly content now to teach from her home office, run her own data on the progression of the virus, and spend plenty of time with her wife. If only she could get Stella to settle. “I need to check on my mom, and then we should start thinking about dinner,” Scully told her. “There are steaks in the freezer,” Stella said. “I’ll put them in the sink to thaw.” “Perfect.” Scully picked up her laptop and opened FaceTime to dial her mom. Maggie’s face appeared on the screen, and Scully felt something deep inside her relax. Probably the hardest part of this mandatory self-isolation was being trapped an ocean away from her mom, who was in a high-risk category due to her age. Thankfully, Maggie had lots of people checking on her. “Dana, I was just thinking about you,” she said with a smile. “How are you today, Mom?” “Oh, I’m just fine. Fox dropped by earlier. He brought me groceries, that sweet man.” Scully’s heart clenched. Mulder was a sweet man to check on her mom for her, not that she’d ever doubted this about him. They were family, in every way that mattered. She made a mental note to call him in the morning to thank him, and to make sure he was taking care of himself too. “He didn’t come in, did he?” “No. He left the groceries on the porch and then sat and talked with me for a while through the window.” Scully smiled. “That was nice of him.” “He talked a lot about increased UFO sightings, particularly in areas with the highest rate of infection.” Maggie’s eyes widened. “Mom.” Scully shook her head in exasperation. “It’s not an alien virus. In fact, it originated from bats.” “Well, he was very convincing, is all I’m saying,” Maggie told her. “He always is,” Scully agreed. “You’re still feeling fine? No symptoms?” “I’m as healthy as a seventy-six-year-old woman could expect to be,” Maggie said. “I even went for a walk around the neighborhood earlier, and before you ask, yes, I kept my distance from everyone else.” “Good,” Scully said, wishing more than anything that she could reach through the screen and give her mom a hug. “Remember, there’s no reason to panic if you do develop symptoms, but it’s extremely important that you get tested right away. Tests are hard to come by in the US, but I know people who can pull strings for you.” “I know, I know,” Maggie said, waving her hands impatiently. “How are you and Stella?” “We’re fine,” Scully told her, glancing toward the kitchen, but Stella was nowhere in sight. “Just a bit stir crazy, but who isn’t?” “I imagine this is very difficult for Stella,” Maggie said with a knowing smile. Scully grinned. “You got that right.” “Did I hear my name?” Stella emerged from the hallway, having changed into a white T-shirt and drawstring pants, her hair loose over her shoulders. She sat on the couch beside Scully, waving politely at Maggie. “Hi, Stella,” Maggie said warmly. “How are you?” “I’m fine, despite what Dana may be telling you,” she said, giving Scully a look. “And how are you, Maggie?” “The very same,” Maggie said with a laugh. Stella joined the conversation for a few minutes before excusing herself to the kitchen to check on the steaks. “I’ll talk to you again tomorrow, Mom,” Scully said. “And call me anytime, for any reason, no matter the hour. Promise?” “Will do,” Maggie said. “Good night, Dana. I love you.” “Love you too, Mom.” She ended the call and closed her laptop. Her gaze caught on the gold band glinting on her left ring finger. She was thankful for it for so many reasons, but right now, it symbolized a vitally important connection between her and Stella. If the worst were to happen and one of them became sick, they would have spousal privileges at the hospital. Stella was her next of kin, with visitation rights and the power to make any difficult decisions that might need to be made. And Scully would do the same for Stella. Both of them had living wills and all their wishes already clearly defined, but it gave her an extra sense of peace knowing they had each other. She touched the ring with a smile. “What do you want to do until dinner?” Stella asked, rejoining her on the couch. “Oh, I’m sure we can think of something.” She smiled as Stella’s fingers traced the seam of Scully’s jeans from her knee slowly up her thigh. They’d always enjoyed an active sex life, but being stuck at home together had made them even more insatiable than usual. She reached for Stella, sliding one hand into her hair as she pulled her in for a kiss. Stella smelled like lemons and soap, her lips soft and pliant against Scully’s. She stared into the azure depths of Stella’s eyes as her mind flipped all the way back to their first kiss against the side of Stella’s car over twenty years ago. They’d shared a lifetime of kisses since, two continents worth, from London to Maryland to Wyoming. Lately, she’d been wanting to add someplace new to that list. She pressed her lips against a sensitive spot on Stella’s jaw, feeling the shudder that ran through her. “You still owe me a honeymoon, you know.” “This isn’t enough for you?” Stella quipped, hands roaming beneath Scully’s shirt. “Endless weeks trapped here at home, fucking each other senseless?” She shook her head, gasping as Stella sucked at the spot beneath her ear that had always been her undoing. “I’m serious. If we survive this pandemic—” “If?” Stella interrupted, her tone sharp. “When,” Scully corrected. “When this is over, we owe it to ourselves to take a real vacation, one that has nothing to do with work or family. Just you and me, celebrating our marriage somewhere special.” Stella said nothing, instead swirling her tongue over Scully’s neck while she teased her through her jeans. But despite her already-wet panties, Scully persisted, because seduction as a form of distraction was the oldest rule in Stella’s book. “Paris,” she said, sliding into Stella’s lap. “There are so many museums we could explore, so much art. The Mona Lisa…” Stella arched her hips so Scully could move against her, friction building through their clothes. “I’ve seen the Mona Lisa.” “But I haven’t.” She slipped a hand between them, touching Stella through her pants, pleased as Stella’s breath hitched, nipples hardening beneath her T-shirt. “Take me, Stel.” “Yes,” Stella said throatily. “Take me to Paris,” she clarified, fingers moving over the soft cotton of Stella’s pants, already damp with her arousal. “We’ll see,” Stella hedged. She thought vacations were a waste of time and money, an extravagance that could be better indulged in fine liquors, fabrics, and other luxuries right here at home. Scully was generally inclined to agree with her. They both worked hard and traveled often enough for work or to visit family that a separate vacation just for the two of them sometimes felt like too much effort. But this was different. She’d already lost too many years to unpredictable viruses and quarantine protocols. She deserved a trip to Paris, at the very least. They both did. But if sex was Stella’s preferred means of communication at the moment, maybe she could use that to her advantage. Scully bent her head and kissed Stella, hands sliding behind her back to hold her close. Her tongue slid into the welcome heat of Stella’s mouth, tasting whiskey. “Picture it, Stella,” she murmured against her lips. “Sidewalk cafés, wine and cheese and melt-in-your-mouth pastries on our balcony.” “Mm,” Stella said noncommittally, hands gripping Scully’s ass. “Versailles,” Scully whispered against the pulse point on Stella’s neck, watching as goose bumps rose on her skin. “Gardens. Flowers. So many beautiful churches.” “I hate church,” Stella said breathlessly. “I’m not asking you to sit through a service with me, just admire the architecture and the stained glass.” She swirled her tongue over Stella’s collarbone, rewarded by a sharp inhale. “Let’s go, when this is over.” “Dana…” Stella’s body stilled beneath Scully’s. “We don’t know when that will be or what the world will look like.” “I know that.” She sat up, taking Stella’s chin in her hand to force her to meet her eyes. “I know that better than almost anyone.” “Then why are you pushing me for a trip right now of all times?” There was a fragility to the fierceness in Stella’s gaze. She was afraid. Scully softened at the realization. “The world will look different when this is over, and it will be a while before we can go to Paris, but it’s good for morale to have something to look forward to, and I would imagine the economy will need a boost from tourism when all is said and done.” “I can find you plenty of architecture and stained glass right here in London.” Stella popped the button on Scully’s jeans, pushing down the zipper with a soft metallic hiss. Scully pressed closer. “Not the point.” “Agree to disagree?” Stella’s fingers dove down the front of Scully’s underwear. Her hips rolled against Stella’s hand as a soft whimper escaped her throat, and a wicked idea took hold in her mind. “I’ll play you for it.” “What?” An adorable wrinkle appeared in Stella’s brow. Scully sat up straighter, grinning. “Sex games are your specialty, are they not?” Stella’s eyebrows lifted. “What kind of game?” “If I can make you come first, we go to Paris. If you make me come first, we stay home.” She dangled the bait, knowing Stella would be unable to refuse, even as she also knew her chances of winning were slim. Stella’s self-control was legendary, after all. But it would be fun to try, and it might even distract Stella from the reality of their situation for a little while. Sure enough, the flame in Stella’s eyes lit. “You’re on.” * * * Stella pushed Scully onto the bed and climbed on top of her, both of them still fully clothed. Now that Scully had made this a game with their honeymoon as the prize, they were both eager to take things slow. Frankly, Stella couldn’t imagine a better way to spend what remained of the afternoon than to slowly and relentlessly tease Scully right over the edge…repeatedly. “You smell good,” Scully murmured, shifting beneath her so that Stella’s right thigh slid between her own. “I took a quick shower while you were talking to your mother.” Stella pressed her thigh more firmly against Scully, rewarded by a little moan. She liked this position, being on top, in control, a feeling that had been in short supply since she’d been sent home from work. Stella hated laying low, waiting the threat to pass. Her every instinct screamed for her to get out there on the frontlines and fight this thing. She’d fearlessly stared down every kind of evil imaginable over the years, but this one was different. There was no bravery in going outside now, nothing but her own stupidity to blame if she allowed the virus to catch her. There was a helplessness to being trapped at home that was slowly eating her alive. She’d cleaned everything she could get her hands on, the only way she knew to fight this faceless threat. She’d checked on Fran nearly as often as Scully called her mother. She’d watched while Scully analyzed articles and data, showing her graphs that scared the fuck out of her, while Scully herself faced their uncertain future with a kind of serenity that made Stella want to scream. Distantly, she wondered if Scully knew all of this, if she’d manufactured this sex game to get Stella out of her head for a little while, to give her a sense of power here that she couldn’t find elsewhere right now. It wouldn’t surprise her, but she wasn’t going to let it ruin this moment either. She slid a hand beneath Scully’s top—a crisp black button-down she’d worn for her online teaching earlier that day—and cupped her over her bra. She brushed her thumb back and forth, feeling Scully’s nipples harden beneath her touch. Scully deftly untied the drawstring on Stella’s pants, slipping a hand inside. “Stella,” she said in a scandalized tone. “Did you FaceTime my mother without underwear?” “Easier to get undressed afterward.” She swallowed a whimper as Scully’s fingers slid over her bare skin before retreating to palm her equally bare breasts. “I’ll say.” Scully pushed Stella’s shirt up, helping her slide it over her head. Stella straightened, tits bouncing as she rocked her hips against Scully’s. The coronavirus was outside her control, but this—her body, her pleasure—this she controlled. That she would win was already a forgone conclusion. She could hardly believe Scully had even offered the challenge. “This might be a better view than anything I would find in the Louvre,” Scully said, gaze locked on Stella’s tits. “All the more reason not to go.” Stella began unbuttoning Scully’s blouse, pausing after each button to kiss the newly exposed skin, leaving a wet trail down the center of her chest and over the clasp of her bra. She continued all the way to the waistband of Scully’s jeans, her shirt now hanging open at her sides. Scully looked down at her, chest heaving, bottom lip pinched between her teeth. “Well, don’t stop there.” “Wasn’t planning to.” Stella eased the shirt down Scully’s left arm and then the right before tossing it to the floor. She helped Scully wiggle out of her jeans, dipping her head to kiss her through her underwear before she stripped those away too, followed by her own pants. Once they were both naked, Stella turned her attention to worshipping every inch of Scully’s bare skin. She kissed her breasts, teasing Scully’s nipples until they had tightened into tight rosy buds, which she flicked with her tongue until Scully moaned. Stella looked up and caught her gaze as she began to kiss her way down Scully’s stomach, making sure to pay special attention to all of her most sensitive spots, like that little patch of skin just below her left hipbone, the one that made her whimper and squirm as Stella’s tongue swirled over it. “God, Stella,” Scully groaned, hands fisted in the sheet. “Mm,” she murmured as she flicked her tongue against Scully’s clit, causing her hips to buck upward with a gasp of surprise. Stella was torn between the desire to drive Scully straight over the edge or to hold herself back a bit and at least give Scully a fighting chance. In the end, she wanted this to last as long as possible. Power games in bed were a huge fucking turn on. Just thinking about what was to come had her throbbing in anticipation. She teased Scully with her tongue, licking and sucking but never giving her as much pressure as she knew Scully preferred. She pushed a single finger inside her, thrusting in time with her tongue, toying with her. Scully’s gasping breaths became increasingly labored, her hips shifting restlessly, her arousal fueling Stella’s. She reached between her own thighs, pressing two fingers against her aching clit. She stroked herself once, twice, just enough to give herself momentary relief from the tension building there before returning her hand to Scully’s body, letting her own need drive her as she focused on her wife. She nipped Scully’s clit, drawing a strangled cry from her lips, before trailing a string of wet, open-mouthed kisses down her inner thighs until Scully was writhing beneath her. “Stop,” she mumbled, pushing at Stella’s shoulders. Stella smiled as she complied, sliding up Scully’s body to kiss her on the mouth, tongues tangling, bodies pressed together from head to toe, spreading heat with every movement. They kissed for what felt like hours, and Stella was lost in the sensations, the warmth of Scully’s breath on her cheeks, the weight of Scully’s breasts against her own, the teasing rub of her skin against the parts of Stella that ached for release. And then Scully was moving, shimmying down to position herself between Stella’s thighs. She inhaled sharply, everything inside her tensing in anticipation. Scully was talented in too many ways to name, but the wicked pleasure of her mouth was something that still overwhelmed Stella in the best possible way. She began with one long, slow lick, and Stella felt herself arching off the bed, her body instinctively seeking more. Scully centered the heat of her mouth over Stella’s clit, swirling there until Stella was dizzy with desire, unaware of anything but the hot press of Scully’s tongue and the powerful need coiling inside her. She moved her hips, rocking against Scully’s mouth, allowing herself this moment of surrender before she slid sideways, rolling to face Scully. Need pulsed wickedly inside her, invigorating her, burning away the ugly things that had built in her chest during the day. “Touch yourself,” she demanded, feeling a shiver of excitement as she watched Scully push a hand between her thighs in response. Scully stroked herself, slowly at first, gradually picking up speed. Her lips parted in silent pleasure, and Stella watched, entranced. Scully stared straight into her eyes as she moved, pleasure apparent in the flush on her cheeks and the slightly dazed expression on her face. “You too,” Scully said breathlessly. “Touch yourself.” Stella did, bringing a hand between her thighs, which were already slick with a combination of her own arousal and Scully’s recent attention. She kept her touch light, careful not to give herself too much stimulation, not when Scully had already brought her so close to the edge. She skimmed her fingers over herself as her core clenched, seeking the release she so relentlessly denied herself. “How close are you?” Scully asked, gaze dropping to Stella’s hand, watching as she touched herself. “Not very,” Stella told her, which was technically true, although she could get herself there quickly enough if she allowed it. “On a scale of one to ten,” Scully persisted, her own fingers still moving, stroking. “One being barely aroused, and ten being the point of no return.” Stella smirked. “Six.” “Oh.” Scully slowed her fingers, looking pained to do so. “And you?” Stella couldn’t help asking. “Eight.” She whimpered slightly. “Maybe a nine.” “Interesting.” Stella reached for her, drawing her close. She pushed Scully’s hand aside, replacing it with her own, and fuck, Scully was so wet. It sent a hot thrill through Stella’s body, shooting straight to her clit. Swiftly, she rolled, sliding a thigh between Scully’s in a move streamlined by years of practice, intimate knowledge of exactly how to position herself so that their pussies pressed together for optimal pleasure. Immediately, Scully began to move, grinding vigorously against Stella. “Nine,” Scully gasped. “Definitely a nine.” Stella was headed there pretty quickly herself, her clit thrumming with need beneath the hot, wet slide of Scully’s body. She watched as Scully surrendered, shuddering in her arms, her pussy pulsing against Stella’s as she came, whimpering, hips jerking, and it was so powerful, she nearly took Stella over the edge with her. She began to move against Scully in earnest now, chasing her own release. She arched her hips so that her clit rubbed against Scully’s pelvic bone with each thrust, and yes, this was it. This was perfect. So fucking perfect. Need coiled hot and tight in her core. Scully rolled away with a wicked grin. “I demand a rematch.” “Well, that’s hardly fair,” Stella said, attempting to steady her voice as her thighs pressed together uncomfortably. “Not exactly a level playing field now, is it?” “It’s perfectly fair,” Scully told her. “You deserved to start with a handicap.” And well, she had a point. Even in her current state, Stella could probably still win their bet. She blew out a long, slow breath. Strike that. She could definitely still win their bet. She could win it three times over if she had to. The game was all part of the thrill for her, and as long as it lasted, she didn’t have to think about what was happening outside their flat, the invisible threat she didn’t know how to fight. “All right.” Scully gave her a smug smile, but Stella kissed it right off her face as she moved in, getting right down to business this time. She fucked Scully hard and fast with her fingers, not letting up until Scully was writhing against her all over again. Once she had her sufficiently worked up, Stella withdrew her hand, trailing her glistening fingers over Scully’s stomach, thrilled with the way she trembled beneath Stella’s touch. “And now?” she asked. “Where are you on your little scale?” “At least a seven.” She pressed a thigh between Stella’s legs, angling her hips to give them both some much-needed friction. “You?” “Same.” Stella pressed herself firmly against Scully’s thigh, attempting to hold still, but Scully stymied her with her own movements, causing her thigh to rub rhythmically against Stella’s already hyper-sensitive clit. She gripped tighter with her thighs, allowing it…for now. “You’re so gorgeous when you’re this turned on,” Scully said reverently, tracing a hand over the contour of Stella’s face. “Makes me want to tease you like this forever.” Stella exhaled, hearing the hitch in her breath. Her thighs, still clamped around Scully’s, began to shake. Scully’s hips stilled, bringing them both to a gasping halt. Stella unthreaded their legs, channeling the energy inside her into a blistering kiss, her lips devouring Scully’s, tongues thrusting in an imitation of the act their bodies craved. This kiss was deep and ravenous, feeding a hunger that only grew with each passing moment. Stella could lose herself here, every cell in her body achingly, breathtakingly alive, adrenaline coursing through her veins, all centered in the pulsing ache between her thighs. They moved together, never quite allowing their bodies to touch the way they needed, instead letting the whisper soft brush of skin against skin stoke the fire blazing between them. “Stella,” Scully gasped, fingernails biting into Stella’s back, causing her to exhale sharply in pleasure. “Do that again,” Stella demanded, her voice low and hoarse. Scully’s nails bit into her skin, dragging slowly down her back to dig into her ass, hauling her up against the welcome heat of Scully’s body. Their hips pressed together more firmly now, and Stella couldn’t help but gasp as Scully thrust against her. “Fuck,” Scully mumbled, and Stella grinned against her lips. Despite her best intentions, Scully had very little willpower when it came to postponing her pleasure. “Nine again, hm?” Stella asked. “Yes.” Scully’s movements became increasingly frantic. Stella arched her back, separating their hips, causing Scully to swear. But Stella wasn’t quite ready for this to be over. Not to mention, Scully was also incredibly, impossibly beautiful when she was this turned on. Her blue eyes gleamed with desire, cheeks flushed, breath coming in irregular gasps. Stella slid down to lavish her breasts, licking and sucking as Scully writhed beneath her. And then, Scully rose, flipping Stella beneath her and pinning her to the bed before she’d realized what was happening. “Time to get you to a nine,” Scully panted, and Stella shifted restlessly against the bed. Truthfully, she’d already been there a few times, and it wouldn’t take much to bring her back…or to carry her over the edge. She held herself still as Scully crawled down her body, giving her a heated look before she closed her mouth directly over Stella’s clit, sucking hard. Stella’s hips bucked, and she held her breath against the urge to beg for more. Scully was on a mission, her tongue licking, flicking, swirling with such an intensity that for several long moments, Stella completely lost her wits, grinding shamelessly against Scully’s mouth. Scully pushed two fingers inside her, expertly stroking her upper wall, and just like that… “Nine,” Stella gasped, pushing Scully away as her core clenched desperately against the emptiness left behind. “Oh, I definitely like you like this,” Scully said, eyes burning hot as they raked over Stella’s body, scorching her everywhere they touched. It was all she could do not to bring her hand between her thighs and let Scully watch as she fucked herself right over the edge. Instead, she pounced, hands gripping Scully’s hips as she evened the score. She held nothing back, nipping and sucking at Scully’s clit as she pushed two fingers inside her, followed quickly by a third. She showed no mercy, working Scully hard and fast, dimly aware that she wasn’t even trying to slow Stella down this time. Scully came in a wet rush, her pussy clenching around Stella’s fingers as her body shook and her hips bucked, followed by a long, low cry of relief. Stella rolled to the side, one hand already between her legs, fucking herself as hard as she’d just fucked Scully. “Wait,” Scully gasped, rising unsteadily as a smile stretched her cheeks. “No,” Stella protested, even as her hand stilled. She could wait. She could keep this up as long as Scully wanted to play. But she was ready to come. Her body shook with the effort not to. “I won fair and square. Twice.” “Yes, you did.” Scully planted a hot kiss against her lips. “And you deserve to be rewarded properly for your efforts.” “Do I?” she asked, one hand still pressed firmly between her legs but not moving, holding herself on the brink of release. “Yes,” Scully said with a brisk nod. “Hands off.” Stella complied, desperately curious as to what Scully had in mind. She steadied her breathing, trying to relax, pushing back her need so that she’d last long enough to properly enjoy her reward, whatever it was. Scully scooted to the edge of the bed and opened the drawer where they kept their toys. A fresh wave of arousal rushed through Stella, and she pressed her thighs together. As she watched, Scully took out the hot pink strap-on that was possibly Stella’s favorite possession. Scully slipped into the harness before turning to face Stella, pink cock jutting in her direction, and she couldn’t help it. She moaned. If it was possible to come from anticipation alone, this would be the moment. Scully squirted lube onto one palm and slicked it over the cock, warming it beneath her palms with long, sweeping strokes while Stella clenched her fists in the sheet to keep from touching herself. She ached to be filled, desperation making her weak. “Ready?” Scully asked as she crawled onto the bed, and Stella nodded, thighs parting in anticipation. “You’re so wet for me, Stella,” Scully said as she allowed the head of the cock to brush against Stella’s entrance. “Mm,” she agreed, gripping Scully’s ass, pulling her closer. “Impatient, are we?” Scully quipped, rocking her hips so that the head of the cock slipped inside Stella. She whimpered, too far gone to argue. Scully pressed forward, testing Stella as her body adjusted to the toy before she drew back and slid home, filling Stella completely. She moaned in relief, falling back against the mattress as Scully straddled her, thrusting into her hard and fast, just the way Stella liked. Scully reached between them, stroking Stella’s clit in time with the movement of her hips, and Stella was done for. Her eyes fell shut as she rocked up to meet Scully, barely able to breathe past the need rising inside her, throbbing in her core, building hotter and stronger with each thrust until she thought she might burst from the power of it. “More,” she gasped. Scully picked up the pace, pounding into her as her fingers circled Stella’s clit, harder, faster, and then she was coming, arching off the bed with a moan as the orgasm rushed through her, leaving her hot and tingly in its wake. She lay there, gasping for breath, still impossibly aroused by the feel of the cock inside her and the woman on top of her. Scully paused, allowing Stella a moment to catch her breath before she resumed her movements, this time tilting her hips so that the head of the cock rubbed against Stella’s G-spot on every stroke. She swore as need rose inside her again, impossible stronger and more urgent than before, so intense she could only writhe and swear beneath Scully as she carried Stella swiftly toward a second orgasm. “Come for me,” Scully whispered, and Stella did. Her core ignited with release, pulsing through her with such an intensity, she almost thought she was having an out of body experience. A high, keening cry tore from her throat as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her. It kept coming, she kept coming, as her body released all the tension she’d built up during their game. When she regained her senses, she was limp and shaky, her body covered in sweat, her pussy still tingling with aftershocks of pleasure. “Wow,” Scully whispered. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you come that hard.” Rather than answering, Stella pulled her in for a deep, drunken kiss. She wasn’t entirely sure she could form words just yet, let alone move, so she just lay there, panting for breath, as Scully climbed off the bed and went into the bathroom to clean their toy. She returned a few minutes later and tucked the dildo back into its drawer before sliding into bed, a pink cloth in her hands. She pressed it against Stella’s flushed face. The cloth was warm and damp, and it felt so good as Scully gently wiped the sweat from her skin. She worked her way down Stella’s body, washing away sweat and sex. When she’d finished, she tossed the cloth toward the bathroom and crawled in beside Stella, one arm thrown over her stomach. They lay like that for a while, both of them calm and sated. Scully’s fingers traced lazy patterns on Stella’s skin. “We’ll have a lovely honeymoon here in London when this is over,” she said softly without a trace of disappointment in her tone, true to her word. Stella looked down at the gold band on her finger. She tightened her arms protectively around Scully as teared pooled in her eyes. Despite their self-isolation, what if the virus managed to penetrate their home? What if something happened to Scully? Stella couldn’t bear the thought. Scully closed her eyes, resting peacefully in Stella’s arms. Was she daydreaming about their honeymoon? Stella tried to imagine it, but she found herself picturing Scully sipping champagne on the Eiffel Tower, eating pastries at a sidewalk café, spouting scientific details as Stella showed her magnificent stained glass in Saint Chappelle and Notre Dame, so much stained glass it would take her breath away. If they survived this—when they survived this—how could Stella possibly deny her the honeymoon of her dreams? How could she deny either of them that chance? She held Scully tightly, burying her face in the floral-scented depths of Scully’s hair. “But not as lovely as Paris.” Scully pulled back to give her a baffled look. “You were right,” Stella whispered. “We should go to Paris.” Scully beamed at her with a joy so pure, it warmed even the darkest, most fearful parts of Stella’s heart. “Really?” “Really.” She drew in a breath. “But it will be a while before we can go, Dana, and I don’t—” “I know.” Scully brought their lips together for a gentle kiss. “It took us twenty years to get married. However long we have to wait for our honeymoon, it will be worth it.” Stella nodded as a tear slipped over her cheek, knowing in her heart that it was true.

[fullmetalscullyy]

a conspiracy theory - chapter 9

co-written by @snowdog49 and @jeanhaavoc

summary:  Detective Roy takes on a challenging task… To find Olivier Armstrong’s sword. However, he has a beautiful woman to distract him along the way. Will he, Jean, and Ed be able to find the sword in time, or will they succumb to the conspiracy?

warning: graphic depictions of violence

tags: conspiracy, pining, unresolved sexual tension, private detective au, royai, havolina, mystery, violence, modern au, coffee shops

rated: m | words: 3644

read on ao3

Edward had been a bit miffed about being pulled from garbage digging duty, but agreed to set something up with Ling. Roy didn’t care, he was finally making a little progress and would deal with any annoying comments that came his way later. He had his own work to do anyway.

The Bradley Estate was just as impressive as the Armstrong’s from the outside. It reached tall into the sky, boasting three floors, with tall, but thin windows, only two panes wide, stretching in between them. Each of the drapes inside were tied perfectly in unison, making Roy wonder how long that took to do in the morning. It looked square in shape, the corners of the house were built like towers, each part rising a little higher than the rest of the building. The large rough stones were grey, which Roy was honestly surprised wasn’t gold. It reminded him of a prison.

A doorman greeted Roy as he arrived at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the house, asking to provide proof of identity and stating his business at the estate today. He was dressed in a black suit, with a bright white shirt shining from underneath the rich, dark fabric. His black bowtie was held close to his neck, tied and presented perfectly. Roy snickered to himself. The Armstrong’s doorman was not only more polite but far better dressed.

“I’ve come to meet with Mr. Bradley,” Roy explained. “I called earlier and set up a meeting.”

“Very well, Sir,” the doorman nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind waiting one moment?”

“Yes, of course.”

The doorman disappeared inside, holding the door open so that a different man who was similarly dressed could take his place. He nodded in greeting to Roy, bidding him a good morning, before turning to stare straight ahead. He would get no kind of conversation from his new companion, so Roy descended the steps to look around the front of the house. He admired the front of the building and the gardens, picking out differences and similarities between it and the Armstrong Family’s Manor. There was no real interest in it, Roy just used the game to pass the time.

“If you would come with me, Sir,” the initial doorman beckoned after the door had opened.

Turning, Roy obediently followed after the man. They walked into the Bradley home and the main room was large, the walls arching upwards to a window on the ceiling. There was no chandelier, but there was a large mural painted on the ceiling instead. A lot of gold colours and light shades had been used, giving the illusion that it was bigger than it actually was. Jean and Rebecca had said everything was gold at the dinner too. Bradley obviously loved his work so much that he brought it home with him.

On the opposite wall from the main entrance, Roy was surprised to see another set of open doors which led out into a courtyard beyond. Stone canopies covered the walkway by the house, but in the center was a fountain and a stretch of green grass, all the way to a door on the other side. With a quick glance, Roy noted there was a door on the wall of each cardinal direction. Dotted within the grass were flower beds that were bursting with colour. Not just gold, Roy almost snickered. Trees and hedgerows were also in uniform along the lawn, cut to perfection. There were gardeners currently working on them.

The doorman led Roy up the stairs before him. His feet felt well cushioned by the thick green carpet below him. There were two paintings on the plain beige walls of the stairway, both in the corner as the stairs turned up to the left. It appeared the decoration was uniform within the house, because the same beige wallpaper and green carpet greeted Roy as they reached the top of the stairway and turned to the right.

“Mr. Bradley, Sir,” the doorman announced after knocking on a dark oak door they’d stopped in front of. “I have Mr. Mustang here to see you.”

“Send him in.”

Stepping inside was more of the same boring decor but this was clearly Bradley’s main study. The room was much bigger than Roy anticipated. The door opened to face Bradley’s desk, which was in the center of the room. Behind him were two large windows, the desk positioned in a way that meant the piece of furniture and the windows matched up perfectly in place. Two glass cabinets were symmetrically placed behind his desk, showing off two different framed photos on their top-shelf. One was clearly Bradley as a younger man, with a man who was probably Bradley's father. Another was Bradley standing, stony-faced, outside a factory. There were whiskey glasses filling the bottom shelf, two in each cabinet, with a decanter next to them as well. The walls were decorated with land deeds and his achievements. There were more pictures hung up, but it was of each of Bradley’s factories. He had a lot more than Roy thought.

“Good morning, Detective Mustang,” Bradley greeted. He was a robust man, one eye patched from what he always said as a childhood accident. Square shoulders reminded Roy of the strength of his company, while Bradley’s mustache was perfectly formed and cut over his lip, like his well-trimmed grass out front. His smile, however, seemed earnest, and his voice almost bubbled with a chuckle as he talked. His face relaxed, calm, and Roy would have guessed he was soft handed in his business as well when there were little big businessmen who were concerning of their employees. Roy, though, knew better. He rose from his desk and rounded it in a leisurely manner to shake Roy’s hand. A firm, unyielding handshake that would normally intimidate a normal man, but Roy eagerly accepted with his own. Bradley then led him to his desk, placing some papers to the side before leaning forward on his forearms while Roy sat on one of the chairs before him. “How can I help you today?”

He leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. “I’m sure you know already that I’ve been hired to help Olivier Armstrong find her stolen sword.”

Bradley nodded, mimicking Roy’s posture. “I have. I’m assuming you’ve had little luck since you’re here.”

Roy chuckled. “Yes, well, it was your son’s birthday party.”

Bradley folded his arms and nodded as he started to look like he was thinking. “I honestly was so distracted as I was trying to be a gracious host. My wife was feeling a bit ill and I was finding myself compensating to make sure she was not overwhelmed.” He turned his chair to look at one of the scenery paintings on his wall. It was a luscious forest, following hills, and a perfectly placed buck in the center. “I remember Olivier having her saber. She usually holsters it on her hip.”

“Do you remember her taking it off?”

Bradley nodded. “Yes. She leaned it against the wall when she sat down. That was most unusual of her. But she got up to talk to Senator Marcoh and didn’t retrieve it. I looked over to see it still sitting there.”

“You didn’t bother to let her know or to retrieve it for her?” Roy raised an eyebrow, pulling out his notebook.

“Oh,” Bradley laughed. “No, no! No one touches her sword. It’s a family heirloom. God forbid if it went missing.”

“Yes,” Roy chuckled. “As I’m finding out.” Roy jotted down a few words. He wasn’t writing anything down in particular, but wanted to look like he was. “And you didn’t see anyone suspicious at the party?”

Bradley shook his head, eyes meeting Roy’s. “No. Everyone there had an invitation. I was very strict about it for security purposes.” He waved his finger in the air as he realized something. “There was that Ling Yao kid. I know that it was encouraged that he came, but I was adamant about no one without an invitation.”

“And everyone there was well known?”

“All reputable people. The fact that the sword is missing is alarming on my behalf too. Someone there was not trustworthy and that bothers me. There was someone as low as a thief at the party.” He rubbed his chin, looking back at the painting. “I was even careful to look at my own inventory.” He chuckled. “My wife would’ve had a heart attack if someone had stolen the silverware. It’s real silver, you know.”

“Why didn’t you contact me with this information?”

Bradley hummed for a second. “I knew you’d come to me.”

Roy fake laughed, nodding in understanding when in reality the comment bothered him. Still, he wasn’t the police, so there was no obstruction there. After looking up from his notebook, he made a show of the painting catching his eye. He turned his head, looking at the room more closely. “You sure know how to decorate. I will have to hire your decorator for my office.”

Bradley laughed again, eye eyes squinting to show crows feet of age and stress. “I’m afraid my wife does most of that.”

He made a quick sweep of Bradley’s desk to see a familiar emblem on his papers. “I don’t have such paintings either,” he huffed. Another quick look to ensure he had a golden ring, and he did, with a familiar emblem. In the center was the Amestrian dragon, however, it was an older design, one Roy hadn’t seen for years, with much more jagged edges and only one arm on show. Behind the dragon were two swords. Very simple, but it had to be in order for it to fit on something as small as a ring. “That’s a nice ring,” Roy complimented. “I notice the logo matches that of the Armstong’s sword.”

Bradley took a quick look at it before unfolding his arms and putting them in his lap, out of view behind the desk. “Ah,” he nodded slowly. “Yes.” Roy didn’t expect him to admit to there being a secret club but was curious to his excuse. “The Armstrong family is generous. Years ago, my father was very close to the family. He worked for them for some time, and as a gift, they gave him a ring with the national crest at the time on it.”

Roy withheld himself from squinting.

Bradley looked at the ring again. “It’s a sign of trust between the families.”

“Is that ring cast from the same gold your family mines?” Roy asked innocently.

“It was, yes,” Bradley smirked to himself. “The mine was my grandfather’s, then my father’s. It’s very dear to my family. We’ve worked hard to get where we are today. We could not be more thankful. It’s humbling in a way when you realize that you can come from nothing to something.”

Roy stood up and put his notebook in his pocket. “I didn’t want to waste your time. I just wanted to come by and introduce myself. I don’t get to meet too many tycoons.”

Bradley laughed generously. “Tycoon? Hardly.” Bradley circled the desk, gesturing for Roy to walk to the door before him. “I will walk you out.” He opened the door, waving Roy through. “I’m sure you will find the sword.”

Roy did raise his eyebrow and looked at Bradley from the corner of his eye. “Just because I have to ask. You don’t happen to have it, do you?”

Bradley gave another loud laugh. “No, no. I don’t. I wonder if one of my staff picked it up for safekeeping and I wasn’t made aware of it.” He cocked his head in thought, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. They started to descend down the stairs. “I promise to ask them and if I find it, I will promptly return it to the Armstrongs.”

It’d been a month since the sword had been missing, and he was now asking his staff? Roy snorted a laugh. “Well, at least let me know so I can stop pestering my employees about asking the whole damn city.” They came to the front doors where Bradley stopped and Roy walked out. “It was an honor meeting you,” Roy turned to shake his hand again.

“Likewise,” King Bradley nodded, taking his hand. “I’ll be sure to call you when I lose something next.”

Roy smiled but knew it was a jest against him. After all, Roy wasn’t trying to be the guy to call when things went missing. Bradley would know that. He couldn’t be sure, but it felt like Bradley’s eyes were still on him as he walked to his car.

Roy looked at his watch on his wrist before getting in his car. Ed should be playing video games with Ling right about now and he wouldn’t hear from him until later, maybe even tomorrow. Roy started his car and put it into drive. There were still so many questions, and the one at the forefront, begging to be answered, was: why? There was always why. If there was this association that Ed accused them all of being in, then the sword had something to do with it.

*           *           *

“Well?” Jean asked as Roy walked in the door.

“The dude loves gold,” Roy muttered.

“In his home too?” Rebecca asked eagerly. She appeared to be fascinated with the subject.

“Decor was very boring,” Roy revealed, still surprised about that. “But the gold flowers from your night out gallivanting made a return.”

“I wonder if they kept them from the dinner?” she snickered.

“I would hope so,” Jean remarked. “Or at least put them to good use. There was a ridiculous amount there. What a waste,” he scowled.

“I think a man like King Bradley has flower waste way down on his list of priorities,” Roy scoffed.

“He’s a bit of a dodgy dude, isn’t he?” Rebecca’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “He just makes me feel… iffy.”

“I thought that too, at the dinner,” Jean added. “If all those people were there to chip in money for something he could easily pay for, you’d think the guy wouldn't walk around with a face like thunder.”

“Bradley has never struck me as the most ethical person in the world,” Roy replied with a frown. “I don’t like him,” he muttered. “Too… smarmy. And smug. He had pretty clear excuses, looking almost as if he practiced talking about it.”

“Could be a strong contender then for a suspect,” Jean offered. He sat back in his chair, tipping it back, with an ankle hooked over his knee. He fiddled with the pen in his hands.

“He really could be,” Roy replied seriously. He spun to face his board.

“So what happened?” Rebecca asked. “What did he say?”

“He said he remembered her having it, and remembered it being dropped. Didn’t have a suspect.” Roy sat down in his own chair and sighed loudly. “He’s only now going to ask his staff if they saw it. It’s been so long now though that I don’t imagine he’ll get very far. If any of them did take it, they could blatantly play the forgetful card.” Roy’s eyes flicked down to the ring he could just see on Bradley’s finger in his photograph. “He had the ring though.”

Jean chuckled. “I’m not sure how this pertains to the sword.”

“Because the sword has it,” Rebecca answered quickly. “The question is how it pertains to it being stolen.”

Roy pointed to her with a finger gun. “Exactly. But what do you want to bet that either a member stole it, or someone who wants to be a member stole it? I mean, what would it matter? What’s so important that it needed to be stolen?”

“It would all depend on the Armstrong’s tie in this. You said Bradley’s ring was a gift?” Jean asked. Roy nodded. “So, if it was a gift from a father to another, that means the families have been tied together for years. If this organization is real, it would be safe to consider that one of them was a founder?” Jean asked.

Roy nodded. “We’d need to confirm that.”

Jean rubbed his chin. But before he could say anything, the door swung open with enough force to bounce off the back wall. In the doorway, Ed stood with his hands on his hip, standing like he had just single-handedly held off the Drachman army. “Guess who was right about the conspiracy?” he announced with a shit-eating grin.

All three of them looked at each other before Jean answered, “You?”

Ed leaned against the wall, crossing his arm, not losing that stupid grin. “Ling totally confirmed it.”

Jean looked at Roy with a chuckle. “This is why they won’t let him into the club. He’s too young to know when to keep his mouth shut.”

“Look,” Ed glared. “We were playing video games and I asked him about it.”

“Just like that?” Roy leaned back and crossed his arms.

“Yeah. He said they are called the Gatekeepers.”

Rebecca, Jean, and Roy looked at each other.

“Ling told me they’re some sort of secret organization, just as I said.”

Roy rolled his wrist to avoid the bragging and continue the talking.

“He said they meet once a month and talk about ‘man stuff,’ but said all the influential people go there.”

“Like who?”

Ed held up his fingers as he counted. “Our friend Senator Raven for one. Then there’s Senator Marcoh. He did say the Armstrong family has been there for years and he was surprised that they didn’t hold any offices. He also confirmed King Bradley was in it.” Ed raised another finger. “President Grumman…” He began to count off members that he remembered.

Roy rubbed his chin and turned back to the pictures. Ed kept naming off people, but Roy didn’t pay any mind. He’d have him write up a report.

“Roy,” Ed said firmly, getting Roy’s attention back. “We know why the sword is so important. Do you think that they stole it?”

“Or someone wants in,” Jean mumbled. “But, they’d know if they were a member, right?”

Roy shrugged.

“Anyone with the crest can get in. I told Ling the sword had it on it, and he said now he wanted in so that he could attend the meeting.” Ed moved to his desk. “I think they can have proxies or something.”

Roy nodded, still taking in the fact Ed was right. “So who wants in, then?”

“We need to find out who was at the birthday party and was not a member,” Jean answered.

Rebecca and Ed nodded.

“I did find out that the building I said was their meeting point was owned by the Armstrongs.” Ed grinned. “And I checked the power meter and it’s getting power. It’s being used for something.”

“Any bills?” Jean asked.

Ed shook his head. “There were police about. I did check my phone. There was WiFi there. But it’s got a password.”

“Did you try Gatekeeper123?” Roy chuckled at his own joke.

Ed stared flat-faced at his mentor.

“So,” Rebecca interrupted them. “It’s owned by the Armstrong family, has WiFi, and gets power.”

Ed nodded. “So, we just need to go there and watch them go in next week.”

“That’s what I do,” Jean grinned. Roy watched as excitement lit up his face like a Christmas tree.

“Let's focus on the sword guys.” Roy stood up and pointed at the pictures. “Let’s go over the suspects. Are we missing anyone?”

Rebecca, Jean, and Edward looked at each other and shook their heads.

“Ed, can you write a report? Let’s get this down on paper before we all forget, or the thought gets lost.”

He nodded and woke his computer up with a shake of the mouse. “Ling said that he was totally in on this and would be willing to do more reconnaissance for us.”

Jean’s eyes grew twice their size. “You can’t just be open about what we’re doing! You have to interview, not give information away!”

“Remember your comment about kids being too young,” Roy laughed. He turned to the youngest member of the group. “What do you think you two can do?”

Ed shrugged. “I told him that I’d let him know.”

Roy nodded and bit his lip. “I don’t think we need everyone we meet involved.”

“Yeah,” Jean quickly agreed. “If they’re onto us, they might kill us.” He gulped.

“They aren’t going to kill us,” Roy chuckled. “We just want to get her sword back.”

“Well… We can ask Ling to get it if it’s in an office. I bet he’d do it.”

The team looked back at Ed.

“I don’t know, “he shrugged. “How does one normally get a stolen item back?”

Roy grumped. “I suppose we can call the police, but it seems that Ms. Armstrong wanted to keep this quiet for reasons.”

“How do we expect to get it?” Jean scratched his head. “We can’t just walk in.”

“And we can’t just steal it back,” Rebecca added. “We’re a reputable business, remember?”

Roy nodded. “I can just tell Olivier who it is. She alone could take them on.” He laughed nervously. “I guess we can threaten police actions, try to give them the option of avoiding lawful convictions.”

“Taking down a secret organization? Stealing swords? Exposing officials? I’m totally in.” Ed rubbed his hands together eagerly before turning back to his computer. “I love this job already.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Jean quickly advised. “Most of the time we just sit around and play poker and drink coffee.”

Maybe this was the case that Roy had been looking for. Maybe this was going to be the one to build his reputation to where he wasn’t just some private investigator. Maybe...

[barnestruck]

her name

(gif creds to owner)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader (high school!au)

summary: in which bucky admits his feelings for you...to his mom.

word count: 1.9k, yep just a wee bit longer than the last one :)

warnings: fluff once again bc i was crying a lot earlier while reading angsty fics and i wanna feel happy again! Also haha snuck some aladdin lines in there too ;)

a/n: i really didn’t intend to make this like a “her ___” thing but i’m down for it. i’m writing this to pass the time bc i’m waiting for my friend who lives in korea to be free so we can talk. also, wow! “her laugh” was really well received! thanks friends :) feel free to leave any feedback you may have for me! [oh, i mention some things about how the anglican church began in a funny way, i’m not trying to offend anyone’s religion so plz don’t take it that way]

-

History was hands down your favorite subject. Something about analyzing past civilizations was so fascinating to you. To think that the things you read about in textbooks actually happened was mind-boggling but also really amusing. There was a guy, a king for that matter, that wanted a divorce so badly that he created an entirely new church in the process of separating from his wife, who he also proceeded to decapitate (okay, maybe that part wasn’t so funny).

You looked forward to your history class every day because of your love for its engaging and rigorous curriculum...for the most part. A small part of you also excitedly anticipated the conversations you would have with the cute guy who sat behind you. Bucky Barnes. The quarterback of your school’s football team but also president of the Science Olympiad club. Could he get any more perfect? Apparently, yes. Not only was he a skilled athlete and an intelligent student, but he was simply a good guy. Surprisingly, that was hard to come by at your school. Guys would either brag about their perfect SAT scores or about all the sweet girls they cut off. Bucky wasn’t like that. He was so far from that. Whenever he caught you in the halls, he’d shoot you a smile or a wave and sometimes he’d even offer to walk you to your next class despite your protests that he would be tardy.

A poke on your shoulder snapped you out of your daydream. You turned around to meet the glorious blue eyes of the person that was the focus of said daydream.

“Hey, sorry (Y/N), but that pretty little head of yours is blocking the board,” he whispered, afraid of getting called out by your teacher. His compliment brought an intense blush to your face that you would not let him see. You muttered a quick “sorry” before scooting over and turning your head back around to prevent him from noticing the redness of your face. You tried your best to suppress your thoughts about your little crush and focused your attention on your teacher.

“Alright class, now that we’re beginning our study of the 20th century, I’m rolling out a project in which you and your choice of a partner will do research on the most important political, economic and social aspects of a decade that I’ll be assigned to you.” 

Great, you thought. You weren’t really close with anyone in your history class except for Bucky. All your other friends were in the class period after you. You knew Bucky was gonna pair up with Dot, the head cheerleader who had been pining over him since she found out he was the quarterback. She was nice, you just knew you couldn’t compete with her for Bucky’s affections. Not that you really forced yourself to. You didn’t need a boyfriend, especially not now. You prioritized your studies so you could get into your dream school, not getting a man. But...that didn’t mean you were against one. A significant other wasn’t necessary for you but...you saw it as a welcome addition to your life.

Your teacher announced that students were allowed to move out of their seats to find partners. You stood up and anxiously surveyed your options. Bucky was out of the picture. Maybe his friend Steve? No, you knew he was gonna pair up with his girl Peggy. Scott Lang? No, he’d be a fun partner but you knew it would be really hard to get him to avoid procrastinating. Wanda? That could work. You didn’t know her that well but who knows? Maybe you’d gain a new friend after this project. But as you were approaching her, the president of Academic League, Viz had beat you to it. Fuck, now what?

Just as all hope seemed to be lost, you felt a familiar poke on your shoulder. You turned again to meet the same eyes you had looked into just minutes before.

Bucky sent you a friendly smile as he asked, “Got a partner, yet?” with his hands scrunching in his pockets, almost nervously?

Words almost failed you but you managed to let out a little, “Nope”. He smiled at that. Nodding, he replied, “Cool”. Huh, maybe he wasn’t out of the picture.

~

You and Bucky had been assigned to study the 1940’s and the both of you were currently on your way to his house to get a head start on the project.

“You can have control of the AUX cord if you want, it’s gonna take a while to get to my place,” Bucky offered as you got into his car.

“Oh, I don’t know, you might judge me for my music taste,” you said shyly.

He let out a playful scoff. “No way, you’ll be fine...as long as you don’t play like Jake Paul or some shit.” You giggled at that. “Oh, I’d never do that to you.” You ended up playing some 80’s songs that you were currently into. Bucky seemed to enjoy it, even opting to quietly sing along.

He pulled into his driveway, stopped the car and quickly got out to open your door for you. You smiled at him for the chivalrous gesture. Before he unlocked the front door, he turned to you instead, “I didn’t mention this earlier but I’d just like to apologize for my mom and sister in advance. They can be a lot sometimes.” You softly shook your head. “Oh that’s fine, I’m sure they’re fine.”

With that, he let you in first before yelling, “Ma! Becks! I’m home!” You heard, “Ok honey, in the kitchen! Have a snack before starting homework!” in reply. You followed Bucky into the kitchen; you leaned against the wall as he walked towards a middle-aged woman, his mom, standing in front of the sink with her back facing you. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and said, “Hey ma, I’m gonna be working on a project with (Y/N) for a bit, I’m gonna get some snacks for her too.”

“Who?” his mother asked. She looked around the room to find the person in question, aka you. When her eyes settled upon you, she jumped a bit and remarked, “Oh, I’m sorry dear, James didn’t mention that he’d have someone over.” As she got a better look at you, she—not so subtely—whispered to Bucky, “Ooh, she’s really pretty Jamie.” Shock overtook his features, prompting him to softly nudge his mothers. He coughed to mask his embarrassment. “What my beautiful mother means is,” he began, “she’ll have snacks ready for us soon so we should just start working.”

He quickly lead to you to the study, away from the kitchen where his smirking mother stood preparing cookies for the both of you. A younger girl was already seated in the study when you approached it.

“Becca, can you study in your room upstairs, I need to work on a project,” said Bucky.

The little girl, Becca, looked up from her notebook with a sassy look and retorted, “Why don’t you work on your project in your room? I got here first.”

Bucky let out an exasperated sigh. “Because, (Y/N) and I need a lot of space to work on this.”

Becca cocked an eyebrow towards her brother’s direction. “You mean you need a lot of space so you can make out with your girlfriend?”

You wished with everything else in your being that you could’ve turned invisible. You tried to sound confident to defend yourself but your words came out as stutters. “Oh! W-we’re not d-dating. We’re just p-partners.” Becca turned to you with a suspicious look on her face. She started you down for a few second before shrugging.

“Ok, whatever you say. Just call me over when you’re done so I can use this room after.”

Bucky graciously looked to his sister. “Will do, thanks Becks.”

After she retreated to her room, Bucky turned to you. “Like I said, they can be a lot.” With that, you began working on your project.

~

You and Bucky worked for about 3 hours with short small talk breaks in between before calling it a night.

“Alright, thanks for offering to use your place today. We could work at mine next time, or maybe the library so it isn’t that much trouble to you?” You suggested.

“No it’s alright,” he said. “I like having you here.” His remark brought a similar blush that graced your features earlier that day. You bashfully looked away from him and let out a soft laugh.

“Okay...I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Tell your mom I’m really grateful for her hospitality.” He nodded. With that goodbye, you began your journey home. Turns out, you only lived down the street from Bucky. He had offered to walk you home, but you resisted saying that he had already done so much for you that day.

He made his way back into his house and the kitchen, where he sat on in a seat by the island and buried his face in his hands.

“She seems like a nice girl, James,” his mom said. He removed his hands from his face and moved them to hold his chin.

“Yeah...she really is,” he responded with a blissful smile and gentle look in his eyes. His mother grinned at his obvious infatuation with the girl.

“Do you like her?” his mother teased.

Bucky’s brows furrowed as he replied, “No mom, (Y/N) and I are just friends, we aren’t together.”

His mom sent him a sly smirk, “I never mentioned her name, Jamie.”

He looked confused at first but then he realized his mistake. “Shit.”

She nudged him with her elbow. “Hey, don’t you use that language around me young man.”

Bucky simply groaned and buried his face in his hands once again. “It’s okay Jamie, you can tell me. You can tell me anything, you know that.”

He let out a lovestruck sigh. “I don’t know what it is about her ma. She’s smart, a-and fun.”

“You think she’s pretty?” she asked.

“Beautiful!” he answered almost instantaneously. “She’s got these eyes...a-and this hair! Oh, and her smile?” he let out a helpless sigh. “I could go on and on about her smile.”

Bucky’s mom was really happy seeing her son like this. He’d been through a lot at a young age, losing his father and having to take on the father/big brother role for Becca was tough for him. He never prioritized himself, he put his mom and sister first. They were the ones he cared about most and he did everything in his power to make sure they were happy. That meant he had to sacrifice his own desires to ensure that his family got theirs. But it was Bucky’s turn to be happy now.

“If that’s the case, then you go on and tell her that,” his mother said.

“But—” Bucky began to protest but changed his mind. His look of concern was replaced with one of determination. “You know, I will do that. Tomorrow, I’ll tell her. Maybe I should buy her flowers to make it really sweet? Or no, maybe that actually might be too much...Or I could just be really casual with it and just approach her at her locker? No, I don’t want to make it look like I don’t really care...Or maybe…” Bucky mumbled off thoughts to himself as he left the kitchen to his room.

Bucky’s mother looked after him as he walked away thinking about how grateful she was that you had made your way into Bucky’s heart.

[ahiddenpath]

My Favorite Writing Stuff

One of the best things about writing is that all you need is a pen and paper!  But we all have our favorite tools and luxuries, and I thought it might be fun to talk about mine below the cut.  Lotsa pics, long post.

Word Processors

Scrivener

The single writing item I use most is my word processor, Scrivener, by Literature and Latte.  At some point waaaaaay back in 2012, I found myself writing Growing Up with You in Microsoft Word...  And having to wait ten seconds for the screen to adjust and load new text as I scrolled.  It was just too danged long for the program to handle.  Just reading my manuscript was a nightmare, let alone copying and pasting to move text, shuffle paragraphs, etc.  Making a new doc for each chapter quickly became a clunky chore.

THEN I FOUND SCRIVENER, AND IT’S THE BEST.

Scrivener is... not very user friendly; there’s definitely a learning curve.  But it was immediately so much better for writing long fiction than Word that I bought a book on the program and read it from cover to cover, which...  I don’t think I’ve ever done before.  That’s how much of a game changer this was.

The feature I rely on most is the binder.

This is the binder for Four Years, which currently has...  Forty-eight chapters.  I corralled the chapters into two folders, one for the first year of college (1), and one for the second (2).  

If I click folder 1, all of the chapters appear, each snug in their own folder.  Once the Scrivener file loads, there is no further loading time.  Each folder can be moved by clicking and dragging, as can each text file inside each folder.  FREEDOM!

This feature alone was worth the price of the program.  They offer a free trial, so please check it out if you’re interested!

Portable Word Processors

I’ve mentioned these before, but I have two portable gadgets that allow me to write on the go, distraction free.

Alpha Smart Neo 2

This might look like the baby of a toddler’s toy computer and a keyboard, but it’s actually my baby.

Just kidding!  Sort of!  The Alpha Smart Neo 2 is a portable word processor that boots up in a second, is powered by three AA batteries for eons, and weighs about 2 pounds.  They are no longer in production (which is a crime), but there are oodles available on Ebay for about $20-30.  

(I used to own and talk about my Alpha Smart 3000.  The Alpha Smart Neo 2 is the latest model before the company shut down, and the keyboard is nicer; it’s quieter and easier on the fingers).

I honestly can’t say enough about this device.  I rarely draft on a computer anymore; it’s just too easy to find yourself surfing the web, falling down a research vortex, or even reading your manuscript instead of writing.  Alpha Smarts can remember what you wrote until you delete it.  That’s it.  That’s all they do.  It’s beautiful.

I write about 800 words/hr on a computer.  I write about 1,500 words/hr on an Alpha Smart.  Distractions are so, so real.

When you’re ready to port your writing from your Alpha Smart to your word processor, all you have to do is connect a printer cable to your Alpha Smart, then plug the usb end into your computer.  Open your word processor, turn on your Alpha Smart, select the file you want to transfer, and hit send.  If you forget any of this, it’s written on the back of the Alpha Smart.

I know that no one should blame their success or failure on their tools, but...  I wouldn’t be able to write nearly as much without my Alpha Smart.  And if you ever do writing meet ups, you’ll be the only person who isn’t fighting for a power outlet!  It also fits easily into a tote bag or backpack.

Oh, Alpha Smart Neo 2.  My partner and friend!

Freewrite

The Freewrite by Astrohaus is... um.  Well, it’s a lot like the Alpha Smart Neo 2, except that it’s waaaay more expensive, much harder to use, and has terrible firmware.

There are cool things about it, for sure!  For one, it has this weird...  Pseudo typewriter feel.  It’s much larger and heavier than an Alpha Smart, and I’m not sure that I actually consider it portable...  But the thick, angled base practically functions as a lap desk.  It’s comfortable to use and has a nice mechanical keyboard.

It has wifi capability, so you can send drafts directly to your dropbox/cloud/email, no cords or transfers needed.  The screen is an e-ink scree, like a Kindle Paperwhite, easy on the eyes and readable in the sun.  It’s also backlit, which is the one major win over the Alpha Smart.

I bought mine used off ebay for a fraction of the list price (this thing is NOT worth $600 on any planet, goodness gracious mercy dang!  I paid about $180), and, um...  I still don’t know if it was worth it, not when I can buy an Alpha Smart Neo 2 for $30 tops.  I mean, I like the e-ink and the backlit screen, but...  There’s a lag between typing and the words populating on the screen.  There are no arrows to fix a typo.  I had to send 10 emails back and forth to tech support to get it updated and working.  It was not broken, and I understood all the directions...  It’s just god awful firmware.  I also lost a draft because it wipes your device if you open their Sprinter program while using your Freewrite.  

I still use it, though!  The tactile sensation is really nice, the keys make a satisfying clickety clackety, the E-ink screen is lovely, I adore the option to write in a not-that-well-lit room, and the wifi transfer is faster than my Alpha Smart’s wired method.  But I still can’t recommend it as long as Alpha Smart Neo 2s are available, not unless you’re some combination of the following: a writing nut who writes so gosh dang much that these toys are worth it, someone who is big on tactile sensation, someone who likes hipster stuff, or someone who would love an Alpha Smart but can’t read the electronic screen well.  If this is you, make sure you also have a strong grasp on how to talk to and understand tech support, because you will need them.

Just never ever EVER open Sprinter...

Notebooks

Leuchtturm1917, hard cover, A5, dotted

MAY I INTRODUCE YOU TO MY LOVE, THE LEUCHTTURM NOTEBOOK.

WHERE DO I EVEN START.

The Leuchtturm is...  Just the best.  The hard cover takes abuse well, stickers hold onto it nicely, it has two ribbon bookmarks and an elastic closure, there’s a folder attached to the back inside cover...  The dot version is unobtrusive and encourages smaller writing, which helps the notebook last.  And it is available in a rainbow of colors!

The paper is lovely, the pages are numbered, and IT HAS AN INDEX.

I’m a scientist, and working in a Leuchtturm is just like working in a fancy, expensive lab notebook.  The set up is done already, man.  You just gotta jot down what pages contain what.  IT’S SO ORGANIZED, with almost zero effort!  Mi amor.

Sure, I could make an index page and number all of my pages manually...  But I’ve met myself.  I won’t do it.  When you combine all of these lovely features, you have one unbeatable notebook.

Plus, they’re easy to obtain in the states!  I order them off Amazon or buy them at my local Barnes & Nobles.

Midori MD Notebook, A5, grid

The Midori has even nicer quality paper than the Leuchtturm, but the cover can’t take abuse, and it lacks the nice features.  I truly appreciate the paper quality, but the other features bring me back to my Leuchtturms every time.

It’s a Japanese item and is more difficult to import to the states.  You can get them off Amazon, though!

Pens

I use Uni-ball Signo 207 gel pens.  They write comfortably, and using them feels satisfying.  They should be available in most Walmart/Target type stores, at least in the states!  

It should be noted that I’m just not a pen buff.  I tried fountain pens, and it was more trouble than it was worth for me.

Folios/Traveler’s Notebooks

Okay, so you found the perfect notebook!  Wanna make it SUPER DUPER FANCY PANTS?!  Well, you could try a traveler’s notebook.  

I only learned what a traveler’s notebook is about a year ago, so if you’re also in the dark...  It’s a leather cover that holds notebooks inside with elastic.  I own these chic sparrows, one for my Midori notebook (or whatever notebook I’m using at the time), and one for my journal.

My full name is etched into them, so please pardon my censorship XD

The chic sparrow traveler’s notebooks are so elegant and decadent and...  I won’t lie, I literally move one or both around the house with me, just so I can look at them.  

The one on the left is a Mr. Darcy deluxe, size A5, in the Wickham color.  The one on the right is an Enchanted Woods deluxe, size A5, in the Elderwood color.

They have lots of pockets on the inside, a pen loop, and elastics to hold multiple notebooks.  This one is strung with a Midori notebook.  I also have a smaller B6 one that I use as a wallet!  It holds a small notebook, so I can write down those ideas that always happen when I’m out and don’t have paper.  The pockets hold IDs, credit cards, and cash.

It’s just this... magical, opulent item.  While it’s likely the least practical thing on this list, it’s very special to me.

Lap Desks

I HAVE A HARRY POTTER RAVENCLAW STORAGE DESK FROM POTTERY BARN AND I FEEL LIKE A WITCH WHEN I USE IT.

Oh dear, I took a terrible picture, it looks so lovely in person.  

The top can slide in both directions, revealing enough storage for several A5 notebooks, pens, and more.  It’s a great way to cart your stuff into your favorite cozy nook for a writing session.  Plus, you’ll feel like a Hogwarts student!  It’s available in all four house designs, plus a Hogwarts crest version.

Pottery Barn puts these on sale occasionally.  I’d aim for 25% off before buying.

My Writing Bag

I decked out a tote bag in writing pins to carry my Alpha Smart, thesaurus, a notebook, and pens.  You can use any bag, as long as it accommodates what you need!  Here are my fave sources for writing-related pins:

Literary Emporium, who makes my favorite pin, “Still I Rise,” a Maya Angelou quote.  They have the most gorgeous pins.

When life gives you lemons, read them, advice for the ages

And fandom:

Digivice pin

My beloved Sailor Moon pin, the loveliest pin I’ve ever seen (not shown because it lives on my Sailor Moon jacket!).  All of the inner senshi are available!

THAT’S ALL, THAT WAS SO MUCH.  Please let me know if you try any of these out!

[lainaraquel]

Heart Like Yours

On her first day of U.A. Momo receives a strange letter from herself ten years in the future. She doesn’t think this letter could be real until the predictions are so accurate she can’t overlook them. Her 25-year-old self is asking her to help shape a better future and it starts with saving a hostile classmate from himself. 

 Based very loosely on the series Orange. 

Series: Boku No Hero Academia 

Chapter 01: Letter 01: The beginning of everything

Pairing: Bakumomo, Bakugou x Yaoyorozu. Slight Todomomo.

Rating: M (canon-divergent)

Word Count: 3,778  

AO3: x

A/N: I hope you like this! Thank you so much to @emeraldwaves for always encouraging me and pushing me to write this fic! I dedicate this first chapter to her. You can also find me at @creatiwrites  

The sun peeked in through her curtains gently waking the dark-haired girl from her slumber. There was nothing like a proper nights rest before her first day at the esteemed U.A. Even for a recommendation student like herself she couldn't shake the nerves that came over her. She would be training to become a pro-hero. It was her dream to use her quirk to help others and become a top hero. Everyone in her family was counting on her to keep the honor of the Yaoyorozu name and show the world what she was made of. She had been training extremely hard her whole life for this moment.

 She was quick to get ready making sure that the skirt of her uniform was perfectly pleated and her tie straight and tucked under the grey jacket. Her bag was packed with everything that she might need, new school supplies, water, snacks, and her notes that would help her until she got the costume that she had requested. Perfect, now she just needed to fix her hair and she would be ready for the day. Wearing it down was an option, but probably not a smart one. A school like U.A. didn't just do a presentation and then send everyone on their way. It wasn't like a regular high school and she had to be prepared.

 It made much more sense to wear her hair up and to keep it out of her face. She walked over to her vanity, surprised to see a present on laying there. It was wrapped in a light blue wrapping paper with a lavender bow tied around the box. The wrapping paper perfectly snug and not one wrinkle was present on the paper. She looked at the card that was snug underneath the ribbon. It had her name written on it. It would be just like her parents to leave some type of gift for her to celebrate her first day. Even though they could be strict with her training-- they did it because they wanted her to succeed. She glanced at the time placing the box off to the side. She had to finish getting ready and could not afford to be late or even on time. She had to set an example for her fellow classmates by arriving early.

 Momo tried her hair in several different styles. Ranging from a bun to a loose braid, before deciding that just up in a high ponytail would be the best. It was plain, but she didn't need to look dolled up to be a hero and that was the important thing. She grabbed her school bag ready to walk out the door when out of the corner of her eye she spotted the blue paper. Okay- just one second to open it so she could at least call her parents to tell them 'thank you' after school.

 She pulled gently on the lavender ribbon watching as it slowly cascaded down the side of the box. Her fingers eager to pull the lid off and see what it was that was inside. But first, the card. She pried it open and inside was just a little note that said

“Trust me and have a good first day.'

Her brows knitted together in confusion; What kind of message was that? It wasn't even signed with their names which was also extremely odd, but who else would have sent this gift? She put the card aside making a mental note to ask them about it later. That was when she saw it. It was a beautiful notebook that matched the same burgundy color of the costume she designed. It looked so sleek and almost different than the other ones she had. She wondered if perhaps they had it custom made for her. Her name was even embroidered on the cover of it in elegant script. She brought the notebook to her nose inhaling the scent of new pages. The smell of them never failed to make her heart swell. 

The sound of the horn honking shook her from her daze and she glanced at the clock."Ah!" she squealed, tossing the notebook and pen into her bag. She darted out of her room making her way towards the black Mercedes and apologizing to the driver for running behind.

 She could not afford to start off the year making a bad first impression.

The classroom was still empty when Yaoyorozu arrived and she sighed in relief. Good. Her classmates would know she was punctual and that they could depend on her. She found her seat all the way in the back as expected and began to get her things organized. She put her pen on the top corner of her desk, her eraser right next to it and a few spare pens should someone else have forgotten theirs. Finally, she put the burgundy notebook in the center of the desk. She was about to grab her book to read when a rather tall and stocky boy entered the room. 

"Ah! Yes, good morning fellow student!" he chimed hastily making his way toward her. "My name is Iida Tenya! I am from the Somei Private Academy and it is an honor to meet you."

 Before Momo even got the chance to say anything other students began to fall in. Soon the once quiet classroom was bustling with noise.Her fingers gently brushed along the edge of the notebook as she waited for the time to tick down. Maybe she could open up the page and start to organize her notes before class began. She pulled the little book open shocked to see that there was already writing it.

“Momo, turn the next page and don't let anyone see.”

It was scribbled in the center of the paper and her heart began to race. Why did this suddenly feel so ominous?

“Dear Yaomomo,

Are you nervous? Please, try not to be these are going to be the best years of your life.” 

A small smile crept onto her face upon reading that sentence, but the feeling didn’t last long as her eyes scanned the next set of words.

“I’m writing this letter to you from the future. It’s ten years from today on the dot.”

Ten years in the future?! Eh?!

“I know this seems completely impossible, but trust me, it is possible. And if I know you, which I do, you’re wracking your brain trying to figure out how-- but that isn’t the important part right now. In this notebook, I’m going to help you shape a better future. We have to change the choices you make in high school.”

April 5th:

The first day of term at U.A.

”The boy who introduced himself to you as Iida he will be arguing with another boy. His name is Bakugou. They’ll be arguing about Bakugou having his feet on the desk, but will get distracted by another boy with curly green hair. He’ll introduce himself as Midoriya. Remember the boy with the blonde hair. He sits in seat 17 and I need you to make sure that you become friends with him, but most importantly, I need you to change his heart.”

Momo’s eyes lifted from the letter, blinking, she needed a moment to process everything. How did the letter know what Iida had said to her or that he was going to come over here? Were her parents spying on her? Was this really her future self? Her head was spinning.

 “Don’t put your feet on the desk!” Iida scolded. 

“Huh?” the blonde smirked not moving his feet from their current position.

. “Don’t you think that’s rude to the U.A. upperclassmen and the people who made the desk?”

 “Nope. What junior high did you go to, you side character?” 

Well, he was rather crude, wasn’t he? Why would her future-self want her to pay attention to someone like him? That didn’t make any sense to her and it didn’t look like he was very friendly. So, how exactly was she supposed to become friends with him?

 Momo’s hands began to tremble as she watched the exchange between them.

 It was insanely accurate. 

This didn’t make any sense and she couldn’t read any more of this nonsense. It must have somehow been some prank. There was no way that she could be talking to herself from the future, could she? She shut the notebook deciding it wasn’t at all possible. 

 “Are we walking home together?” a familiar voice rang in her ears and Momo turned quickly on her heels to see Todoroki waiting for her outside of the classroom. He was a long time friend of hers. They both knew what it was like to grow up in the life of the wealthy and had become friends at the tender age of five. They were at an esteemed party being shown off by their parents and that night they became friends. There was a genuine understanding between them and Momo had never met anyone else who got it quite like he did. 

They didn’t see each other as often as they would’ve liked growing up. Their days had been filled with training-- but any time they were stuck at one of those events they could count on each other to be there. It had been nice to always have a friendly face to look forward to and even though he never really talked about what went on at home-- they were still there for each other. She wished she could do more for him, protect him somehow. It didn’t take much for her to figure out how terrible things were for him (and she didn’t just mean the fact that they had missed out on normal childhood things in favor of training). Sometimes looking at him made her heartache, but not with pity. She just wanted to ease his pain if she could.

 “Do you feel alright? You’re doing that thing where you mindlessly look into the distance…” he trailed. 

“Oh! Sorry, I’m fine, I was just thinking about something. But yes, we can walk home together,” she smiled softly securing her bag over her shoulder. He nodded and the two of them headed towards the gates of U.A.

 “You did a great job today Todoroki-san!” she complimented, a bounce in her step.

 “You placed first.”

 Momo couldn’t help but smile, her face growing a little bit warm. She knew it was his own way of saying that she had done a good job. “I know, but you still did well. Your quirk is really amazing.”

 “Bye Yaoyorozu-san!” they heard Ashido yell waving her arm with a big smile at them. “And you too Todoroki-san!” She was walking with the boy with red hair and Momo was pretty sure his name was Kirishima. Ashido had introduced herself to Momo during lunch. She had never encountered anyone so warm and inviting. It was a little strange, but she had been happy to make new friends on her first day there. All of the girls in her class seemed really nice now that she was thinking about it. 

The redhead turned and waved at the both of them now, cupping his hands around his mouth to yell. “Nice to meet you both today! Awesome quirks, guys! Totally manly. See ya tomorrow!” 

Momo waved back at them, though she was questioning how exactly her quirk was ‘manly’ and Todoroki just seemed a little taken aback by the whole exchange. New people weren’t exactly his thing.

 “Did you lose your manners, Todoroki-san?” she asked him in light gest.

 “No.” he answered his tone flat, but his cheeks were slightly tinted- she had caught that.

 “Come on, it’s getting late and I’m sure we both have lessons,” he spoke.

 “Right.”

 Later that evening Momo was trying to read, but couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to that notebook. It was tempting to consider opening it again-- but did she really want to get fooled by some prank? It must have been something planned by her class. No that wasn’t possible. They didn’t even know who she was until today, well most of them. There wasn’t any way for them to get into her room and most of them did not seem like the type to go along with any childish games. Plus why would they want to prank her? What would they get out of it? She was definitely overthinking this.

 She had to know what was in there. 

No, she should probably just throw it away.

 But what if it really was important?

 There is no way that it could be real!

Perhaps just a small peek.

 No, she had to be strong! 

“Oh for goodness sake just look at it!” she muttered to herself tossing her book off to the side. Momo opened the bag that was hanging off one of the chairs in her room. As she picked it up, it suddenly felt heavier than it did before. If this truly was from the future, why was it being trusted to her? She didn’t even know this boy, so why would this be something that she had to do? On the other hand, she was anything but reckless-- and so there must have been a good reason even if for the moment she couldn’t comprehend it.

 The burgundy bound notebook was becoming warm as she held it in her hands. She still wasn’t able to bring herself to open it quite yet. It was almost like reading a horror novel, curious to know more, but terrified to find out what lies within the text. Slowly she peeled open the cover to reveal the familiar writing. She reached over to grab a blank sheet of paper, penning the exact same words of the letter before her. They would probably look different and this whole debate would be completely over. It was preposterous to think that it could be identical- She stopped mid-thought holding the two papers next to each other. Her eyes narrowed scanning each piece carefully as if she would be able to spot at least one difference, but she couldn’t find any.

 “I guess I just have to read this,” she mumbled. It would be the only way to ease her troubled mind.

 Her finger guided her to where she had last left off and her face instantly flushed at the words she read.

“Now that you’re done with your handwriting analysis, will you just trust me? I know that’s weird to ask. This is a notebook that just showed up on your desk. But remember who it’s from.”

What harm could reading the first few pages do? 

She ate up every word as her future-self detailed exactly how the day went to-a-T.

 Okay. Today was a new day, she was going to walk up to him and they were going to be friends. Yep! She would make it happen, the future depended on it.

“I know he won’t be easy to get along with, but it’s imperative that you befriend him and help him change his ways.”

She entered the classroom early as always and waited. Perhaps she could strike up a conversation before class. Surprisingly he was never the last one in either. She thought someone with his demeanor would arrive to class late and without a care in the world. But it didn’t seem to be that way at all with him. Could they possibly bond over something like being on time to their classes? No that was stupid. He wasn’t someone like Iida who would pride himself on something like punctuality. That much she could tell about him already.

 He sat down at his desk three seats ahead of her and she stood to go speak to him. Her legs were moving before she could even really think about it. All she had to do was introduce herself and then the conversation would probably flow naturally from there, right? She could compliment him on his impressive scores in yesterday’s quirk assessment. He got third place which was pretty impressive! Yaoyorozu was sure he would be pretty happy about that.

 She inhaled a sharp breath and walked up to him. “Bakugou-san- I”.

 Before she could say anything else though her nerves got the better of her and she wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe because he looked so intimidating and uninviting. His red eyes met her dark ones and his brows furrowed.

 “Yeah? What the fuck do you want? And who are you?” 

Luck was clearly on her side because she spotted a pen on the floor and quickly picked it up holding it out for him. “You dropped this.” 

“Tch.” He reached forward snatching the pen from her hand. 

“You’re welcome, Bakugou-san.” she huffed swiftly turning and heading back toward her desk.

 He really did have a rotten attitude and foul mouth. Would it have killed him to be cordial to her? 

Probably. 

The answer was probably.

 Later that day it was time for Heroics and All Might had them paired off for combat training. It startled Momo how excited Bakugou seemed to get when it was brought it up. He clearly reveled in the idea of getting to show off his quirk. It was powerful, but he was reckless with it and that wouldn’t cut it if he wanted to be a pro someday. When he did get a chance to use his power he was too hung up on whatever it was that happened between him and Midoriya. 

It had been too easy to analyze the two of them and it baffled her that their Sensei hadn’t stepped in, but she trusted there was a reason for that. He was the symbol of peace after all. 

When she critiqued the fight she could see the anger and maybe even shame? It was only there for a moment before his normal Bakugou scowl returned.

 When it was her turn she half expected him to critique her just to get back at her, but he didn’t. He was clearly still bothered by what happened and she wondered if she should say something to him. After class, she would try to catch him to apologize. It wasn’t that she thought she was wrong for anything she said-- maybe she had just been too harsh. But he didn't seem like the type that would accept an apology so easily either. She had to do something or at least try.

Yaomomo had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t noticed that he ended up leaving the classroom altogether, nor that Midoriya was also missing. She gathered up her things slipping out of the classroom to see if she could still catch him. She had promised herself that she would try to make friends with him today and had already failed once. Momo didn’t want to fail again.

 Her small feet quick against the pavement as she attempted to catch up to him.

‘I should’ve been paying more attention! What if this is a key moment and I’m messing it up?!’

 She rounded the corner barely having time to adjust her eyes to see Bakugou and Midoriya were speaking. Before she could say or do anything a pair of arms wrapped around her. One around her shoulders and the other around her waist. She was about to scream when she realized she was familiar with this person’s grip. She recognized the smell of his cologne too. 

“Yaoyorozu,” his voice a hushed whisper as he kept her back pressed against his chest.

Why was Todoroki here?

He put his finger to her lips, warning her not to speak and she nodded. Did he know something that she didn’t know? What was going on here and why was he still holding her like this? 

It was hard to concentrate, but they were close enough that they could slightly hear what the other pair were talking about. At least in jumbled pieces. Bakugou, of course, was much easier to hear because, well, he was yelling. 

“One day I will make this quirk my own and beat you with my own power.” Midoriya declared. 

The two hiding exchanged a look not sure what he meant by that. It was odd phrasing and then Momo remembered something in the letter.

“If you save Bakugou-san, then you save Midoriya-san too.”

She had made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t read ahead like the notebook asked her not to. Her future-self claimed that she didn’t want past Momo getting overwhelmed, but it was hard to keep such a promise. If this was so important shouldn’t she go in with as much knowledge as possible that way she could handle the situation properly? Her future-self seemed to know her well enough to counter argue that point, but still-- it was frustrating. To hear them talking like this…. it only piqued her curiosity even further.

 “Today I lost to you…” Bakugou trailed off shaking in anger. It sounded like he was in some sort of pain and Momo wondered why this mattered to him so much. It was just a trial battle, a learning experience. But, on that same token, she understood too. It seemed like he was a perfectionist much like herself. Though they had two completely different ways of dealing with it. 

“That’s all it was, that’s all…”

 Seeing him like this, talking about how he knew that he couldn’t beat Todoroki cast him in a different light for her. He was unintentionally being vulnerable and unknowingly exposing himself not only to Midoriya but to the two of them too. Momo wanted to comfort the both of them. She could feel the animosity and she just wanted to know what happened between them-- and furthermore what was going to happen that made all of this necessary?

"DAMN IT! I ENDED UP AGREEING WITH WHAT THAT PONYTAIL GIRL SAID!" He bellowed, startling Momo, but Todoroki kept his grip tight on her.

Was he crying? Did her words, though necessary, really cut him that deeply? And he agreed? With her? 

Being a hero was really important to him, wasn’t it? She knew it was important to all of them who were here… but his passion was overwhelming even for himself. Maybe especially for himself.

That’s why she was here doing this…. 

“I need you to change his heart..” 

“Come on,” Todoroki whispered finally pulling her away as Bakugou turned from Midoriya. There was no way she could go to him now, but this wasn’t all for not. She had gained something. 

Momo learned who he really was and now she wanted to save him.

[mi-ma-mo]

Systematic Love

Chapter 1: Sick Beginnings

Characters: Kokichi Ouma, K1-B0 and the rest of the NDRV3 cast.

Ratings: T for Teen and up audiences, M/M

Summary: Teenage years are difficult for everyone, but they might be an even more confusing time for a teenage robot. Kiibo goes on a journey of self-discovery and finds the lair of a hoarder, classmates and upperclassmen with many opinions, the reason for his creation and the definition of love.

Author’s Note: I haven’t written a fic with multiple chapters since 2012, but this will be my best attempt at giving Kokichi and Kiibo and the character development and happiness they deserve in this non-despair AU! 

Read it here or on AO3!

“Kiibo-kun?”

Akamatsu’s voice registered with him. Kiibo sheepishly closed his notebook as he looked up to lock eyes with the Ultimate Pianist.

“I was wondering if I could ask a favour of you as the class representative.”

The gentle smile on her face was no match for the wide grin that appeared on Kiibo’s face at being asked that question. It wasn’t every day that Akamatsu came to ask a favour of him!

“Of course!” Kiibo beamed. “Ask me anything. I will be happy to help as long as your request falls within my capabilities.”

Akamatsu put her hands together, signalling with her body language that was she was about to ask Kiibo something she couldn’t just ask anyone. “You might have noticed that Ouma-kun is absent today. Tsumiki-san told me that he is terribly ill, this time for real… it seems. I wanted to ask you to visit him today to see how he is doing and to share your notes with him.”

Of course, Kiibo had noticed Ouma’s absence. He hadn’t known this peace since arriving at Hope’s Peak Academy. In just a few months’ time, he had been dubbed Ouma’s favourite punching bag. A metaphorical punching bag, that is. The one time Ouma had punched him to surprise him, the Ultimate Supreme Leader had exposed Kiibo to some rather foul language.

“I suppose… I could…..” Kiibo mumbled, his gaze settling on Ouma’s empty desk at the front of the classroom. Ouma had been moved there recently so that the teachers could keep a better eye on him. It wasn’t an improvement. If anything he was more of a headache in the front than in the back. “Why ask me?”

Akamatsu’s smile wavered slightly as she thought of the best way to put her thoughts into words.

“You’re the only one who could be around him and not get sick also. I would greatly appreciate it if you could go, but if you’re not feeling like it I will go instead.”

Ah… Of course. Kiibo would be lying if he said that explanation didn’t hurt a little. Akamatsu was right. Whatever virus Ouma had come down with would have no effect on Kiibo. Asking him to do this favour was the obvious choice, but it would have been nice if Akamatsu had needed him for something else than his inhumanity.

“Alright. I shall pay him a visit after class.”

“Thank you so much, Kiibo-kun.”

Akamatsu offered him one last smile before she turned around and rejoined the girls. All of them were having lunch together, discussing things Kiibo had no knowledge off as they traded cutely cut bento box food items with each other. Even Harukawa, who had kept her distance in the beginning, was quietly sitting with the other girls during lunch. Kiibo detected a hint of a smile on her face as Akamatsu came to sit next to her again.

The boys were more evenly spread through the classroom during lunch break. Momota had moved his desk together with Saihara’s and was loudly talking about his future plans as Saihara nodded and chewed thoughtfully. Gokuhara and Hoshi were also sitting together, but their conversation wasn’t intelligible over the other conversations in the classroom. If Kiibo had to guess what their conversation was about, however, he would say they were probably talking about the tiny ladybug sitting happily on the tip of Gokuhara’s massive pinkie.

Shinguji was sitting alone. This was mostly to blame on the fact that Amami was abroad at the moment. Not that the Ultimate Anthropologist seemed to mind having no conversation partner. Just like Kiibo he was observing the others, although Shinguji clearly was avoiding looking at him. Shinguji’s disinterest in Kiibo had been apparent to him from day one.

With nobody paying Kiibo any mind (not even Iruma as she was in the middle of “voring” her lunch as she would say, whatever that meant), Kiibo was left alone with the scribbles in his notebook. He glanced once more at Ouma’s empty desk before he opened his notebook on the last page. Resting his head on the palm of his hand he looked over his drawings. The Ultimate Artist talent rightfully belonged to Yonaga and not to him. Still, if you were to squint and use just a little bit of imagination, you would be able to tell that Kiibo had been drawing different designs for himself.

This wasn’t to say he wasn’t fond of his current design. This was the body his creator, Professor Idabashi, had given him after all! Even so, Kiibo hoped he would have a say in what his next body should look like when he would come to outgrow his current body mentally. His mind wandered and lunch break was over before he knew it.

After class Kiibo headed to Ouma’s room in the dorms as promised. He shook his head before reluctantly knocking on Ouma’s door. To his surprise, the door wasn’t locked and his knocking made it swing open slightly.

“Ouma-kun? Akamatsu asked me to share my notes with you. Can I come in?”

No reply came. Kiibo placed a hand on the door and opened it further carefully.

Only one word came to his mind as he saw Ouma’s room for the first time. HOARDER. No matter where Kiibo looked, Ouma’s room was filled with junk. Papers were scattered all over the floor, towers of boxes were lined along the walls and there was stuff everywhere.

At a first glance all the items in Ouma’s room seemed to be random, but as Kiibo moved further into the room and had a good look around he started connecting dots. All the different items could be associated with his classmates.

Various ‘Wish you were here!’ postcards and exotic souvenirs you wouldn’t be able to find in any ordinary tourist shop for Amami. Music sheets and what Kiibo could only assume to be a piano tuning set for Akamatsu. Leftover fabric and cosplay sketches for Shirogane and just so many more things which must have belonged to his classmates previously. He even noticed Saihara’s hat which had been lost for months. Kiibo shook his head as he picked up the hat from the floor. He didn’t know whether to be impressed or disturbed that Ouma had managed to collect all of these things.

It was only when Kiibo had walked even further inside that he noticed the whiteboard in Ouma’s room. The text ‘New members?’ was written on it with a black whiteboard marker. Familiar faces were staring back at him right underneath the text. The whiteboard was filled with pictures of his classmates, all with bullet point notes and scribbles to accompany them. A few bullet points said something positive such as ‘kind’ and ‘fun’, but most of the notes where harsh. Examples would be nicknames such as ‘depression prison man’ and ‘cum dumpster’. It took Kiibo a moment to notice, but there was no picture of himself present on the whiteboard.

Kiibo’s attention was moved away from the whiteboard when he heard some movement behind him. He turned around and noticed the Ouma shaped form under the covers of the bed. Reminding himself of why he was here in the first place he approached Ouma. After seeing the state of this room he also had some questions for him he would like to have answered.

However, Kiibo had failed to notice the carefully laid out trap in the mess. After to have taken three more steps forward his right foot got stuck on something. When he looked down he noticed an invisible hanging wire stretched tightly around his foot.

Three simultaneous clicking sounds above him made him look up. Three hair blowers hung from the ceiling, each of them having a paint roller frame stuck to it with duct tape. Instead of a foam roll, all of these paint rollers had a roll of toilet paper slid on. Kiibo had only a fraction of a second to look at the trap he had set off because the now turned on hair blowers started blowing what felt like a never-ending supply of toilet paper at him.

Kiibo held up his hands defencelessly and yelped as he was assaulted. He thought of retreating, but his fear of activation more traps had him frozen to the spot. Only once he was thoroughly buried under a pile of toilet paper the hair blowers were turned off and a horse like laugh registered with him instead.

“Nee-heehee. Robots can’t even see through the most obvious traps, huh? I expected better from you at least, Kiiboy.”

Ouma’s sharp laugh returned but was quickly replaced by a bad cough. Kiibo moved all the toilet paper out of the way as best as he could and saw a slightly hunched over Supreme Leader in the middle of a coughing fit. The dark circles under Ouma’s eyes also did a lot to reinforce the idea that he was very sick. Ouma sniffled once his coughing fit was finally over and then turned his attention to his uninvited visitor.

“Did you come here to laugh at me?”

“Huh?” Kiibo momentarily stopped untangling himself from the toilet paper pile at the sudden accusation. “N-No! I wouldn’t do that… although you are pretty mean to me.”

Kiibo had expected Ouma to bring on the fake tears and call him a bully, but all he received was a half-hearted shrug. This seemed like the perfect time to tell Ouma what he was here for. Kiibo would have told him at that moment if there hadn’t been more pressing things on his mind. Kiibo managed to step out of the toilet paper pile and disapprovingly pointed at their surroundings.

“Why did you steal all this stuff?!”

“Whhhaaaatttt? Why are you accusing me? I didn’t steal anything.”

Kiibo held up Saihara’s hat, his expression unchanging. Ouma put his hands behind his head nonchalantly and smiled.

“It’s ugly. I did us all a favour.”

Taking Ouma’s comment to heart, Kiibo looked at the hat in his hand before tossing it aside into the toilet paper pile.

It was then that he managed to take a better look at what Ouma was wearing. Instead of his usual unusual outfit, he was wearing a grey fleece shirt with a slightly opened shark mouth in the middle of his chest and a horizontally striped white and grey fleece pants. The shirt was a bit too big for him, which even Kiibo could admit made for an endearing sight.

“You’re in your pyjamas,” Kiibo commented, causing Ouma to roll his eyes.

“Well, duh. I was sleeping until you barged in here. Didn’t they teach you any manners?”

“My creator raised me, but anything he didn’t teach me is self-taught as I’m a hyper-advanced artificial intelligence.”

“Figures. So what the hell did you want?”

Kiibo flinched at the curse word thrown into that sentence before opening his black, fake leather shoulder bag and taking his notebook out. Neither of them was going to like this, Kiibo thought. Akamatsu would need a lot more than just her smile to talk him into this next time.

With his notebook pressed to his chest, Kiibo watched his feet closely as he made his way over to Ouma. The few centimetres Kiibo had on Ouma became more apparent now that they were standing close to each other like this. Ouma’s face was unreadable as Kiibo offered him his notebook.

“Akamatsu-san wanted me to share my notes with you. We should go over the subject matters which were explained today together.”

Ouma was quick to take Kiibo’s notebook from him and even quicker to flip through all the pages. Ouma’s eyes went over Kiibo’s notes so hastily that Kiibo wondered if he was actually reading any of them at all. The Ultimate Supreme Leader soon arrived at perfectly blank pages, but that didn’t stop him from flipping further through the notebook. It was only once Ouma arrived at the last page and stared at it for a few moments too long that Kiibo remembered there was something in that notebook he didn’t want anyone to see.

“D-Don’t look at that!” Kiibo blurted out, already reaching for his notebook to take it back. His drawings! How could he have forgotten about his sketches for a new design?!

Ouma must have foreseen Kiibo’s sudden outburst because he closed the notebook and effortlessly danced out of Kiibo’s way. He used the notebook to hide the lower half of his face and a smug smile along with it. “Heeeh? I thought you were supposed to share your notes with me? You break my heart Kiiboy, really. Although I suppose you won’t understand such things as a heartless metal man.”

Kiibo wasn’t able to formulate any kind of reply Ouma wouldn’t make fun of in this flustered state. Saving himself some extra embarrassment, Kiibo didn’t speak as he tried to take his notebook back again. However, even while being severely sick Ouma was still too fast for him. Their strange cat and mouse chase went on for a few moments before Kiibo accepted his defeat.

“Given the circumstance… I will allow you to copy my notes, but I will need that notebook back.”

There were stars in Ouma’s eyes as he jumped off his bed and landed in front of Kiibo. The Ultimate Supreme Leader stood on his toes and brought their faces way closer to each other than Kiibo was comfortable with.

“It will be in mint condition when I return it to you tomorrow. I promise.”

Kiibo had learnt quickly that any promises Ouma made should be taken with a grain of salt. As such he figured he would probably get his notebook back, but its condition would be a surprise. “Fine.”

Despite just having promised that Kiibo’s notebook would be alright, Ouma tossed it at his cluttered desk. Kiibo frowned and opened his mouth to say something when a high-pitched sneeze suddenly escaped Ouma. His whole body shuddered as the sneezes kept coming. Kiibo watched him with concern and mild curiosity.

Ouma stared at Kiibo with tired eyes once he finally managed to stop sneezing. He sniffled and wiped his nose on the end of his sleeve before weakly gesturing at the door. “You can go now.”

“But what about–”

“Just go,” Ouma interrupted him, sounding irritated.

There were many more questions Kiibo had wanted to ask (especially about the contents of Ouma’s room), but now that Ouma was telling him to leave he had no more reason to stay. He simply nodded before turning on his heel and heading for the door. He could hear Ouma shuffle about behind him, but Kiibo didn’t look back.

“Get well soon…?” Kiibo said in a hushed voice. A groan came from under the covers of Ouma’s bed before Kiibo closed the door behind him.

The next day Kiibo found his notebook on his desk in mint condition. Or, well, it was in mint condition in one sense of the word.

“Wh-What the hell?!” Iruma loudly proclaimed, pinching her nose with one hand and picking up Kiibo’s notebook by a corner of its cover with the other. “The fuck did you do to this?!”

“Ah, Iruma-san!”

Kiibo immediately rose from his chair and he snatched his notebook from her hands. An overwhelming mint odour came from the notebook, which arguably was the worst if you could detect smell via your hands and you were currently holding it. Kiibo dropped the notebook on his desk again and waved his hands to get the smell off them.

“Please don’t touch it. I lent it to Ouma-kun yesterday and I don’t know what has happened to it since then.”

A look of disgust crossed Iruma’s face before shifting to a look of disinterest. “Pipsqueak huh? Keh! He thought he could spray this with a mint refresher and have it last? Miss me with that weak shit. I would have built–”

“Ouma-kun isn’t here at the moment, but please don’t give him any ideas,” Kiibo begged, afraid that the Ultimate Supreme Leader was somehow listening in on this conversation. Now that he thought about it, how had his notebook mysterious made it to his desk in the first place if Ouma was still sick in bed? “Did anyone see Ouma-kun?”

“Gonta asked to bring notebook, but he not make notebook smell bad. Gonta promise!”

It wouldn’t be the first time Ouma made Gokuhara go on errands. Kiibo had often wondered if he should warn Gokuhara about Ouma’s intentions, but if he was honest with himself he didn’t even know what those intentions were. At least Gokuhara seemed to enjoy himself while helping Ouma out.

“I believe you, Gokuhara-kun,” Kiibo said apologetically.

A familiar tune played to signal the start of their first class, abruptly ending their conversation. Everyone went to their seats and their teacher began calling out names to write down today’s attendance.

The mint smell quickly wore off, as Iruma had predicted, which made handling his notebook a lot easier. Fearing what he would find inside, Kiibo carefully flipped through the whole thing. He had expected to find vulgar comments or, even worse, his notes scribbled out, but other than the assault on his sense of smell he found nothing strange. That was until he arrived at the second to last page.

Kiibo “blinked” as he stared at the page. On it, there was a pencil sketch… of him. The drawing wasn’t exactly accurate, but the additional notes Ouma had written down on the design helped to sketch the image in Kiibo’s mind.

Essentially the design was similar to Kiibo’s current one with a few upgrades and gadgets added. The things which stood out the most to him were the jetpack on his back and the laser gun for his right arm. There were also lasers coming out of his eyes which seemed like a bit of an over-kill, but the comment ‘pew pew pew!’ next to them made Kiibo think that he shouldn’t take that feature too seriously.

Underneath the big sketch were a few more random scribbles and the text: ‘you will never be a real boy so try being a robot instead’. Kiibo wasn’t quite sure why, but reading that… hurt. A real boy or a robot… Couldn’t he be both? He was a robot and he was incurably proud of that, but at the same time, he was a person.

“Are you still with us, Kiibo?” his teacher addressed him directly.

Flustered, Kiibo closed his notebook and started paying attention. “Y-Yes! My apologies.”

The teacher gave him a single nod of approval before turning back to the board and continuing her explanation. He carefully opened his notebook again on the second to last page. There was one last comment he hadn’t noticed before he got interrupted. Upon reading it his gears started turning.

‘this one doesn’t need a dick’.

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

Month of Drabbles Day 31: The Science of SOULs

Summary: The story of the humans who fell into the Underground.

Words: 1351

Warnings: Death

A few years after King Asgore’s declaration of war, the second human in a long time falls into the Ruins. They wore a ribbon in their hair that might have been too big for their face and carried a toy knife befitting of a child their age. Lost and unsure of what to do, they patiently waited in the Ruins until they encountered a monster.

They were killed and their SOUL delivered to Asgore in New Home. Even years later, Toriel swore she could still hear the human crying in the halls of the Ruins.

~

Decades later, another human jumped into the Ruins in search of adventure. They wore a bandanna around their head that would have made them look manly, except no one was ever sure if the human was a man. They also wore boxing gloves on their hands that hurt a lot when they punched Toriel to escape from the Ruins.

They charged bravely into Snowdin and was promptly killed by the dog guard. Their ghost, bitter from their defeat, wandered the Underground until a sad ghost offered them a job at a snail farm.

~

Doctor Wingdin Gaster, the king’s royal scientist, found that SOULs gave off energy that was constantly replenished. While he couldn’t use this to create new souls to break the “Barrier, he found that it was handy in developing security systems.

~

The third human that was killed didn’t arrive in the underground until almost a century after the human before them. They wore a tutu and ballet shoes, and it was clear that they loved the arts even more than Toriel did. They firmly told Toriel to let them go, as they had a dream of dancing to pursue. However, their morals forbade them to do anything like what the human before them did. They did not fight Toriel, but rather convinced her that their integrity would help them survive outside.

The human’s integrity did not, in fact, save them. Doctor Gaster delivered their SOUL to the king himself. No one ever heard of the human again until two skeletons appeared in Snowdin, their SOULs glowing a dark blue.

~

Doctor Gaster was the last skeleton monster left in the aftermath of the Monster-Human War. Which meant, to create new skeletons, he would need pieces of his bones, his magic, and energy from a SOUL to bring them to life.

Monster SOULs were out of the picture-no one could know what he was planning to do. But human SOULs were powerful, weren’t they?

~

The next human arrived at the Ruins only a few years after the last. This human, unlike the others, had no life to return to on the surface. Still, he pressed on through the Underground. He wiped his cloudy glasses every few minutes and wrote in his notebook of his hopes and dreams of being loved someday by all. Life was going to get better someday. He had to persevere until the end.

And the end did come under the hammer of Gerson, Captain of the Royal Guard. Days later, Gerson came upon a purple ghost wandering, lost, and pointed them to the snail farm nearby.

~

Muffet had always been good friends with Nabstablook and the the angry ghost that they claimed to be their “cousin.” That’s why, when Nabstablook introduced her to their new “cousin,” she offered to teach them how to bake.

She didn’t realize how long she’d spent with Hapstablook until she realized that her SOUL had become the same shade of purple as the cheery ghost.

~

Only a few years later, another human fell. This human heard of all the strife outside of the Ruins, and, compelled by their kind SOUL, begged to be let out so they could fix it. Hesitantly, Toriel let them out. Maybe the human was right. Maybe they could fix everything by adjusting their apron and fixing everyone a nice meal with that frying pan of theirs.

The human’s kindness, however, was no match for the spears of a fish monster aspiring to be Captain of the Royal Guard. When her superior officer saw the SOUL, he chided her because she was supposed to be on maternal leave and shouldn’t have been anywhere near a human.

~

Undyne always found it strange that her SOUL was green while most other monsters’ were white. She also found it strange that she could briefly turn other people’s SOULs green and glue them in place while a shield opened in front of them. It was a power built to protect, she knew, but she also couldn’t help pursuing a life of combat. Her mother was famous for killing a human as a royal guard. She wanted to live up to the same legacy.

~

The most recent human to fall came almost twenty years after the human before them. Like the last human, Toriel told them about the cruel ways of the monsters of the outside. This human, clutching hat and fiddling with their gun, vowed to make the monsters stop their cruelty. But there would not be redemptions for these monsters, the human decided, there would be justice.

The human rampaged through the Underground. They did not touch any bystanders, but ruthlessly shot with their gun anyone that attacked them. Countless monsters fell by their hands, including the current Captain of the Royal Guard.

Doctor Alphys, the royal scientist, watched the human cross the bridge to Hotland from outside of her lab. Undyne, a royal guard, caught up to the human and tried to corner them with her shield. Alphys watched as the human calmly raised their gun and fired at Undyne’s head.

Alphys screamed as Undyne collapsed to the ground. She hadn’t battled anyone in years, but Alphys didn’t think twice before engaging the human in battle. The human clicked their gun, but there were no more bullets left. Alphys took a deep breath and struck the human with the highest voltage of electricity she could conduct.

~

Doctor Alphys flipped through her pages of research on the nature of SOULs. Months of research had done nothing to teach her how to reverse what’s happened to her patients, but she had managed to connect a few dots she didn’t know she needed to connect.

Human SOULs, it turned out, were tinged with the color of the owner’s most prominent personality trait. They gave off energy, which, depending on the SOUL’s color, could become its own conscious entity-an incorporeal ghost would be the best way to describe it. If contacted by SOULs as weak as a monster’s, the energy would also tint the monster SOUL with its color.

There were many ways to have one’s SOUL tinted with color. The easiest way was to kill a human. Alphys’s own SOUL could attest to that. Spending enough time with a human SOUL, or even just a remnant of it, could color one’s SOUL as well. It was possible to be born with a colored SOUL, if the monster’s parent also had a colored SOUL.

Monsters with colored SOULs had special attacks, most likely relating to the traits of the SOUL whose energy the monster took, although here was no evidence that monsters took on the personality traits of the SOULs themselves. Their special attacks always included the ability to briefly change another SOUL to the color of their own. It worked with monsters, but Alphys had no idea if it would work with humans.

Another question was if she could change the color of someone’s SOUL without engaging in battle with them. Alphys scribbled on some blueprint paper. She was working on a device that would electronically change one’s SOUL to the color of her own and gift them with her own powers whenever the user wanted. If she could perfect this technology, maybe she wouldn’t be known for ignoring those letters anymore.

~

The final human fell down a mere four years after the one before them. Alphys watched from her cameras as the human trudged through the Underground, determined to escape.

This would make an interesting experiment.

[botanistlester]

Sweet Pea (2/?)

Summary: A nickname that goes bitter in your mouth. Cries for help that no one listens to. Gentle hands that make you quake on the ground you’re standing on. When Phil first met Nico, he thought he was a gift from the heavens. But behind the mask lies something daunting, something unnerving, that Phil never foresaw. Through his journey, he finds solace in Dan, the regular at his workplace, who seems to be the only one who sees through Nico’s mask to the darkness underneath. Warnings: Abusive relationship, violence A/N: as always, thank you to @snowbunnylester and @littlelionsloves for editing tips and making me really excited about this fic! the song lyrics at the beginning are from a song called “I Don’t Mind” by Defeater! Masterlist

Read it on AO3 Read it on Wattpad

-

Chapter Two

And I don’t mind if we take our time, ‘Cause I’m all yours if you’re all mine.

-

Work was hard when Phil just wanted to be hanging out with Nico. A couple of days had passed since they had started dating, and Phil couldn’t be happier with his life right now. Nico treated him like an actual prince, and in turn, Phil fell for him more and more every single day. He could already tell that there was a very large chance that he would fall in actual love with the guy. Ah, love. Such a strange thought, especially when he thought about how perfect Nico was. He didn’t really understand how Nico wanted to be with Phil of all people, when he was an ethereal human being himself. Nico, with his American accent and his pretty green eyes and his freckles. It was hardly fair that someone was that beautiful.

And yet, Phil was able to call him his own. What sort of miracle was that? His phone vibrated in his pocket and he clenched his teeth together to stop himself from answering it. His manager, Cleo, was super strict about phones while they were working, claiming it made them look as if they were slacking. Occasionally Phil could sneak a quick text in, but he knew it was risky, especially when Cleo could poke her head around the corner and see him at any given moment.

“Phil, Dan’s here,” Chandler said, rounding the corner. She had a bunch of dirty dishes stacked on her tray, her other hand putting the tray jack on the rack. She gave Phil a smirk and fluttered her eyelashes. “I swear, that boy is totally head over heels for you. Why else would he come by himself every week just to have you as his server?” Phil scowled at her and resisted the urge to smack the dirty dishes from her grip. If they were anywhere other than work, he might have, but he didn’t want to get fired. Yet.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he reprimanded. “First of all, it’s not true. And even if it were, it’d never happen. I have a boyfriend now, remember?”

Chandler snorted. “Boring,” she muttered as she walked away, towards the dish room. He knew that she didn’t mean it, that she was just having a bit of fun with him, but he couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes anyway. She always teased him about Dan, stating that the man fancied Phil, hence the reason he even ate at LaBella’s in the first place. That was just ridiculous, in Phil’s opinion. There were plenty of regulars that showed up every week, ones that even requested Chandler every time. Why was it any different when it was Dan? He shook his head, deciding not to dwell on the topic. He had a job to do, one that he was currently slacking on. Oops. He cracked his fingers, took a sip of his drink to wet his dry mouth, and stepped away from the server station, making his way into the dining room lobby. LaBella’s was a small, family owned business that served copious amounts of “Italian” food. It was known for it’s nice and cozy atmosphere and good fettuccine alfredo, so the restaurant was always buzzing with energy, no matter what time of day it was.

That was why Phil didn’t have to question why Dan came to this place. It was a rather relaxing place to eat after class, the soft piano music and quiet chatter filling the air. Phil often saw him leaning over his textbooks, taking notes in a space themed notebook. When Phil had asked him before what he studied, Dan had looked embarrassed before admitting that he was a theatre student with a focus on directing. Phil had told him it was much cooler than his own English degree.

As Phil approached the familiar table, Dan was leant over the menu. He had his backpack sitting beside him on the booth and his notebook already on the table. A bright pink pen sat atop the notebook, which made Phil smile. No matter how small, it was always nice to see men not care about the implications behind the colour pink.

“Hey, Dan!” Phil exclaimed, and he watched with amusement as Dan’s head shot up to stare at him.

Dan was definitely one of the prettiest customers Phil had ever had. When he first started coming in, Phil could admit that he’d even had a teensy tiny crush on him at one point. Of course, that had all faded over time, which was good considering Phil had Nico now. He was still pretty, though, with his wide brown eyes and his curly brown hair. He had a couple of beauty marks on his cheeks and even dimples which made Phil have trouble telling him no. Dimples were just too damn endearing.

Dan smiled and those dimples appeared, caving deep into his cheeks. “Hey, Phil. Are you having a good day today?”

Phil nodded and played with his pen in his apron pocket. He didn’t need to write down Dan’s order usually, but he always greeted him just in case he decided to change it up. “It’s been pretty steady so I’m staying optimistic so far. How about you? How’s directing going?”

In response, Dan groaned. “It’s going. My aesthetics class is going to kill me.”

“What, are you not aesthetic enough for it?”

Dan glared at him and threw a balled up piece of straw wrapper at Phil. “You know damn well I’m aesthetic enough, excuse you.”

Phil laughed and it sounded too loud in the tiny dining room. It always did, but he never knew how to quiet himself down enough as to not disturb anyone around him. “You’re right. My bad.” And then onto business, “The usual?” Dan always had a three cheese stuffed shells, a salad, and a side of calamari with a strawberry margarita and a water.

Dan nodded. “Yes please.”

And that was that.

There was literally nothing for Chandler to freak out over. Dan and Phil were just customer and server, nothing more and nothing less. Purely business. There was no need for her to freak out every single time Dan looked his way.

“He’s staring at your ass,” Chandler sang when he was out of Dan’s earshot and filling a glass with ice.

He turned his glare onto his friend, hoping there was heat in his gaze. “You are my least favourite kind of person,” he told her without humour in his voice.

She sighed dramatically and leaned against the server station, pouting. Phil wanted to ask her if she had anything better to do, but he didn’t manage to get the words out.

“Come on, Phil. He’s so cute! He looks like a gentle rabbit just waiting for somebody to claim him.”

“That was a horrible metaphor.”

“But you know it’s true.”

Phil groaned and took the glass away from the drink fountain right before it spilled over the edge.

“Look, Chandler,” he deadpanned, frowning. “Dan is cute. I’ll admit that. But i’m not going to leave Nico for him, okay? Nothing’s going to happen. I’m happy with Nico and that isn’t going to change any time soon. Can you just knock it off?”

He unwrapped the bottom of the straw and stuck it into the drink, feeling irritation dwelling in his belly, bubbling up just like the water in his glass.

Chandler sighed and waved her hand, pouting. “Fine, fine. But only because I see how nice Nico is to you. You really hit the jackpot there, Phil. I’m jealous.” She watched with folded arms as Phil made his way over to the terminal, swiping his identification card and inserting Dan’s order on the correct table number. “Maybe I’m just trying to get you out of the way so I can take Nico for myself.”

Phil snorted and swatted his hand at her. “Get your filthy ass out of here. He’s mine.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Chandler said in a spooky voice, wriggling her fingers as if she was performing magic. She looked past Phil’s head then, peering into the dining room, and tsked. “I just got sat. Have fun with your lover boy.”

Don’t get him wrong, Phil absolutely adored Chandler, but she could get to be a bit much at times. Just because Phil was bisexual didn’t mean that he wanted to screw every single person who hung around him.

And yet, even though he was bisexual, Chandler only teased him about other men. It was rather annoying that she didn’t validate the other part of his sexuality, but she never really listened whenever he told her that it bothered him. She only told him that it was easy to tease him about boys. Phil shook his head. These were thoughts for another day, definitely not thoughts he needed to have while he was at work.

He finished typing in Dan’s order and logged out of the terminal before walking back over towards where Dan was sitting. He was already working on his homework, jotting down notes in his notebook. His tongue was sticking out as he worked, and his left leg bounced under the table, making him seem rather jittery. It made Phil smile a little as he set the glass on the table. “Working hard already, I see?” Phil commented, wiping the condensation from the glass on his apron.

Dan glanced up and gave him a toothy grin. “You bet. I’ve got an exam tomorrow that I’ve been procrastinating on so I’m trying to cram.”

“Aesthetics?” Phil asked.

Dan hummed in agreement and tapped his pen on the page of his notebook. It left little pink dots on the paper, but Dan didn’t seem to notice even though it was quite hypnotizing to Phil. “Hopefully I remember enough stuff tomorrow that I’ll at least get a somewhat good grade.”

“I know you can do it,” Phil told him gently, giving him a supportive smile, which Dan returned thankfully.

They chatted for a bit longer about classes and it was easy. Easier than any of Phil’s other customers. Maybe it was just because Dan was a gentle person, or perhaps it was because Phil was used to his presence, but it was always relaxing whenever Dan set foot into the restaurant. He was never demanding, never in a rush. He was always patient and understanding. If there were mistakes, he just gave Phil a bright smile and told him it wasn’t an issue and that he didn’t mind. He always showed up alone, but he never seemed to care about that. That’s why Phil liked having Dan as a customer so much, why he didn’t mind whenever Dan showed up to his work.

Not to mention, he always left really good tips. Phil couldn’t exactly complain about that.

Dan has been coming to LaBella’s since Phil’s second week of working there, about a year ago. Dan had just started university and was going around town trying to figure out the best places to eat. When Phil had first served him, he had been with a girl named Louise, but Phil had only seen her one other time before Dan started coming by himself. Slowly, Dan had become a comforting presence, one that was familiar above all else. He just had this certain… aura about him, one that could calm Phil down no matter how stressed out he was. On top of that, Phil had never seen Dan upset except for once, but that was only because Dan’s dog had died that day. Phil hadn’t exactly been able to blame him for ordering the biggest dessert that day and staying quiet as he scarfed it down like he needed it to breathe.

Work went by a lot more smoothly once Dan arrived. While Phil would usually be upset about someone camping at his table, he couldn’t help but be pleasantly thankful that he had one less table to worry about.

He didn’t have to worry about getting less tips either, because Dan always made sure to tip more than enough. All he had to do was make sure his customers had enough to drink and enough to eat, and the rest of the time he would joke around with Chandler and his other coworkers until he could clock out. When Dan left, he left behind a small note written in pink ink. It sat atop the checkbook, folded three times, and Phil blinked in surprise. Dan had never left a note before. What could he possibly want to tell him that was so important?

He put it in his apron pocket and cleared off the table before reading it, not wanting to get in trouble for slacking off.

Only once he was finished cleaning did he allow himself to open the note. The writing was a messy scrawl and Phil had to squint his eyes to make sense of the words. It took him a few minutes of deciphering to figure out a general idea of what it said, and when he did, he couldn’t keep the grin from spreading across his face.

Phil, thanks again for the awesome service! I’ve been having a stressful week due to exams, but you always know how to cheer me up. You seem happier than usual, and I’m glad to see that. I’ll see you next week!

-Dan

It was a strange note, especially because Dan never was one for talking much, but Phil had no qualms about something like this. In fact, it made cheeks begin to hurt from smiling so hard. Although he sure as hell wouldn’t tell Chandler what Dan had written unless he never wanted to hear the end if it.

Having nice customers like Dan definitely made being a server worth it.

-

Phil drove to Nico’s apartment after work. He didn’t know what type of music he was in the mood for so he just played Lady Gaga on full blast, screaming out the window about how he was born this way to anyone who would listen. He didn’t mind that it was probably annoying. He just couldn’t seem to tamp his excitement down whenever he saw Nico.

The rest of their day was supposed to be rather lazy. Nico had promised to make Phil dinner, saying it was a surprise, and had mentioned something about reading and watching a movie. Even though it was just a relaxed day where nothing special was going on, Phil couldn’t stop himself from being pleasantly excited.

He pulled up to Nico’s apartment not soon after, putting the car into park, grabbing his backpack, and heading to the door. He didn’t knock before he went in, knowing Nico would tell him to just come in anyway.

“Nicky?” Phil called, taking his shoes off at the mat. A confirmation noise came from the kitchen and Phil smiled, making his way towards it. He was greeted by the sight of Nico in a dog apron, cooking something in a skillet that looked vaguely like fajitas. Phil made a scene out of inhaling the scents of the food. “Mm, smells so good!”

“It better be,” Nico commented, shooting a wink from over his shoulder. He set the spatula on the counter and turned around, grinning widely at Phil and opening his arms wide. “C’mere. Gimme a kiss.”

Phil obeyed like a well-trained puppy, sinking appreciatively into Nico’s arms. He was still in his uniform that had alfredo stains on it, but thankfully Nico didn’t comment on his outrageous appearance. He’d change in a moment. They kissed and Phil’s heart soared like it always did, still not used to the feeling.

When they pulled away, Nico went back to cooking and Phil left the room for a moment to change out of his uniform. When he got back, he took a seat at the table, pulling his book out of his backpack so he could start on a little bit of reading. He was planning on beginning Impulse today so he could understand a little bit more about what went on in Nico’s head. He had just opened the first page and started reading when Nico spoke.

“I tried calling you while you were at work today,” he said conversationally.

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? I saw that.”

Nico stuck his tongue out at him and flicked a sauteed onion at him. “You didn’t answer. I was offended.”

Snorting, Phil rolled his eyes and tossed the cooked onion back. It landed on Nico’s shoulder, who wiped it away in disgust. “My manager is super strict about the no mobile phones policy,” he explained. “If I’d answered, it could have caused me to lose my job.”

“Then at least send a text explaining you can’t talk,” Nico whined. “What if I’d needed something important? You’d never know!”

Phil laughed. “Fine, fine, I’ll risk a single text for you if it’ll get you off my back. If I’d answered today, I wouldn’t have made it to Dan’s table on time. That wouldn’t have been good.”

Nico pursed his lips. “Dan?”

“Yeah. He’s my regular.”

“Is he cuter than me?”

Phil let out a surprised laugh, gaping at him with wide eyes. Was Nico jealous? Or was he just kidding around? Phil shook his head, amused. “You nerd. Of course he’s not. You’re like, top tier.”

Nico smiled at the skillet he was cooking in, looking pleased. It was endearing. “Good.” There was a moment where the vegetables sizzled in the pan, and then, “I got you some flowers because they reminded me of you. They’re on the table.”

It wasn’t hard to find them because Phil was sitting at the table. They were placed in a skinny purple vase, a pretty bundle of purples and pinks and whites. Phil’s eyes widened and he touched their petals, feeling the softness underneath his fingertips. Another guy had never bought him flowers before simply because they’d reminded him of Phil. He felt as though his chest was filled with so much emotion that he could barely breathe. “They’re beautiful,” Phil whispered gingerly.

Nico chuckled. “Almost as pretty as you, yeah? They’re sweet peas,” he murmured in a fond voice, one so raw that Phil felt the words seeping under his skin and into his bones.

“Oh hush,” Phil giggled, his cheeks reddening.

Nico removed the skillet from the stove, and then he was walking over to Phil. He leant down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, spreading warmth all throughout his body. “I’m serious. Maybe you can be my sweet pea.”

Phil laughed and tilted his head up, grinning at his boyfriend. Nico kissed the smile off his face until Phil was turning red all over again. “That’s so lame,” Phil breathed.

“Good thing we’re lame then, sweet pea,” Nico replied, pressing one more kiss to his lips before returning to the skillet. He hummed as he continued to cook, and Phil smiled at him even though he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t believe he had a man who took him on dates to the library, cooked him dinner, and gave him cute (and cheesy) nicknames. It was the most amazing thing in the world. He turned his attention back to the book in his hands, trying to hide his grin. Being creepy and staring at Nico as he cooked would do nothing but make him look strange. He needed to start reading the book anyway, knowing that favourite books said a lot about a person. The book was written in verse, which was a strange experience because it was not poetry. It was poetic and the author played around with words and sentence structure, which made Phil very pleased. It made the book read easier. Faster, even.

But as he made sense of the words, of the story, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of discomfort rising inside of him. Even from the first few pages, he knew that the story was going to be dark. It was about suicide and pain and recovery. It was about trying to live through the pain, trying to save yourself before it was too late. ‘Wish you could turn off the questions, turn off the voices, turn off all sound,’ Phil read to himself, glancing up at Nico once more. ‘Yearn to close out the ugliness, close out the filthiness, close out all light. Long to cast away yesterday, cast away memory, cast away all jeopardy. Pray you could somehow stop the uncertainty, somehow stop the loathing, somehow stop the pain. Act on your impulse, swallow the bottle, cut a little deeper, put the gun to your chest.’ Dark, full of meaning, possibly even triggering. Why did Nico love this book so much? Did he have to deal with a topic such as this? Did he perhaps go through a time in his life where he found death more appealing than life? Phil didn’t know, but he wanted to learn. He wanted to learn every little thing about Nico, all the way from his favourite foods to the reason behind his favourite books. Phil had made his decision and hopefully they would be in this for the long run now.

About ten minutes passed before Nico made a triumphant noise and presented Phil with a plate full of fajitas and broccoli. “I didn’t know what kind of side to make with fajitas but I figured broccoli was a safe choice,” Nico admitted, making Phil giggle.

“It’s wonderful,” Phil told him genuinely, kissing his boyfriend on the cheek.

“Just like you,” Nico sang. And then, with a wink added, “sweet pea.”

Laughing but also blushing, Phil began to dig in, even though his heart was trying to beat out of his chest. Happiness was welling in his throat and he wanted to scream with the raw emotion. He didn’t, of course, but he did laugh more loudly and became slightly twitchy because of it.

Dinner at Nico’s house with sweet peas on the table and a comfortable aura in the air was definitely something Phil could get used to.

Chapter Three 

[cutiecrates]

Cutie Reviews: Kawaii Box March 19

Whenever I review a box and really like it, I always have high hopes for the next box. So now it’s time to find out if I liked it too :D

Word of the month: Sakura - Cherry Blossoms

Sakura Stickers

Our first item is this set of really cute puppy and sakura themed stickers by Mind Wave. Something I find interesting about this set is that all the stickers have a light texture through them, and against the plain backdrop, they have a slight raise giving them a very slight 3D effect. Many of the pieces also have a shiny gold accent, which I tried to catch in the picture.

If you like sakura/flowery/or just cutesy stickers, Blippo.com has tons of sheets. This specific sheet is $1.54.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

These stickers are very cute~ I love how colorful they are, and how there are petals to go with the flowers; although I wish they had made them as colorful to match. They definitely give me a spring vibe- I almost feel like I have to wait to use them now.

Sakura Neko Notebook

Our next item is this really pretty looking notebook, featuring a flowery kitty in soft pastels. This notebook is by Tree in Art Interiors and features a unique string binding.

There is a variety of styles this notebook comes in but as far as I know they all have blank pages. Each one is currently on sale for $4.83.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

As pretty as this is, I had a concern over how “tight“ the binding would be, by that I mean how stiff the notebook would be from it and if it would make the one side difficult to write on. It is a little bendy, but you shouldn’t try to test your luck by bending it to the point of ripping. You can shift the notebook a little, making it easier to write on the problematic side though.

By general preference, I try to avoid notebooks that have the glue binding because they are like this one. Not impossible, but they kind of get annoying to me. However, I don’t entirely hate this one, the paper is really smooth to write on. I do have some concerns the string binding could weaken over time or snag something though...

Neko Wooden Clips

For $2.73 on Blippo, we have this cute set of neko wooden clips. There is 10 in total with 5 designs. These are small clips purrfect for decorating a wall, or even if you just wanted to add a cutesy little touch to something else.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥  

The quality appears... handmade? I want to say. Like, each design has small differences if you compare two of the same. Some of the clips want to shift when using them, one of them is a bit gnarled (the kitty with the red yarn), and I noticed a tiny amount of glue on the side of one. I’m not sure if these were handmade or if its a quality issue from the factory, but I kind of like that detail. They are sturdy, and the set even includes some woven string, which I thought was a nice touch.

When I was little I loved to paint the larger variant of these at my grandmas, because of her large clothes line outside she had a whole bucket of them!

Cute Animals Pill Box & Aiko Card Purse

Next up we have these two adorable, handy-dandy, practical pink items! First is a little pill box that features 3 sections for storage, two small and one big, and a silver ballpoint chain to hang it from various things. Besides medicine or vitamins, this could also be used for other small items, like jewelry, small erasers, change/money, etc.

They have a big colorful and various shaped collection of these on Blippo. This specific one is currently $2.24.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

I use things like medication and vitamins, so this would come in handy for me if I didn’t want to bring the pill bottles or packaging wherever I went. I think it’s very adorable, and it seems pretty sturdy.

There is one very tiny issue bugging me though, you can’t see it in the picture, but I noticed the handle of the umbrella doesn’t connect to the umbrella... I’m thinking it’s a tiny oversight, but if tiny details like that bug you....

<3<

---------

We also have this exclusive Kawaii Box card purse featuring the brands mascot Aiko. It has a chain to connect it to things, but you could also put it in your pocket or just carry it. Besides having a zippered pocket it also has a slot for an ID card on the back. It’s $3.43 on Blippo right now.

Besides cards, I’m sure you could also use it for things like money

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

For being an exclusive item the quality is very good. I only found one tiny issue, this being the card slot being scratched up. I’m not sure how it happened because I kept it in the box this entire time- but it’s not a huge deal or anything, and it isn’t a hindrance.

Pastel Heart Pen & Lipstick Eraser

To go with our cute pastel notebook, we have some cute pastel stationery tools :3 First up is the Pastel Heart Pen, featuring a light pastel tube that has magic written on the side and a fancy metallic clip with a glittery winged heart on it. The cap can also be placed on the pen butt to keep it from vanishing.

There is 4 lovely pastel colors available, each is $2.03.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

It’s a typical fine-tipped pen essentially. It writes very well, it also looks cute and there is minimal smudging. I noticed that it didn’t seem to bother the notebook pages (except for a few tiny dots, residue maybe?) and I had to rub my finger over it to get anything.

--------

To go with the pen, we also get a really cute eraser shaped like a lipstick :D These must be kind of popular lately because I keep seeing them nowadays. On Blippo there is a few different sets, each with multiples to collect or choose from. This specific set is currently $2.03 on Blippo and includes 4 colors in 2 different themed designs. There is pink or peach ribbons, and blue or turquoise sail boats. 

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

I think it’s very cute and fun to look at, but in saying this... I don’t think I’ll get very much use out of it. I know it’s a waste, but I loved collecting erasers when I was younger, and the ones I really liked I hated to “ruin“ by using them (the others I ruined, punctured, tore apart, chewed on, etc).

But to be fair I did try to use a very small section of it to see how it worked. It did pretty well, but the eraser is a little wobbly, so you kind of need to be gentle with it or else you might make a mess or tear something.

Neko Dango Sakura Plushie

Of course to go with Sakura season we need an equally adorable sakura plush! Whenever people go cherry blossom viewing, dango is a popular snack item to make or purchase and enjoy while out. So this kitty was made to represent the hanami dango, featuring 2 of its 3 colors (the 3rd is green if you were curious).

There is 4 kitties available, each with slight differences in coloring style and sakura flowers. They’re also made with plush and small beans. Each costs $3.43.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

This is a perfect little cuddly representation for the season, and they feel very soft~ The stitched detail is perfect, and it sits well because of the beans in the bottom. It’s also fun to squish and squeeze.

Puchitto Fruit Grape Candy

The Puchitto Candy series is fairly popular and a long-time running series by Kracie. They all feature a pull apart fluffy gummy-type texture and a variety of fruity flavors and fun shapes. Besides just fruits, they also have stars, peach aliens, etc.

For this entire pack its 93 calores, and on Blippo its available for $2.00. Blippo gets these in on occasion, but right now they only have the grape ones in. But these are one of those “common Japanese candies“ you can find on a lot of websites. 

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

Besides being fun to play with, they have a lovely texture for anyone who doesn’t like harder, rubbery gummies. The flavor seems common grape gummy to me, but not grape medicine, and it’s not too harsh on the taste buds. But I’m not sure you would like these if you dislike grape flavors.

DIY Jewelry Magic Wand

The inner magical girl fangirl in me freaked out seeing this for the first time! Not only that but look at those gorgeous beads; they’re translucent, like gems! The piece also includes some translucent, wire-like string to use if you want.

There is 4 colored variants of this piece, but only the case and images on the packaging is different as far as I know. Each one costs $3.43 right now on Blippo.

This is only an example of what I’m making. Initially I had planned on a bracelet, but I thought it might be more fun to go for a whole necklace since I usually just make bracelets with these. Young or old, I like kits like this because they kind of force you to sit down and relax. You don’t have to think while you put them together, your brain just sort of goes on auto pilot.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Given how stressed out I’ve been this past week, this was a much needed break from all the drama surrounding us moving. I love the beads, and the clear string is nice- but that’s where I had a little concern. It’s pretty flimsy and bendy, unless you pull it tight, so I’m kind of concerned that once its tied it might end up looking cheap rather than cute. But I’m hoping that with more beads on it, the less messy it’ll look.

Also, just a side-note but I think the packaging is kind of click-baity. By that I mean it has images on it of beads not even in this set...

♥ Cutie Ranking ♥

Content - ♥ ♥ ♥ As usual, I had very tiny little detail complaints, but in general I did like the items. I loved a few of them, but I didn’t hate anything.

Price - ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ Everything comes to $27.69, which is about a dollar more than last months box. But keep in mind a handful of items were on sale, so this probably would have been closer to 30-something originally.

Theme - ♥ ♥ Only 3 really items fit the cherry blossom theme, but there was a couple of items that could fit the pink theme color often associated with it (if you got the color that is). I think in comparison to the previous one, this one dropped the ball a bit...  

Total Rank: 6 out of 10 Cuties. Items and price wise the box did good, but I had higher expectations for the theme given how well they did last month and I feel like that played a part on why this one felt a bit lackluster to me. They could have done a lot more with the theme and I wish I did because this one pretty much felt like a normal box. In fact, I had a really hard time figuring out which items I liked more than the others because it felt so... the same to me. I wish they would start coming out with some more unique items, rather than the same old stickers, stationery (not that I don’t love the pens), notepads/notebooks....

♥ Cutie Scale ♥

1. Puchitto Grape Candy - As delicious as this was, I’m a little disappointed that this ended up being my favorite item. Food/snacks shouldn’t be when you get a box like this, but...

2. DIY Jewelry Magic Wand - It’s so cute and I love looking at the pretty gem-like beads~

3. Pastel Heart Pen - It’s fairly simple but sometimes there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m just happy it can clip onto things, and the cap fits on the bottom.

4. Pill Box - It’s so cute, and pink! I definitely think I can use this, it’d definitely come in handy when we move and pack up everything.

5. Sakura Neko Notebook - While I am a little iffy about the style, I love how pretty the cover looks.

6. Neko Wooden Clips - I like their homemade quality and general cuteness. I’d really like to use these, but I don’t take very many pictures so I’ll have to think of something to do with them...

7. Sakura Stickers - Very cute and pretty. I love the gentle colors and slight 3D look. 

8. Neko Plushie - It’s small but it’s still huggable and cuddly~

9. Card Purse - Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s very cute. It has a summery feel to me so now would be a good time to use it, but I have so many of these (and so little change, and cards honestly) that getting out of the house to use it isn’t a priority right now. 

10. Lipstick Eraser - As much as I love how it looks, I put this here because I know I won’t use it. It’s to cute for me to want to use.

[paulsimpsoncmpt-blog]

15th & 16th April 2017 - A Small Hiccup

After the past 3 days spent entirely on research, I decided I’d get back to working on my font, and make a start on completing the remainder of the lower-case letters, punctuation and numbers.

I started off on Saturday by creating the lower-case a; which I’ve decided is going to be a double storey letter rather than a single storey letter. After placing  guidelines to keep stroke weights consistent, I created a pretty solid base letter. It isn’t perfect yet and will need further refinements, but for now it’s pretty good. Below is a screenshot of the lower-case a.

Next, I constructed the lower-case c. I did this in exactly the same way, placing guidelines according to the shape and placement of points and then drawing the letter based off of these guidelines. Much like the lower-case a, this lower-case c is not perfect yet, but for a first iteration, it’s pretty decent. A screenshot of the letter can be seen below.

I then had a quick look at the previous letters I’d created, the lower-case b, d, o, p, and q. I decided to adjust the inside curves of these letters to be consistent across all lower-case letters, and I also rounded off the corners of the ascenders and descenders. Screenshots of these changes can be seen below.

Lastly, I adjusted the lower-case n, in particular, rounding off the corners of the straight strokes. These changes make the letter fit in better with the other lower-case letters, but I still need to increase the weight and bring down the width of the letter to achieve true harmony between all of the lower-case letters. A screenshot of the changes can be seen below.

Late on Saturday night, in an attempt to back my work up, disaster struck. Somehow, my entire Stage 3 folder had completely disappeared off of my hard drive. Of course, I’m prepared for situations like this and had made backups of my work, unfortunately though, the last backup I’d made was on April 12th, three days ago. So on Sunday morning, I had to spend a few hours redoing all of the work I’d done over the past three days, including the work I just talked about above. Luckily, I post everything I do to my blog and keep screenshots of all my font changes, so I had things to work from, ensuring that my work would be the exact same as before.

After redoing all of my lost work, I’d found a folder of Sketchbook Notes that I’d completely forgot about. The folder contained scans of my pages from my sketchbook, as a sort of analogue to digital backup. I decided to scan the rest of my notebook pages and put them in this folder for safekeeping. Below is a screenshot of the pages in the folder.

After scanning these pages onto my computer, I went back into Glyphs and started working on my font again. First up, I created the lower-case e. The shape is pretty solid at the moment, but the negative space in the loop needs to be increased in my opinion, to achieve a balance of black and white space. I did try duplicating the lower-case a and simply flipping it, but this looked quite odd, so instead I created a lower-case e from scratch. Below is a screenshot of the letter at it’s current stage.

After creating a relatively complicated letter, I felt like a bit of an easier task. So I decided to work on the lower-case l, which is literally just a straight line of 100 em weight, with rounded corners. I can’t see this letter needing any adjustments in the near future, but I’m sure I’ll change it in some way before the deadline. Below is a screenshot of the letter.

I then moved on to constructing the lower-case f. I wasn’t entirely sure what shape I wanted to take with this letter, so I sort of winged it and ended up with a decent, legible shape. The only problem with it at the moment is that the arms appear to be at different heights, even though they’re actually the same height, so this will need to be adjusted. The curves of the letter need to adjusted too, as they don’t look quite right at the moment. Below is a screenshot of the lower-case f.

Next up, another simple shape, the lower-case i. Pretty much the same shape as the lower-case l, but with a shorter vertical stroke, and a dot on the top. Both the dot and the stroke were drawn at 100 em weight. For now, I don’t see any changes that need to be made to the letter, but again, I’m sure I’ll end up changing something before the deadline. Below is a screenshot of the lower-case i.

I then moved on to the lower-case j. Another simple-ish shape, it was pretty easy to construct, but getting it to look right is another matter. At this time, the curve at the bottom of the letter doesn’t look quite right, and will need further refinement and experimentation. Below is a screenshot of where the letter is at the moment.

The last letter I worked on today was the lower-case t. For this letter, I simply duplicated the lower-case f, flipped it vertically and brought the horizontal strokes up by 200 ems. For now the shape is pretty good, but it will need further refinements according to changes I make to other letters of similar shape. Below is a screenshot of the lower-case t.

Lastly, on Sunday evening, I read through a bit more of Lettering for Advertising; completing the chapter on the Caslon Letters, and beginning the chapter on Formal Scripts. I’ve realised now that this book isn’t 100% relevant to my project, but it does offer useful insights into the construction of letterforms, and the rules that need to be followed to achieve the highest amount of legibility and clarity. I’ll keep reading it regardless of it’s relevance, as it’s a nice way to break up the long sessions of font design.

[corpasa]

Wonder Workshop’s Amazing Dash

Education has many disruptors–3D Printing, AR and VR, 1:1 technology, STEM, and STEAM–but a recent and wildly popular one is robotics. These automated humanoid bots often interact with users, require critical thinking and problem-solving, and grab the imagination of students in ways that makes everyone want to learn. One I discovered this summer is Wonder Workshop’s collection of three robots — Cue, Dash, and Dot. I’d love to review all of them but that post would be way too long so today, I’ll focus on my current favorite: Dash.

Before I dig into Dash, let me tell you about his creator, Wonder Workshop.

What is Wonder Workshop?

Wonder Workshop is a STEM-based interactive early learning experience that introduces coding to K-5 learners and provides everything teachers require to teach coding and robotics (see below under How to Use Dash in Your Classroom). Every day, classrooms around the world demonstrate the collaboration and hands-on learning that the Wonder Workshop robots–Dash, Dot, and Cue–inspire in students. Through these robots, students learn what to many is intimidating and abstract and impossible to learn: coding,

What is Dash?

Dash is a squatty, friendly critter designed for ages six and up. It is a pyramid of spheres on wheels with a head that turns, a voice that responds to you, lights that flash, and sensors that interact with the environment. He is charged via USB and programmed via an app (iOS or Android) to move, spin circles, dance, sing, draw, or any number of other actions. It all depends upon what its child handler wants it to do.

Here’s the parts of this amazing robot:

For teachers or parents, here are a few more specs:

How do you get started?

Dash sounds pretty amazing, doesn’t he? This is why I eagerly opened my new robot as soon as he arrived (received free in return for an honest review). According to Wonder Workshop, Dash is

“…ready to go right out of the box.”

To test that claim, I simply opened the box, removed Dash, and hoped for the best. I got nervous immediately because, while the box included Dash, a charging cord, two building block connectors, and a Sketch Kit, it didn’t include directions.

  Turns out I didn’t need any. I plugged Dash in via a USB port, set him on the ground, and he took care of the rest.

First thing I noticed–besides that the critter talked to me–was that Dash felt durable, sturdy, and kid-proof. After I played around a bit–watching him roll in circles, turn his head, and chatter–I went to the App store (also available for Android) and downloaded the free apps that go with the robot. There are four main apps but I only tried two of them. First, Go, the basic programming app–a primer to discovering what Dash can do. I moved Dash around with the controls and then experimented with changing sounds, colors, even adding my own voice.

Dash’s Go app

The second app I tried is Blockly. If kids are familiar with Scratch and its fundamental drag-and-drop coding concepts, they’ll have no problem with Blockly.

The Dash Blockly app

Overall, Dash was easy to setup and quick to start. That, by the way, is one of my favorite parts of this fun little robot. In a room full of students, I can’t personally help each child get started. The idea of quick to setup and use is so critical to me that I won’t adopt new technology without it. Dash checked that box off.

How do you use Dash in your classroom?

Here are a few ideas for continuing the excitement:

Wonder Workshop Classroom.

Visit the Wonder Workshop Classroom for ideas on robotic curricula, apps, PD, and robot games. I was amazed how much is included, how differentiated the offerings for varied student learners, and how much of it ties into so many STEM lesson plans. Whatever level you are with robotics and programming, there will be something in Wonder Workshop Classroom for you. Many of the activities below are found here.

Robotics Competition

A crowd favorite among robotic enthusiasts ages 6-14 is the annual Wonder League Robotics Competition (WLRC). Teams from around the world compete virtually (and for free) to win three $5,000 STEM grant grand prizes. This is a perfect choice for students who excel at learning through games, educators who struggle with blending problem-solving and critical thinking into lessons, and teachers who want to include passion as a motivator in activities. It doesn’t get better than challenging students to learn material and then test their knowledge against the world. If I had a favorite, this would be it.

Lesson plans, curriculum and activities

Popular in the Wonder Workshop Classroom are the age-based and standards-based curricula. These inspire students of all ages to dream up new adventures while developing lifelong skills and competencies. The focus is on computational thinking and 21st-century skills so don’t worry if you aren’t a coding geek. Two general curricula I liked were Learn to Code and Applied Robotics. It’s nice that many of the lessons and activities are aligned with the Code.org curriculum and Computer Science Fundamentals.

Also available are a wide variety of lessons and activities. They’re child-oriented and high-energy with lots of options to differentiate for varied student needs.

Add-ons

One extra I received with my Dash was the Sketch Kit and a floor mat for drawing. With this add-on, students can create their own works of art by programming Dash from their mobile device to draw on the floor mat — with accuracy and control.

Another add-on that sounds interesting but I didn’t try is the Gripper Building Kit, advertised as an easy-to-construct set of functioning arms that teach about gears, ball and socket joints, and more. There is also a fun-looking Launcher tool where Dash will launch balls with precision at targets or into containers. And finally, how about adding a xylophone to your Dash, brick connectors, or Dash Challenge Cards where students learn coding by playing robot games?

Wonder Workshop PD

If you have everything unpacked and tested but want a bit of help,  Wonder Workshop Professional Development (PD) includes a vast array of ideas designed to help you master the ever-changing technology world as it applies to education  It includes courses, webinars, videos, workshops, events, and blog posts. I tried one of the workshops, “Introduction to Coding and Robotics with Dash & Dot” and found its presentation clear, easy to understand, and comprehensive.  Another one I haven’t started yet but fits my teaching needs is “Making Room for the 4 C’s”. When teachers complete the PD course, they receive a certificate of completion which appears in their Achievements at the top of their home screen.

Besides this comprehensive PD program, Wonder Workshop also offers monthly webinars. Recent topics included “Getting Started with Coding and Robotics in K-8 Classrooms”, “Inspiring STEM Learning for Young Girls: Tips from Research and the Classroom”, and “Wonder League Robotics Competition: Getting Started”. With some limitations, participants can get CE Certificates.

A special gift…

To celebrate Dash, Wonder Workshop is giving away TWO prize packages via their partner, WeAreTeachers. Winners get to choose between two amazing prize options.

Prize Option One

The Elementary Wonder Pack: Comes with Wonder’s award-winning Dash and Dot robots, accessories, and curriculum guides. Accessories, like a Xylophone, Launcher, Building Brick Connectors, Sketch Kit, and an Accessories Kit, all help students use their imagination and problem solve. Plus, it includes a one-year subscription to Wonder’s Digital Activities Library for more project ideas. New and included in the Elementary Pack: The Gripper Building Kit an easy-to-build set of functioning arms that expand your robot’s literal reach—and potential!

Prize Option Two

The Middle School Wonder Pack: This bundle will encourage design thinking with its two (2) award-winning Cue robots and the new Gripper Building Kit. Also, notebooks for creative writing, game design, and innovation. Plus, a one-year subscription to Wonder’s Digital Activities Library for more skill building for middle school students. New and included for the Middle School Pack: The Gripper Building Kit and the new Blaster Power for Cue (above) bring the fun as a motorized projectile-launching accessories!

Be sure to enter before the giveaway ends at 11:59 p.m. central standard time on August 14, 2019!

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Let me sum Dash up with one word: Wow. If you’re looking to introduce or extend programming or robotics in your classroom, there isn’t a better place to start than the friendly, versatile, intuitive Dash and his family.

More on robotics

C-STEM Studio — A Great Way to Blend Math and Robotics

How AI is Changing Writing: Check out Robot Don

Root Robotics–Great Way to Extend Hour of Code

Jacqui Murray has been teaching K-18 technology for 30 years. She is the editor/author of over a hundred tech ed resources including a K-12 technology curriculum, K-8 keyboard curriculum, K-8 Digital Citizenship curriculum. She is an adjunct professor in tech ed, Master Teacher, webmaster for four blogs, an Amazon Vine Voice, CSTA presentation reviewer, freelance journalist on tech ed topics, contributor to NEA Today and TeachHUB, and author of the tech thrillers, To Hunt a Sub and Twenty-four Days. You can find her resources at Structured Learning.

Wonder Workshop’s Amazing Dash published first on https://medium.com/@DLBusinessNow