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igniting-quill · 4 years

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korest (south korea x estonia)

Finding Solid Ground

Magical AU, early 1900s

Ship: Korest (South Korea x Estonia)

AN:

If I was a better writer (and more efficient one) I swear I could have completed this. It started as a 1K, grew to 4K, and is still incomplete! Such a frustrating thing writing is.

I am a college student taking difficult courses this semester, and to be honest a little burnt out from working on this… so unfortunately this WIP has been put on indefinite hiatus (don’t fret! I have ‘finished’ it with an ending, albeit a kind of bittersweet one. However, most of this piece has not been written and/or edited yet). For now, the story has multiple flaws: weak research, a lack of continuity, and a lack of meaningful scenes: it’s a first draft. However, I still think there’s lots of good parts in it too, plus I feel like I should respond to an ask that is like 5 months old by this point. I have peppered in Author’s Notes to supplement some of those weaknesses. The further into the piece, the more frequent AN’s will pop up. All AN’s will be inside “<” and “>” like <this>. It’s a tad cringey and reminiscent of early 2000s fic, but it’ll have to do. Anon and anyone else reading this, feel free to take what I wrote and continue it. Parts of the good in this that can get salvaged? I think it’s a rather interesting AU, and would be honored if people expanded on it. Just please make sure to credit me.

I didn’t have great world building in my writing, so this is a brief introduction. The setting? Middle of nowhere Korea, early 1900s. I have blended elements of history and fantasy. The “magic” here can either be inherent (like magical powers people are born with) or learned (Like in Harry Potter where the people have to learn spells to actually do anything as a wizard/witch). Additionally, sort of like a hunger bar in Minecraft, “magic” can run out when the magic user is tired/famished/overusing spells. There are only a few people in this AU that have magical power. Think of it as I made the Hetalia cast have magic in place of their immortality.

TL;DR: Anon, I spent a whole lot of time on this to no avail. I think I ship Korest now though.

---

The first thing Eduard saw was a night sky. Moonlight streamed through soft clouds and stars peaked behind gaps. Beautiful.

But then, a cold wind whooshed past his ears and bit into his skin. He glanced down. Then, his eyes widened in shock. The trees looked like tiny, snow-covered bushes from up here.

Teleport!

Nothing happened. Shoot. Why did his powers have to fail him now?

He flailed, his arms grasping at thin air as he plunged toward the earth and braced for impact.

“AGH!”

His right shoulder lit up in pain as it crashed into a branch. Crack. He hung there for a second, the branch swaying dangerously before it fell away from the trunk, dropping him lower.

“Oof! Gah! Eouh! Tss!”

He was out of breath by the time he landed on the frost-sprinkled forest floor. He was dazed, soaking in what just happened. The leaves and snow softened the blow of the fall, but his shoulder still stung. It didn’t help that a bit of his blood was trickling out in the snow. His head throbbed dully. He propped himself up with his arms and his glasses fell off his face.

Now the world was a blur, including the glasses themselves. He narrowed his eyes and brought the glasses up closer to his face. They were broken along the bridge, split into two halves. He brought the right lens closer. The glass had a crooked vertical gash running through it, ending with a broken rim. He picked them off the snowy ground and placed the pieces into his pocket. Slowly, gingerly, he stood up. He hobbled over to a tree and leaned against it.

“Hello?” a voice asked in the distance. Eduard blinked, trying to keep his eyes open. He shifted his head to look toward the sound, but all he saw was a blurry forest and a faint glow far away.

The last thing he remembered was the world turning to black.

---

Eduard drowsily opened his eyes to see a small room. He was in a bed with a thick comforter. It was dark, the windows showed a navy blue night outside.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a stranger walking over with a lit light source, eerily warm for being so small. That’s all Eduard could tell without his glasses. He touched his pocket, relief pouring in when he felt his eyewear. But he still felt tense. One thing was certain: this was an unfamiliar place, he had to get out of here. He tried to muster the energy to teleport, but his body stayed firmly in bed. His magic still wasn’t working it seemed.

“You’re awake.” The man noted, walking over to him.

“Who are you? Where am I?”

“I’m Yong Soo.” The other man said. Eduard narrowed his eyes, trying to make out Yong Soo’s facial features. But it was still too blurry. “I found you passed out on the forest floor and thought to bring you home. But first, no weapons please. Empty your pockets.”

Yong Soo respected him enough not to ruffle through his things. Not that Eduard had anything to defend himself with anyways. Reluctantly, he decided to take out his broken glasses. The man took them and examined the pieces.

“You better not take my glasses for long.” The threat sounded empty, even to Eduard himself, but it felt better than nothing. Being in an unfamiliar place with his blurry vision was putting him on edge.

“Don’t worry about them,” Yong Soo flippantly responded. “Now, my turn: how did you end up in this forest in the middle of nowhere?”

That question stilled him. Eduard wondered how to logically explain falling out of the sky without the use of magic.

“I… don’t know. I didn’t mean to land here. And you still haven’t told me where I am.”

Yong Soo gently placed his lantern on a nearby table. “We are kind of a new country. I do not know if you know about us, Mr. Sorcerer.”

“Sorcerer?”

“Magic user.” Yong Soo recited an incomprehensible (at least to Eduard) verse and waved his hand. The lantern slowly got brighter.

Eduard sucked in a gasp: that move was powerful. All he knew was transportation spells.

“I’m pretty sure it’s my fault you ended up here.” Yong Soo gestured with his hands, trying to describe his thoughts. “A sprinkle of magic and a bit of boredom, and… poof you’re here now. The spell I used attracts other ‘magic users’ like you and me. I was trying to get my brother, but looks like I can’t get to him for some reason” He sighed, as if he had something more to say but didn’t have the words. “Anyways, I am sorry for barging into your life. Hope that this somewhat makes up for your fall.”

Yong Soo grabbed ahold of Eduard’s hand. Lightly, he nudged Eduard’s fingers so that the palm of his hand would face up. With a flick of the wrist, he produced fully fixed glasses and laid them between Eduard’s thumb and pointer finger.

“Woah...” Eduard whispered in disbelief, examining Yong Soo’s work. There were spells of all kinds, but he never saw one that ever smoothly put objects back together like this. He put his glasses on and looked at Yong Soo. His blurry vision became sharp.

The clothes Yong Soo was wearing were so different from the stuff back home. Eduard didn’t have the vocabulary to describe them. He wore something akin to a dress, and the waistline was high, right under the chest. The top of the outfit had long sleeves that were wide, hanging down instead of staying tight around the wrist. He also held a thick book in one hand, part of it hidden under the sleeves.

The light from his lantern lit him up so that his pale beige skin contrasted with the darkness of the room. Dark brown eyes and ink black hair, a flyaway curl sticking out the side. An Eastern Asian man. There was a happy smirk on his face, one that triumphantly proclaimed that he succeeded in fixing the glasses.

“Just a simple little time reversal spell” He tapped on the edge of the frames for emphasis, and Eduard pushed his glasses back up with a huff. “Keep those safe, they’re expensive.”

“Now could you please tell me where on Earth I am? I know I’m not at home.”

“Korea. A bit ago we were Joseon. Now, what’s your name traveler?”

“Eduard.” he paused, trying to grasp everything that was happening. First things first: “How long has it been since I got knocked out?”

“A few days.”

“Shoot.” Eduard sat up and got out from the covers, ignoring the sting from his right shoulder. “I’ve got to go. Back. You know. Before I got transported to this place.” He tried to muster up the energy to teleport out, but, ever frustratingly, his body still didn’t budge.

“Well. How do you even begin doing that?”

“If I could just…” Eduard concentrated, envisioning his home, and pulling himself mentally closer. But nothing happened. Eduard inwardly groaned.

“Okay there?”

“You don’t understand.” Eduard grumbled, trying to avoid worsening his wounds as he shuffled back under the covers. “Before I teleported, I was writing up this article. I’m part of a team attempting to get an Estonian newspaper off the ground. And well, it’s important to me for my article through… that sounds odd but let me put it this way. Though it may sound simple, it could propel us to become our sovereign nation! Independence, that’s something that has been a rarity. And with all the Russification going on, it’s been rough going.”

Eduard paused. “Wait a second, how the hell are you speaking Estonian?”

“When I saw that you were European,” Yong Soo showcased the thick book he was holding, “I used up my resources. I searched up a spell that would break a language barrier. Unfortunately, due to my own lack of language skills, I wasn’t able to understand that deciphers written words unfortunately. Then it would be easier to read this damn thing”

Eduard looked toward Yong Soo’s spell book. He recognized the Latin letters, but not the language of the script. “Now where’d you get this from?”

“I got it from a... ” He hesitated, “An acquaintance. From out East, Japan. And he got it from a British guy. My acquaintance is not on good terms with magic, even if he was once enthralled by it, and so I bought it from him.”

Eduard heard rumors of a strong British sorcery. The spell should be pretty good.

Yong Soo kept going. “It was a good choice too. I have translated some spells in here and they are the only things keeping me from going bonkers. I isolated myself in the middle-of-no-where after all. Turns out it’s good to have a companion, even if that companion is a book.”

Eduard looked at the spell book, intrigued. “Since I can’t go back home anyways, should I test to see how well your spell holds up?

“Aren’t you already doing so? With, um, Estonian, right?”

“Well, if I *speak Russian you’ll understand me?*”

Yong Soo nodded. “Your accent changed a bit though.”

“And, *if I stretch it… do you understand some broken German?*”

“I do.”

“How about-”

“Hold on. How do you know so many languages?”

Eduard frowned a bit, pausing to understand what Yong Soo was asking. “I’m a polyglot.”

“Yeah, I just so happen to be a polyglot too. But I learned about other languages out of necessity. I used to have a life of splendor, politics, and drama.” He pointed out the window. “I took a break from that by moving to a place with more trees instead of people. Right here. Now, what… ‘normal’ man would be that talented? There has got to be a driving factor.”

Would it hurt to tell this Korean man about his life? If Eduard teleported out of here as soon as he could, it couldn’t do damage. “I told you earlier, I work for a newspaper. Using language, even other languages too, are my thing. At the same time, polyglots aren’t rare back home. I guess that’s what I get for being born into a place that got bulldozed over by neighboring powers continuously. The place gets pretty bi and multilingual. Other languages get impressed onto us.”

“By… ‘Us?’ You mean, ‘Estonians?’ Of a country that doesn’t exist?”

“Yes.” Eduard said it with finality.

The Korean man seemed to be mulling over the words, unease spreading over his expression. “I wonder...” Yong Soo stopped abruptly. He walked over to a makeshift kitchen area. “I wonder if you like pickled, spicy food.” He beckoned Eduard to come over too.

“Pickled, yes. Spicy, no. Plus, I told you I have to go back home somehow, even if it is too late.”

Yong Soo looked at Eduard with a knowing glint in his eye. “If you could teleport back now, you would have already.”

“You’re not wrong.” Eduard gestured towards Yong Soo’s hands. “But, you also have a spellbook in your hands. If you really wanted to help, you would have given me a magic boost. I would have been on the way.”

Yong Soo frowned. “I don’t even think there’s a spell for a magic boost. I could be wrong though. I got this book very recently and only a few spells have been translated.”

“That means?”

“Considering the fact that you being here is the combination of both my magic power and yours, it seems like the way back is if I incorporate my magic with yours once more. Unless you can teleport for long distances, you’ll have to stay here with me.”

Eduard felt his heart plunge. They were quiet after that statement.

<AN: Eduard has a hard time dealing with this new reality that he has to stay in an unfamiliar place. I didn’t give enough breathing room to write his experience with that.>

Yong Soo pointed toward a dish on the table. “I’ve got some cabbage-based kimchi. I have been living on this stuff for months here in the middle of nowhere.”

Eduard walked over to the table, looking over the unfamiliar food. “What are... these?” He tapped on a small porcelain bowl filled with cooked white grains. Then he gestured to two evenly shaped straight sticks, each about the size of a rectangular-ish, thinner, flatter pen.

“A bowl of rice and chopsticks. Of course.”

Eduard searched around. “You don’t have forks?”

Yong Soo looked up at Eduard and a tangible pause lingered in the air. “Ah. You don’t know how to use chopsticks, do you?”

Eduard crossed his arms. “Look, I appreciate this, but I can’t even eat the food you’re offering me.”

“Well,” Yong Soo took the chopsticks for himself, showcasing how they were used. “I could teach you.”

Eduard’s stomach growled, as if on cue. He sighed, grabbed the chopsticks, and looked up at Yong Soo. “Well then. I guess I’ll have to learn.”

“First of all, you're holding it wrong.” Yong Soo picked up his own pair and let Eduard see his hand. “You raise and lower the top chopstick. And then you can do this.” He grabbed a piece of the cabbage kimchi and lifted it over to his bowl of rice.

Eduard fidgeted with his hand. He tried to ignore the feeling of embarrassment while trying to get a semblance of the position.

Yong Soo let go of his chopsticks and leaned forward. He guided Eduard’s hand to the right position. He backed up after he was satisfied. “Now try it. Move the chopstick above up and down.”

Eduard tried to focus on his shaky hands. He slowly nudged the chopstick up, but then the lower one clattered onto the table. Yong Soo smothered a giggle.

“Hey, hey now. I’m a beginner.”

“I know, I know.” Yong Soo smiled at Eduard and handed him the fallen chopstick. “Try again.”

Eduard eventually got the hang of the chopsticks. He tasted a bit of the food, gritting his teeth at the unfamiliar taste of kimchi.

<AN: Yong Soo insisted it was a very common Korean staple, and concluded that Eduard just had a low spice tolerance for the red chili pepper.>

---

“You know what? I think I’ve rested for a couple of days, I should try a simple transportation trick. Transporting objects and people are my inherent abilities.”

“I say go for it.”

Eduard laid his chopsticks on the table and shook out his arms. Then, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the chopsticks, making sure to stay a bit away from them. “Come to me now…”

The chopsticks vanished in a shower of sparkles. Eduard looked toward his hand expectantly. They didn’t appear.

“Oof!”

A disgruntled Yong Soo pulled the chopsticks out of his hair. He handed them to Eduard. “They tumbled from the ceiling and ran into me.”

“Are you okay?”

Yong Soo rubbed his head and then cracked up in laughter, “I don’t know about you, but I think you need to rest a bit more.” He tapped on the thick spellbook, “Maybe we can look through this together in the meantime.”

“Sounds fine by me.”

---

<AN: Brief continuity error below.>

“There’s something that’s been weighing on my mind Yong Soo. I normally travel short distances. How the hell will I get back home to Estonia?”

“You could make pit stops?”

“Not everyone is as hospitable as you, Yong Soo. Who knows what situation I could end up in.” He sighed, closing his eyes, taking off his glasses, and placing his head in his hand. “I've already been gone for awhile now. If I go back, I’ll get lost and be gone for good.”

Yong Soo looked up, at least that’s what Eduard could tell from his blurry vision, and stretched out his arms. “Well I am trying to work through this spell book to help you.”

“How are you translating it? Can you read English?”

“What do you mean?”

Eduard put his glasses back on and pointed at the spellbook. “The book’s in English, right? You said it was originally from a British sorcerer. I’m wondering if you can read it.”

“I can’t, not really well. But I did get my hands on this dictionary: English to Korean.” He lifted up a second, smaller book for Eduard to see. “I wrote a few notes for myself in the margins.” He pointed toward some notes on the sides. “English… is very different from what I know. Letters versus characters. It’s hard to decipher the text.” Yong Soo gave him a tired look, “You’re lucky, you know that? This dictionary was a really hard find. Without it you’d be stuck here with me until you walk to a port on foot and find a boat headed to Europe. The process is still extraordinarily slow, and I don’t know the vast majority of spells in here at all.” He looked back down to his book.

“Thank you for all this work you’re putting in for me. As a speaker of many European languages, maybe I could help?”

Yong Soo considered it and opened the spell book and the dictionary for Eduard to see. “Why not.”

<AN: they look over the spell book and determine which spells would be useful. This is a process that is tedious but rewarding.>

---

It was an abnormally warm winter night, so the two men decided to head outside and make a campfire. After all, it was brighter than a candlelit room with small windows. Out here, they had the stars and the moon too. Yong Soo clutched his spell book and wrote in the margins while Eduard semi-deciphered the word and matched it up in the dictionary.

<AN: they get in a fight over something which gets somewhat physical, the dictionary (I was also considering the spell book?) slips into the campfire and burns up to a crisp. Imagine like a super comical, ‘keep the book up in the air like a volleyball’ shenanigans before it falls straight into the fire>

Eduard sat down, stunned. “I’ve solidified my own fate. I’m going to be stuck here forever. Shit.”

It was quiet except for the sound of a crackling fire. The two men started as the flames ate up the last of the pages.

“Maybe… maybe… how did you get that dictionary in the first place? What if we try that pathway again.”

Yong Soo mulled over the question before answering. “No that’s impossible. I got it through farway political connections.”

Eduard raised an eyebrow. “With a friend from Japan too?”

“Not friend. Acquaintance, and no it is not from him” He sighed and looked Eduard dead in the eye. “There’s no reason to hide the truth to you about it if we live in the middle of nowhere. Royalty: emperors and all. I used to work for them. Sort of. There’s a lot of things I can do with my inherent ability… I fixed your glasses with it. Mostly I fixed things there too: both physical and politically. In my free time I would make my own little inventions, tinkering with objects, and rewinding their physical state when I really messed up. But I was also a political advisor type. That’s where I really screwed up. Sadly my time spell doesn’t fix everything: it does not work well at all with organic matter for example. I left. I usually have some control over situations, with magic and all, but yet there I felt powerless. I feel like I ran away from it all.”

<AN: I wish I got more details as to what sort of role Yong Soo would play in an Emperor's palace. But I didn’t do my research and frankly don’t know what he would do.>

<AN: This scene, where the two stare at this fire, is supposed to be a tender, shippable moment: people at their lowest bonding. Talk about YS’s background with Korean Royalty/government. YS’s fears are shown, he’s being vulnerable and talks a bit about his worries. Like Korea being smothered by its neighbors of China (Qing Empire) and Japan, at this point in history, leaning toward the latter. Eduard comforts him, and talks about his own life experience, like how Estonia doesn’t have that sweet sweet independence but it could come (ahem foreshadowing 1918). After the tender moment, with the power of teamwork, YS uses his time-manipulation-on-objects ability and Eduard uses his transportation ability to bring back the dictionary. The logistics behind it have something to do with the fire being extinguished, the ashes being clumped together, lots of back and forth, before they legit reverse a chemical reaction. They are tired out afterwards but satisfied dammit. >

---

<AN: There’s a scene in which they learn each other's languages. It’s cute, it’s quirky, and they bond. I’m in no place to implement this because I don’t know Korean or Estonian. A few more sessions of meeting up later, or maybe even in this section, they figure out a mix of spells that can get Eduard to go home.>

---

It was time.

The morning was quiet. Eduard looked out the window at the woods. The landscape was dusted with snowflakes. He wore his original clothes, no use of borrowing a hanbok now that he was heading back. Yong Soo joined him next to the window. He scooted closer till their shoulders touched. Despite how cold it was, Eduard felt warm.

“I can’t believe we did it.” He said, looking over to his Korean companion. “Thank you.”

“To think-” Yong Soo shifted, and Eduard turned to look.

Yong Soo closed his eyes and leaned forward a tad, his bangs shifting to cover his face.

“Okay there?”

“Yeah.” He sucked in a breath and composed himself. “Before you go…” He handed Eduard a piece of paper covered with beautiful strokes of black calligraphy.

“I haven’t learned these characters yet. What does it say?”

“My name. Three characters read from top to bottom.” He pointed to the very top. “Im,” to the middle, “Yong,” to the last, “Soo. 임.용.수.”

He pulled out another piece of paper for Eduard and a calligraphy pen. “Write your name down now.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to forget you.”

He looked Yong Soo in the eye, forlorn dark brown irises glancing back. He felt a sob rise in his chest and pushed it down.

Eduard broke eye contact, and signed his full name on the blank sheet of paper. He handed it to Yong Soo.

“Hold my hand, will you?”

He spread his fingers across the palm of Eduard’s hand. Yong Soo’s sleeve covered up their touch, but Eduard could feel their fingers lacing together. A solid grasp, and Eduard felt fulfilled and broken all at once. When he went home, could he ever feel this intact again?

“I don’t think I could forget you if I wanted to.”

“Write to me?” Eduard smiled despite the regret that he felt, swirling in his body. “I still need to learn that Korean.”

Despite his sad expression, Yong Soo broke into a smile. “Definitely.”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” Yong Soo let go of Eduard’s hand and stood back, flipping through the spell book in preparation. “In a time where I felt distant from the rest of the world, you were my solid ground.”

“I’ll miss you,” Eduard whispered. He closed his eyes.

Before teleporting away, Eduard heard a faint murmur in response. “I’ll miss you too.”

---

Footnotes:

“An acquaintance. From Japan. And he got it from a British guy. My acquaintance is not on good terms with magic, even if he was once enthralled by it, and so I bought it from him.”

I have long strayed from the Hetalia canon, but this is influenced by those episodes where hws Japan couldn’t see the magic-spirit-types in the hot springs but hws England could.

“At the same time, polyglots aren’t rare back home.“

I have no idea if this is true, but I would think it would be. At least in modern times, it seems as if there's some sort of forced bilingualism that people from small countries that deal with. In this case, for an educated man like Eduard, I think knowledge of other languages (Russian for example) would be very helpful.

“I wonder if you like pickled, spicy food.” He beckoned Eduard to come over too./“Pickled, yes. Spicy, no.”

I was going to have this be a whole bit. About culture comparison and stuff! Turns out, as someone who is neither Estonian or Korean with very little motivation to read through a wiki page, I didn’t have enough content to implement my idea.

“But I was also a political advisor type. That’s where I really screwed up. Sadly my time spell doesn’t fix everything: it does not work well at all with organic matter for example. I left. I usually have some control over situations, with magic and all, but yet there I felt powerless.”

His mess up refers assassination of Queen Min aka Empress Myeingseong. I’m debating whether to keep this part in at all because it’s rather horrible to add things in with little research yet I keep doing it.

Thank you to @/alfredtalia for giving me insight into Yong Soo’s name. If your interested, here’s the link to the post.

There’s probably more that I could write here. I’m fine with discussing unanswered questions about this fic thru tumblr asks.

Thank you for reading this long long post!

#hws korea #hws south korea #hws estonia #hws korest #korest #hetalia #hws #hetalia south korea #hetalia estonia #hetalia korest #hetalia fanfiction #my writing #hetalia au #thanks for asking!#For the rest of the asks if I have time I'll squeeze in small blurbs #finding solid ground

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bates--boy · 3 years

Text

Shortly after the final bows, after the applause died down and the theatre went silent and dark, Naseem shot out a group text message.

[SMS: Naseem] yoooo our boy did it! we partying 2nite!

Naseem’s phone pings with text messages flooding with congratulations. Unfortunately, with both the baby and his big sister crying in her ear, Ashari couldn’t come. But Mike, Tarsha, and Adel are game, meeting up with Pete and Naseem back at the diner that tolerated their previous rendezvous.

Beer, chips, dip -- much like in the play that Peter finally, finally, had a starring role in, and the glory of it sang through his blood as he shoveled chips heavy with sour cream and chives into his mouth. And as he washed it down with his drink, Naseem clapped between his shoulders.

“You guys should have seen it, he was perfect!” Naseem said. “He had it all down pat! Flow, rhythm, cadence, it was--!” He kissed the tips of his fingers.

“Can’t wait to finally be able to see it,” Adel said, reaching for the bowl of chips.

“Yeah, man, me, too.” Tarsha frowned down at the table, twirling her bottle around. “Sorry we keep missing it. Wish I didn’t have this stupid legal shit going on.”

Peter set his bottle down and shrugged. “Eh, no worries. The video should be up in a couple months.”

“’Til then,” Mike said from behind the back of his hand, wiping at the bit of foam at the corner of his mouth, “I wanna see how good you got. Take something back to the Big Guy at the ring. You got anything for me?”

Peter nibbled at the corner of his lip and looked at Naseem, who slowed his chewing as he met Peter’s eyes. He gestured for Peter to go on, and Peter reached down to dig out his notepad from his messenger bag.

Straightening up and flipping through the pages, Peter stated, “I have a few lines here and there. Not really whole songs, but a start.”

“Let’s hear it,” Mike said. He set his empty bottle aside and crossed his arms on the table, leaning forward. Adel and Tarsha also watched, Tarsha holding her bottle and Adel setting his chin into his hand.

Peter cleared his throat and lied the notepad flat on the table. “Right...!” He drew on the energy of post-show bliss to still the nerves. No jitters. No doubt. He started beating on the table, a bmp-pap,bmp-bmp-bmp-pap of his fist and open palm.

Keep ya sis away from me, or she’ll be soda Get her cherry popped Give her a l’il sip she won’t wanna stop Then clean my teeth, cuz I gotta keep it minty fresh For those sponsorships from Colgate and Crest Gotta tie ya name brand to tha best And get them stacks Like I got ya Mama and ya girl on their backs

“And that’s all...I...” Peter then noticed the silence that hung over the table, the struggling smiles and widen eyes. “...have.. so far...”

Mike blinked, staring into the table just like Adel was, and slowly shaking his head. “Wow, that was... that was something...”

Tarsha covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my god, this baby is a virgin...” Peter could still hear her giggle.

“I--!” Peter started to protest.

“Agh, geez, Peter...” Naseem groaned. Peter glanced at him to find Naseem folding his hands over his face. “That’s... I’m sorry, man, that’s just trash.”

If steam could materialize out of Peter’s body, there would have been huffs of it blowing out of his nose as he shoved his notepad into his back pocket and snatched up his bottle. “It’s a fucking first draft.”

“I don’t know how many drafts can fix that, bruh,” Mike said, still looking down at the table, though his body took to shaking in a laugh that was barely contained.

Peter folded his arms on the table, his face hardened and pink. “Forget it.”

“Awww, don’t pout, baby!” Tarsha cooed. She reached over and patted Peter’s arm. “You got something there! It jussss ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

And Peter’s face hardened further, eyes kept forcefully away from the woman as she bent over the table and wrapped her arm around her stomach.

“Whatever! Just forget it!” And Peter grabbed a handful of chips to stuff into his mouth.

Naseem lowered his hands and lied the palms flat down. “...Okay, so maybe some of the lessons didn’t take. You still did good onstage, and that’s what we were focusing on, anyway.”

And there was something about Naseem’s statement that had Peter wishing that his mentor would just laugh it off instead; have his shits and giggles like Tarsha was before she managed to calm herself. It seemed so... dismissive, despite it being an attempt at consoling. “I can... I’m gonna work on it some more. It’s just a rough draft.”

“I know, Pete, I know.” Naseem raised his hand to beckon the waiter over. “How about some cake? I could go for some cheesecake.”

Peter jerked a shoulder. “Whatever.”

Adel scrunched his face, then looked up at Peter, confusion narrowing his eyes. “’Or she’ll be soda’?”

It took three rounds of cake to repair Peter’s ego before they had to call it a night. With the box of leftover cake slices on his lap, Peter sat with Naseem in the mostly empty parking lot. He stared into the darkness that swallowed his feet, the place where the streetlight above them couldn’t reach.

“...Mike’s not gonna let me in that rap royale, isn’t he?” Peter mumbled.

Naseem shrugged and shook his head. “Not anytime soon, at least.” He turned to Peter. “What was that? Aren’t you reading the books Sheer gave you? Or listening to the music I told you about?”

“I am! Oh, my god, that is what I literally read and listen to every day!” Peter groaned.

“Then what--” Naseem gestured, his hands jerking aimlessly.

“A... rough draft?” Peter tried once more.

Quiet filled the car, with Naseem staring out into the windshield and shaking his tilted head. “...Are there any more?”

“...Yeah.”

Naseem held his hand out to his passenger. “Lemme see.”

Peter reached behind himself and pulled out the notepad. He handed it over and slumped back into his seat. He watched from the corner of his eye as Naseem’s face stretched, twisted, scrunched, his head still shaking and his mouth moving silently, but in a way that Peter knew was one disapproval after the other.

By the time Naseem was finished and handed the notepad back, his face settled on the narrow-eyed scowl of the neutrally unimpressed.

“Alright, Chief,” Peter began as she shoved the notepad back into his pocket. “What’s the diagnosis?”

“I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but you just flew allllll the way back to square one,” Naseem said. "I think you... regressed... because that’s the only thing you know. For someone who’s up for anything, you get scared venturing into something more meaningful. This empty, crotch-grabbing, pants-sagging shit is too easy. And not you. You can do better than this.”

Peter pursed his lips and toyed with the edge of the cake box. “Okay, fine then. Let’s say that’s true. What do you supposed I do?”

“Write what you know.”

Peter snorted. “Wow, that won’t make for many songs, I’m afraid.”

“Well...” Naseem slid the key into the ignition and started the car. “Then crack open a book and learn, little grasshopper.”

#life thus far ( story )#droid noodles ( writing )#hetalia

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bunny-hoodlum · 4 years

Note

LOVE YOU! Like your work is aaaagggghhh. You make me feel things dude! Now come the (probably, but I really hope not) annoying part. Could you please please llease eork on 21 days again? I reread it like 3 times in the last month. Im kinda obsessed. Ok sorry for bothering you. May your life have you feeling like how your fics make me feel

Ps. I mean amazing

Omigosh! O ///// O <33333 I love getting comments like these! I’m so hard on myself when it comes to technical ability, but like, making my audience FEEL is what I live for. It’s why I do anything creative. It’s like, my purpose in life! I feel so successful, fr! <333

AGH! Yes, I’m pumped! And you reread it that much?!!! XD

It’s no bother asking me when I’m updating, I even ask myself this question to be honest. :( There were a good 3 or so months that I kept at it nonstop, and as a result I have maybe 15 or so diff rough drafts (and 38+ files in total because all the ‘darlings’ I’ve killed), and they’re just sitting on my drive untouched for months. :( Nothing I’ve written has felt quite right, and I haven’t figured out why yet, but I haven’t stopped thinking about “21 Days”, and I do want to update it. I just need to figure out what the rough draft is actually going to be. I mean, I do have base ideas laid out, it’s just been every time I wrote it out, it didn’t seem good enough. :\ I figured the story would summon me back to the keyboard when the time came. ^_^;;

Thank you so much for your lovely readership, I love that you love my story, hehe! <3

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anne-white-star · 4 years

Text

Young Jon pertwee x waitress!reader

Notes: reader is a waitress jon saves her from a scary situation and more will happen read to find out😊

Please ignore any spelling mistakes thank you 😊

There are hystorical mistakes im sorry about that i tried my best

Warnings : cursing nothing bad or explisit

Words : 2067

It was 1947 2 years After the war of 1945 people wer trying to pick back up their lives. A lot of buildings were destroyed many people died, lots of people fled and fought the war it was a big chaos the last 5 years, but things were calm now.

Jon pertwee came back home from the war after serving as a marine in the navy on the HMS Hood also in the ww2 many of his men died one of the only survivers of his group was him and Ian Fleming. (I hope i got it corect if not my excuses)

"Hey jon! How are you doing mate?" Jon turnd around at the mention of his name.

"Oh hey ian, it has been a few years" jon grabed his hand and shook it "im doing fine how about you?".

"im doing alright, im just trying to pick my life back up you?" They started to walk next to echother.

"Yes me to the past years have been really tough" as they both crossed the street jon his eyes fell on a bar/restaurant/pub "shall we go get a beer? Than we talk further".

"Sounds good im always if for a cold beer" ian laught

Walking in they were greated by lots of men sitting and drinking their fill, waitresses were serving food the bar tender was filling their beer mug. And there were a few cooks in the back prepairing some food. They sat down at a table and a women walked up to them.

"Hello welkom to the fox and hounds my name is y/n and i will be your waitress this afternoon would you like to eat or drink something?" She grabed a pen and note book out of her apron ready to Wright down their order. (The Fox & Hounds is locaded at 29 Passmore St, Belgravia, London SW1W 8HR, not far from jon his old home at 66 Chester Row it was build around 1960 but lets pretend its older)

"Umm yes" jon looked at the menu

"I'll take a pint" ian said

"I take one as wel"

Y/n looked up from her note book "anything ells?"

"No this is fine" jon smiled at the women

"Alright two pints coming up" she walked back to the bar to get them

"Are you starting to like her don't you?" Ian asked

"What?"

"I saw the way you looked at her"

"Oh be quiet you" jon punched his shoulder while grining

"So here you go two pints that be 2s 4d"( its origanaly 1s 2d im not british i Googled it but i really don't know how this works it was after the war) she smiled and put them down on the table before them

"Here you go i pay for both of us" ian said to her and smiled

Y/n took the money from the table and put it in her apron

Jon started to drink his beer and they talked with echoter for about 30 minuts when

"Hey let me go aaahhh!!!"

They both turned around to look where the scream came from, when they turned around they saw y/n being hold back with a gun pointed to her head

"Give me all the money out the register or the pretty girl will pay with her life"

"Please let me go" she asked while crying softly

Jon put his beer mug back down on the table and stood up "let the girl go"

"Hmpf" "what are you going to....." the man was caught of guard by jon punching him in the face "agh!! you fucking cunt!" the gun fell out of his hand and His hands flew to his nose. Jon grabed the gun from the ground and went to stand in between y/n and the man.

"Now put your hands up turn around and face the wall" jon pointed the gun in the back of the man "someone call the police"

Ian walked up to y/n and sat next to her on the ground "are you alright?"

"Yeah yeah im fine..... i just need a moment" *sigh*

About 30 minuts later Two police officers stept in "Good afternoon we got a call for a attempt of robbery and a hostage"

"Yes sirs here he is" jon said while still pointing his gun at the man.

"Alright we take it from here thank you so mutch for keeping him under controle" one of the police man took handcuffs and arested the man.

"Also here is his gun" jon gave it to the other officer

"Thank you sir, we will take care of all this".

After the police officers took the man away jon turned to y/n sitting on the ground with a blanked over her shoulders. "how are you feeling?"

"Im feeling better now thank you" *sigh* "i just feel a bit scared now to get home"

"Where do you life?"

"About 30 minuts away but i have to be at work tomorow"

"If you want you can stay at my home i don't live far from the restaurant"

"That would be Nice sir"

"Oh please don't be so formal just call me jon"

"Thank you jon" y/n smiled at him.

Ian had been gone for a few hours after the insedent, after y/n her shift they walked to jon's house

"So this is my place" jon unlocked the door and let her in. "Make yourself at home"

"Its quite lovely" she looked around, y/n put her bag down and hung her coat on the coat rack.

"You must be hugry" jon said while walking to the kitchen "what would you like?"

"Hmm is (favorite food) alright?"

Jon laught "sure but i don't know how to make that, perhaps you could help me?"

"Of course i will help you jon its the least i can do" she went to stand next to him.

After they were done preparing the food they both sat down and started to eat

"Hmm this tastes great"

"Im glad you like it jon"

When they were done with eating their food y/n went to prepare herself for bed "where can i sleep jon?"

"you can take the bed y/n i'll take the coutch"

"Are you sure?"

"Its fine don't worry, good night dear"

"Good night".

The next morning both jon and y/n had breakfast with echoter and talked about all kinds of stuff

"i can't thank you enough for helping me out yesterday"

"Oh its nothig i dealed with worse"

"You fought in the war din't you?"

"Unfortanetly yes" jon looked down sadly "so many died, i lost a lot of comerats in battle"

Y/n grabed his hand softly in hers "Im so sorry, that you had to go trough that jon"

Jon smiled at her "Its alright I only hope this never happens again"

Y/n looked at the clock "oh goodness i have to get ready my shift starts in an hour" she stood up and went to get ready for work.

The few days that y/n had to work she would sleep the nights at jon's house so that she could be at work on time when she had off from work y/n would go back to her own home. Jon had to admid the days when she wasn't there during the late afternoon and diner it was quite lonley, but the days she was at his house they enjoyed cooking, reading and playing games to pass the time.

6 months had passed sinds the incedent at the fox and hounds and y/n and jon got very close with echoter they became great Friends even to the point that they both fell in love with one another but both din't know it that they were.

"Hey jon in a few days there will be music at the fox and hounds and i was wondering if you would like to go with me?"

"Sure it sounds like fun"

The evening came around and people were dressed up formal y/n was wearing a long black dress with long white gloves and golden wristbands plus a pearl necklace around her nek her hair was in pretty waves down her back. They were enjoying them selfs when the bar tender came up to y/n

"Y/n can i talk to you for a moment"

"Alright sure, i be back in a few minuts jon" they both walked to the back of the restaurant "whats wrong?"

"Wel i got the news that the last person who was suposed to sing could't come because their car broke down"

"Oh no what are we going to do"

"Cant you go up there?"

"What me? Really?"

"Yes you, i have heared you sing something while being in the back your voice is very pretty y/n"

"Hmm... Alright i'll do it"

"Thank you y/n you are a life saver"

About 30 minuts later it was time for her to come one the stage

"Ladys and gentelmen may i have your atention for the last act y/n y/l/n"

(Play the song from here if you want)

🎶He was a famous trumpet man from old Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

He's in the army now, a-blowin' Reveille

He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B

A-toot, a-toot, a-toot-diddelyada🎶

Y/n looked over the crowd trying to find jon

🎶Ai, ai, ai, ai, ai

Have you ever danced in the tropics?

Well that girl's a fool

With the Gaucho?????

Of the South American way, hey!

Ai, ai, ai, ai. ai

Could you have ever kissed in the moon light

If you never kissed

Who knows what you've missed

In the South American Way🎶

Again looking around she still could't spot him

🎶Bei mir bist du schoen

Please let me explain

Bie mir bist du schoen means you're grand

Bei mir bist du schoen

Again I'll explain

It means you're the fairest in the land

I could say "bella, bella"

Even say "wunderbar"

Each language only helps me tell you

How grand you are

I'll try to explain

Bei mir bist du schoen

So kiss me and say you'll understand🎶

"Okay guys, grab your gal and hit the floor

'Cos here's that beat you've been waiting to swing to" said the bar tender to the crowd of people

🎶Who's the lovin' daddy with the beautiful eyes

What a pair o' lips, I'd like to try 'em for size

I'll just tell him, "Baby, won't you swing it with me"

Hope he tells me, "Baby, what a wing it will be"

So, I said politely "Darlin' may I intrude"

He said "Don't keep me waitin' when I'm in the mood"

In the mood

It didn't take me long to say "I'm in the mood now🎶

She finaly spoted him in the crowd he was looking at her with a dreamy look.

🎶If you ever go down Trinidad

They make you feel so very glad

Calypso sing and make up rhyme

Guarantee you one real good fine time

Drinkin' rum and Coca-Cola

Go down Point Koomahnah

Both mother and daughter

Workin' for the Yankee dollar🎶

🎶Oh, Tico Tico, tick

Oh, Tico Tico, tock

This Tico Tico, he's the cuckoo in my clock

And when he says "Cuckoo"

He means it's time to woo

It's Tico time for all the lovers in the block

I've got a heavy date

A tete-a-tete at eight

So speak, oh Tico, tell me is it getting late?

If I'm on time, cuckoo

But, if I'm late, woo woo

The one my heart is gone to may not want to wait🎶

🎶In Spain they say "Si, si"

In France you hear "Oui, oui"

Ev'ry little Dutch girl says "Ya, ya"

Ev'ry little Russian says "Da, da"

La-la-la-la-da-da-da-da

Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da

Da-da-da-de-de-da-da

De-da-da-da-da-da-da-da🎶

When the song was over people clapped and cheered for her performance. Jon walked up the stairs of the podium.

"That was amazing y/n i din't know you could sing so wel"

"Thank you jon it means a lot" y/n smiled

"I want to ask you a question y/n"

"Yes jon go ahead"

"Would you like to be My girlfriend?"

"I would love to"

Jon kissed y/n a top of her head knowing that this women wil be a great joy in his live.

The end

I hope you all enjoyed reading 😊

#doctor who #third doctor #jon pertwee #3rd doctor #classic who #classic doctor who #third doctor x reader #jon pertwee x reader #young jon pertwee #Spotify

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demiboydemon · 5 years

Text

Iroh’s Gourmet Teas and Teapots

What if Zuko had stopped chasing the avatar sooner? What if he realized that his father was oppressive, and that the only one who could restore his honor was himself?

Notes:

I’ve had this in my drafts for almost a year now, and I finally decided to stop nitpicking the details and post it.

Zuko sighed contently. It had been exactly one year since his banishment, and six months since he had stopped caring.

His uncle had been a big help in making Zuko realize that the whole avatar thing was a wild goose chase. He had been upset at first, but then he realized that Iroh was right. It was a wild goose chase.

Even if it was possible to find the avatar, why would he want to?

It’s not like Zuko wanted to rejoin the fire nation. Iroh has made him realize that, too. He was much happier without Azula or his father. The fire nation was oppressive, and he was better off being banished. Ever since his mother had died, his home had become a house of abuse and painful memories. Azula was the golden child, and Zuko..... Well, Zuko was closer to flying buffalo dung in his father’s eyes.

After he decided he was done chasing the avatar for his father, Zuko felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He had never felt so free.

Even when Zuko heard about the avatar being found in an iceberg, he stayed out of it. He was busy working in his uncle’s tea shop.

It was a cute, small shop, built into the ship that had once belonged to the fire nation. Now it belonged to Iroh’s Gourmet Teas and Teapots, a quaint shop in an Earth bender colony, one that hadn’t been overtaken by the fire nation.

It was a nice life, not being involved in his father’s pointless war. Being free to be himself without the fear of not being enough. He had a peaceful life.

The ladies were all over Zuko, but he wasn’t interested, no matter how much his uncle tried to get him to get a girlfriend. He wasn’t sure if he wanted a boyfriend instead, or if he’d rather be single, or if he just hadn’t met the right woman yet, but he didn’t really care.

“Zuko!” Uncle Iroh called out.

Zuko poked his head out of the closet he was hiding in. “Yes, Uncle?”

“A very nice girl came to see you. Her name is Zi Lee. She’s a tailor. She was very disappointed that you weren’t here. Where were you?”

“I was hiding in this closet.” Zuko replied.

Iroh looked taken aback. His brow furrowed. “Why were you hiding?”

“Zi Lee is a great girl,” Zuko explained, “She’s smart and pretty, and her family is fairly respectable. But I’m just not interested in romance at the moment.”

Iroh shook his head, but he was smiling. “Oh, Zuko. Why, when I was your age, I wanted nothing more than to conquer nations and charm beautiful women. But not everyone is the same. You’ll meet someone one day, and they will be wonderful.”

Zuko noted that his uncle said ‘they’ And not ‘she.’ He wondered if this was a conscious decision made, or if his uncle had simply had a slip of the tongue.

“Anyway,” Iroh said, “It’s time for dinner. I made cabbage soup and rice.”

Zuko lowered himself out of the closet. “That sounds great, Uncle. But why cabbage soup? You hate cabbage.”

Iroh nodded. “Yes, but the cabbage vendor looked so sad. He said his cabbages kept being knocked over. I wanted to make him a little happier, so I bought a cabbage.”

“That was very nice of you. I hope it made him happy.”

“I hope so, too. It’s always nice to brighten someone’s day.”

Zuko was taste-testing tea for his uncle the next day when the story broke.

“Hmm.” Zuko said, “I think it needs something. Maybe a little bit more ginger?”

Iroh nodded. “Ginger. Got it. Does it need any more lychee?”

“No, it’s good lychee wise.” Zuko replied. “Maybe some tapioca would give it some texture, but then again, it’s tea, so it doesn’t really need a text-”

“The avatar!” A voice from outside cried. “He’s back! He was freed from an iceberg, and now he’s back to defeat the fire nation!”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “Another rumor starter. People need to stop believing everything they hear from some random guy screaming in the streets.”

“And he’s here, in our little colony!” The man outside yelled. Zuko rubbed his hand to his forehead, willing away the headache that came with thinking about the avatar.

“He’s searching for someone to teach him firebending!”

Zuko sighed and shook his head.

“Probably a tourist, trying to stir up trouble,” Iroh sighed. Zuko nodded in agreement.

‘Even if it was the avatar,’ Zuko thought, ‘My days of chasing an impossible goal are over.’

The next day, Zuko went out to the marketplace. He needed to get something for him and his uncle to eat for dinner.

He was looking at some buying elephant koi when someone bumped into him from behind.

“Agh!” Zuko said.

“Sorry!” A boy’s voice said.

Zuko turned around. Behind him was a short, bald boy in air Nomad clothes was behind him. He had a blue arrow on his head.

“No worries,” Zuko responded, “Where’d you get your clothes? They don’t look like they’re from here.”

The boy smiled at him. “Oh, they’re from the Southern Air temple.”

“Oh, cool. You get them from an antique shop or something?” Zuko wasn’t sure why he was asking. He didn’t really care. He guessed he was trying to be polite.

“No, I got them before the fire nation destroyed it.” The boy said.

Zuko shook his head. Kids and their sarcasm. “Sure, kid.”

A guy ran up to the boy. He was tan and lean, with hair pulled into a small ponytail. He was handsome, and he was carrying a man purse. That took a few points off his total attractiveness tally, but he was still cute.

“Aang, there you are. Kartara was looking for you, she wants to practice waterbending with you.”

The bald boy, Aang, Zuko assumed, turned to the other guy. “I’ll go find her in a minute.”

“Waterbending?” Zuko asked.

The unnamed boy looked at him. “Yeah. What’s it to you?”

“A little far from the Southern water tribe.” Zuko said, narrowing his eyes. If this guy was going to be rude to him, he was going to be rude right back.

“Yeah, no shit.” Said Unnamed boy.

“What’re you doing so far North?”

“Um, you ever heard of the avatar?” The unnamed boy leaned against the stand selling elephant koi.

Zuko rolled his eyes. “Who hasn’t?”

“Well, Aang here just happens to be him. And I’m Sokka, his mentor.”

Aang looked up at Sokka. “You’re not my mentor.”

Sokka glared at him. “Aang,” He whispered through gritted teeth. Zuko was pretty sure that he wasn’t meant to hear what Sokka was saying, but it’s not like Sokka was being quiet. “Aang, I’m trying to impress the hot Earth Nation boy. Can you not ruin it for me?”

Zuko looked around, wanting to see the hot guy. The marketplace wasn’t too crowded, so it shouldn’t be too hard. The only problem was, there were no hot guys around them. Everyone surrounding them was either really old and saggy or female. One person was both.

‘Wait,’ Zuko realized, ‘Am I the hot guy?’

“Yeah, so,” Sokka said, “I’m traveling with my sister and the avatar. Also this girl named Toph, who seems mean at first, but she grows on you.”

‘The avatar?’ Zuko thought, ‘Uncle was right. When I stopped looking for him, he found me. But I don’t even want to find him any more.”

After a moment of consideration, Zuko said, “Good for you.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem impressed.”

Zuko shrugged, “I’m pretty much over the avatar. He’s way overhyped these days.”

He looked to the avatar, Aang. “No offense.”

Aang shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s not as fun being the avatar as people make it out to be.”

Zuko nodded. Then he walked away, because he didn’t care about hunting down the avatar anymore, and he didn’t want to get drawn back into that mindset. He went back into his and Iroh’s house, which was attached to their tea shop.

“I got some diced elephant koi.” Zuko gestured to the bag in his hand. “Also, I met the avatar.”

Iroh dropped the kettle he was holding. Hot water spilled over the tile floor. “What?”

“Yeah. The rumors were true,” Zuko said, “He’s in our town. I talked to him a little, but then I left.”

Iroh got a mop and began to mop up the spilled water. “I’m proud of you, Zuko. I know how hard it is to give up something you once wanted so badly.”

Zuko shrugged. “Thank you, but you were right all those months ago. The Fire Nation isn’t something I want to be a part of.”

Zuko went out on a walk late that night. He needed to clear his head. He kept thinking about the avatar.

‘No,’ Zuko thought, ‘I’m not thinking about the avatar, so much as the guy who was with him.’

Zuko looked around the square. It was dark and empty. The street lights weren’t lit. He sighed and rolled his eyes. The town officials weren’t very good at remembering to light the lanterns at night.

It was getting darker by the minute. Zuko looked around the square. He didn’t see anyone.

Cautiously, he lit up his hand. Just a small flame, so if anyone saw him from their windows, they would assume he was holding a candle.

From behind him, Zuko heard a gasp. He turned around and saw the bald arrow-headed boy from earlier.

Zuko quickly extinguished his light. “I can explain,” He stammered.

“Didn’t I see you earlier?” The boy, Aang, Zuko remembered, interrupted him.

“Yeah,” Zuko said, “But listen, I didn’t-”

“You’re a good firebender!” Aang said excitedly. He grabbed Zuko’s wrist and started pulling him, “I told Katara they still existed. C’mon, you gotta meet my friends.”

Zuko yanked away his wrist. “Woah! Sorry, Avatar, you seem like a nice kid, but I’m not getting wrapped back up in this war.”

Aang looked disappointed. “But we’re fighting for good, and I need someone to help me learn firebending.”

Zuko shook his head. “I’m not your guy.”

“But what about the greater good?”

“I work in a tea shop. That’s the greatest good I ever want to get.”

Aang sighed. “Just come meet my friends. Please?”

Zuko realized that he wasn’t going to be able to make this kid leave, and he probably couldn’t outrun an airbender. “Fine,” He relented.

“Great! I’ll take you to our camp site.” Aang said, dragging Zuko behind him.

The campsite was on the edge of town, on the beach. There was a girl making shapes in the air with water, and another standing with her feet in the ocean. The guy from earlier, Sokka, was sitting on the sand shouting out guesses to what the water bending girl was trying to make.

“Beaver-duck!” He shouted.

The girl shook her head.

“Platypus-pigeon!”

“Nope!”

“Come on, Katara,” Sokka whined, “Give me a hint.”

“It can fly,” The girl, Katara, Zuko assumed, said.

“Appa!” Sokka yelled.

The water figure dropped from the air back into the ocean when Katara saw Aang and Zuko walking toward them.

“Hey, guys!” Aang said. “I found a good firebender.”

Zuko watched in amusement as both Katara’s and Sokka’s faces took on expressions of shock.

“The guy from the elephant koi stand?” Sokka asked, waving his arms around indignantly, “No way he’s a bender!”

“Is too!” Aang argued.

“Is not,” Sokka countered.

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Guys,” Katara interrupted, “Even if he is a firebender, how do we know he’s trustworthy?”

Everyone looked to Zuko, as if he had wanted to be here in the first place. He shrugged, “I never said I was.”

Aang made a sound like a betrayed child. “Wha- But I saw you firebend! Now you’re saying you’re not a bender?”

“I’m just saying that I never wanted to come here in the first place. I already told you that I’m not teaching you firebending. I’m not getting caught back up in my father’s war.”

“Your father?” A new voice asked. Zuko turned to see a girl with black hair who had walked up to them way too quietly.

“Yeah,” Sokka said, “What does your father have to do with this?”

Zuko mentally cursed himself. ‘Well, at least after they know, they’ll let me leave.’

“My father is Emperor Ozai,” Zuko declared. A gasp rang through the gathered people. “I am Prince Zuko, and I have no intention of ever fighting on either side of this war.”

No one said anything for a few seconds. ‘Finally, I can go home,’ Zuko thought. He turned around and started marching back up the beach, toward the town.

“Idiots,” The unnamed black haired girl said. “Zuko is the banished prince. Emphasis on banished. Have you guys never been to a party? Or even read a newspaper?”

“You’ve never read a newspaper, either, Toph,” Sokka pointed out.

“Yeah,” The black haired girl, Toph, replied, “Because I’m blind. But you guys aren’t, so none of you have any excuse to not know about the banished prince.”

Zuko started walking away faster. ‘Maybe if I walk fast enough, I’ll be gone by the time they get to the embarrassing bits of that story.’

“He got banished for standing up to his father. It was a big scandal,” Toph explained as Zuko further picked up his pace. “My parents would talk about it whenever gossip was low.”

Zuko broke into a run. Maybe if he got away fast enough, they wouldn’t be able to follow him.

Unfortunately, sand is hard to run on and airbenders are fast.

“Hey, Zuko!” Aang shouted across the beach.

Zuko pretended not to hear him.

“Zuko!” Aang said, now much closer.

Zuko groaned and rubbed his temples. “What?”

“I know you don’t want to get caught up in this war, but it’s really important that I learn to firebend before Sozin’s comet. If I don’t, I won’t have any way to save the world.”

Zuko wanted to say that that wasn’t his problem, but deep down, he knew it was. After all, he lived on the world. If the fire nation took it over, (only a matter of time, really,) then Zuko was as good as dead.

“Why can’t someone else teach you firebending?” Zuko asked. Surely there was someone else who this responsibility could fall to.

“Because you’re the only one who’s willing to,” Aang responded.

“What part of ‘no’ screams ‘willing’ to you?”

“If you don’t teach me, no one will,” Aang said, “And then the world will all be taken over by your dad and we’ll all die.”

Zuko considered this. The kid made a compelling point. He sighed.

“Fine,” Zuko relented, “But as soon as you get it, you’ll leave me alone, okay? I don’t want to fight in this war. I just want to work in my uncle’s tea shop.”

“Deal!” Aang shouted.

Zuko groaned. He glared at the avatar. “You’d better be a fast learner.”

Uncle Iroh took the news surprisingly well. “You’re going to teach the avatar firbending?”

Zuko nodded. “Unfortunately.”

“That way he can defeat the firelord.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Zuko said, “But I didn’t want to do it. The avatar wouldn’t stop pestering me until I agreed.”

“I was going to say that I support you, Zuko,” Iroh said. “I am proud of your for doing what is right.”

“Plus,” Zuko said, hoping he sounded casual and nonchalant, “There was this really cute guy with him...”

Iroh sipped his tea with a happy look on his face. “A cute guy, huh? Tell me more.”

Zuko grinned upon hearing his uncle’s support. He hadn’t wanted to get involved with the avatar, but he supposed it would be fine.

After all, like his uncle said, destiny is a funny thing. You never know how things are going to work out.

#sokka #zuko #zukka #Avatar The Last Airbender #fanfiction

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spidcr-man · 6 years

Text

filming ↬ t.h

summary: accompanying tom to set is always fun pairing: tom holland x reader notes: it has been a hot minute since i’ve been able to sit down and write something! IM SO SORRY AGH!!! BUT spider-man: far from home started filming last week and we’re getting lots of good tom content which is always a blessing. i just love a soft mans! warnings: slightly (very slightly) nsfw = mentions of sex also, like most of my writing, this was drafted pretty early in the morning. you can probably tell because the structure and ideas are everywhere. oh and it’s heavily unedited. date published: 071718

requests are currently open!

you tagged along to set quite often, however, some of your days were fairly uneventful

when tom was shooting scenes you’d normally be tucked away in his trailer, reading or keeping his dog tessa occupied

his best mate, harrison would sometimes pop in per tom’s request just to make sure you were alright

we love a thoughtful mans

tom’s home away from home was comfortable — definitely not that same as home but pretty comfortable

there was a good sized bed towards the back where you often took naps as well as a half kitchen that served no purpose to tom apart from being a tea/coffee station

even then, he had no time between scene takes to even think about making something extra to eat

because of this, his snack pantry was filled quite generously (despite his semi-strict diet)

this was a major bonus on days you needed a little something extra

the two of you definitely made sure to make the trailer look cozy

before filming the two of you went shopping (despite tom’s protests) to pick up a few extra things to have on hand

you ended up getting TONS of soft blankets

you wanted to make everything as comfortable/neat as it could be since the two of you would be spending most of your days there

seeing tom act behind the scenes was a VERY rare opportunity for you

marvel is a very secretive company when it comes to their cinematic department and that fact doesn't change whether you happen to be dating a member of the cast

could you even imagine accidentally leaking s:ffh? i’m sweating just thinking about it!!!!

you felt like you had to sign about a zillion confidentiality contracts to JUST step foot on set

it didn’t seem to matter that your only intention was to stay out of everyone else's way

though the set had catering, you often found yourself going to pick up special orders

the catering was normally very good, but some days you just craved something else — it’s really that simple

it first started with a simple request more of a look from zendaya

“hey z! i’m heading to the store to get some trash bags for tom’s trailer, do you need anything while i’m out?”

she’d only smile and YOU ALREADY KNEW WHAT SHE WAS GOING TO ASK OF YOU

“yes i’ll pick up that grilled avocado sandwich you like so much from the place across the street.”

you literally could not deny the queen herself a salad

i don’t actually know if she likes grilled avocado sandwiches oh well

she’d give you a big hug and a polite ‘thank you’ before scurrying to her own trailer

after all, the place was just across from the shop you were going to

one extra stop wouldn't be too much of a hassle

little did you know that this little habit would then prompt tom, jacob and harrison as well

“hey baby, z told me you were going to get something to eat?”

“well, i’m going to the store then picking something to eat for her and i. why?”

you already knew what was coming

tom only handed you a small folded piece of paper that was wrapped around his credit card

you unraveled the paper and noticed that it had three sandwich orders messily scribbled upon it

you playfully rolled your eyes and gave him a disbelieving look

“really, tom?”

he then just kissed your cheek and sprinted off shouting behind him as he ran down to his trailer, “THANK YOU! LOVE YOU!”

you honestly didn’t mind that much because it was usually on days you needed to run errands anyway

tom doesn't have a lot of downtime in between takes which means he is constantly tired

plus, some days the shoots run into very early morning hours

tom loves his job — he gets to be spider-man! — but sometimes all he wants to do is retire to his trailer, plop down on his bed and sleep for three months at a time

it isn’t uncommon for you to come back from running errands and find a sleeping tom completely wrapped up in a bundle of fluffy blankets while snuggling with tessa

sometimes trailer cuddles symbolized a cry to get comfortable

tom loves to cuddle in general but on some days he really just needs you to lay beside him in order to fall asleep and get a good rest

if he's had a particularly stressful or frustrating day, he’ll ask you to be the big spoon which you, of course, agree to

there are many occasions where tom only gets an hour for a break, which is hardly enough time to have a proper nap and snuggle, so you two do the best you can with couch cuddles

the trailer’s couch is in no way fit for cuddles, but you both make it work somehow

because the trailer is space limited, the couch is fairly narrow and can hardly fit the two of you lying horizontally

you’re either squished between tom and couch’s back or dangling off half the couch’s front

tom didn’t mind though, as long as he could get his daily cuddle in

literally being friends with every single person in the cast/crew

even on tom’s off days the two of you still manage to find yourself hanging out with jacob, zendaya and harrison

because you’re friends with pretty much everyone in the cast, it’s really hard to find alone time with tom

it seems like there's a constant stream of people coming in and out of the trailer even if they’re coming to just visit you

you didn’t mind all that much . . . well, except when you and tom are trying to get away with a quickie before he has to go

you’d think the two of you would learn by now that doing it in what seems to be a secure area may not be all that secure

or privacy protected

there had been a few close calls; once with zendaya and once with harrison

zendaya had just wrapped her shoots for the day and wanted to see if you wanted to grab dinner

the intention was pure but definitely not at the right time

the knock at the locked trailer door made you jump out of your own skin

the knocking only continued as you gave tom a frightened look

“IM COMING!” you called out, hearing tom snicker as you shot out of bed, scrambling to put clothes on

“correction, you were coming,” tom softly said above a whisper which causes you to throw a wide-eyed expression over your shoulder

trying to regain your composure, you answered the door to be met by a confused zendaya

at that point there was no sense in hiding, zendaya knew what was happening (she knows everything), but thank god she didn't say anything later that evening

hey she gets it, she’s a human too

who am i kidding? she probably brought it up a week later as a joke

and we love that about her

harrison, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to what was happening

haz had never been one to barge into tom’s trailer even if he was taking an excessively long pee break but tom REALLY needed to get back to set

the fact that you and tom thought you have time to get one in before he had to go back to set was quite funny looking back, but at that moment you just couldn't help yourselves

it was quite embarrassing but you’re pretty sure harrison permanently erased it from his memory (which is probably for the better)

honestly, you love going to set because it’s the little things that bring you and tom together

i wanna visit tom on set :(((((((

permanent tag list: @embrace-themagic @ofserien

(if you’d like to be tagged in future posts or wish to be taken off the tag list, please message me here!)

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floofyeol · 7 years

Text

spectra oath

chanyeol x reader. floofy floof. 9k words. basically, dorky and bad luck!chanyeol who’s too awkward to get a girl.

As if his bad luck isn’t enough to mess up his life, no, Park Chanyeol just had to fall for a girl he has no idea how to talk to.

A painful whack to his nose and a little bit of blood smeared on his face doesn’t seem to be enough of a force of bad luck to crack past the idiotic–yet ever inspiriting—’happy virus’ that is one, Park Chanyeol. For he is, in fact, trapped in his own little bubble of happiness, paying no mind to the blood on his hands, or the kink at his neck from leaning forward for too long to stop the humiliatingly obtained nosebleed. It’s rather unsettling and question inducing to those who pass by him, that startlingly happy expression of his, despite how he shouldn’t look that bright considering what happened to him.

His smile for this particular day has nothing to do with the nickname the campus’ residents has nicknamed him with, and more so that it has something to do with his streak of bad luck finally bringing him something good for once. Good being: yes, a cute girl who he’s for once quite positive he has a chance with is whisked into his life, a turning point that could mean he has the upper hand to his dorm mate Byun Baekhyun.

But more importantly: oh my gosh I just got smacked in the face and got a nosebleed from a really cute girl.

To say the least, it’s quite an interesting first meeting.

He was on his way to the coffee shop, as he recalled, it was a particularly nice morning that calls for blue skies and perfectly white puffs of cloud, with the last remnants of dew visible on lush greens of grass and trees. He was walking with his head down, eyes scanning the ground for any cracks or holes he could fall into—like last time. And the coffee shop he passed by on his way to the other side of the campus had just freshly brewed their coffee beans, he knew, for when the door swung open he was struck with a divinely rich smell and the warm breaths of steam that came from their whirring machines.

There’s a barista holding open the door for customers, but he couldn’t care or focus on that, as his attention was solely centered to the roasted coffee behind the counter. For the previous night’s streak of drafted project had really tipped Chanyeol’s sanity and mind enough to not focus on anything other than caffeine, and despite how his eyes were technically open, his mind was as heavy as lead and body as numb as a corpse. He just had to grab a coffee before heading for his class.

With a bounce in his step and a crack of something awakening on his face, Chanyeol swerved towards the small cafe. But Chanyeol should’ve known nothing ever came easy for him with his bad luck, not even when it’s just a matter of getting coffee.

Only the tip of his worn sneaker was able to make it past the stone pavement and inside the wooden floors of the cafe when he stepped in, before suddenly, a wave of air came straight at his face, with it, the strong force of a glass door which he could not process or react to in time until—wham!

He’s pretty sure he heard a small crack in the air somewhere, but he couldn’t be sure over the sound of him falling on his butt. With a less than graceful fuck, his hand immediately sprung up to clutch at his face, a dreadful sting ringing his muscle and bones.

Shit, am I bleeding?

It took him some time to adjust to the pain before he could open his eyes, slowly, with difficulty through unwilling tears and twitching muscles.

Yup, that’s blood.

Life hated him, it seemed.

“Agh..” he scrunched his face into an expression of pain, however, it only further hurt his nose, to which he slip another curse out.

“Oh dear lord, sir, are you alright?!”

Chanyeol had to squint when he looked up at the person hovering before him, small mumbling noises surround him, soft and light—a woman’s— rushed, and much like the roller coaster at the local fair he went to last month: it went up and down like the screams of him and Baekhyun—panicked. Even then, he couldn’t properly make out her features due to the sun’s light behind her.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to slam the door in your face, I swear. It’s just that, um, you see—agh this is awful—there’s a squirrel!”

Wait..what?

“Oh gosh,” the light left his face when she crouched down to be on his level, and Chanyeol, who was just about done with the predicament, found himself unable to vocalize his complaints when he actually got a good look at the girl who slammed the door on his face, “please forgive me, sir. I was opening the door for you, but a squirrel tried to get in at the same time so I had to close the door to make sure it didn’t come in. And...unfortunately, that meant that I also closed the door on you...hard.”

Her tone faltered the further she spoke, and with it, her panicked features fell to a mix of embarrassment and mortification. And yet, that wasn’t what Chanyeol was focused on.

“Sir? Oh my gosh, you’re still bleeding. Please say something so I know that you’re okay?” Her hand, it was touching him. It’s pressing on his shoulders desperately to gain a reaction, but how could she receive any reaction when her face was far too close to his, too close for him to actually think properly?

But truly, in the end, the reaction she wanted was not what she expected. And he could only have this girl: with eyes that glints and shines and takes his breath away like the prettiest of sea glass in that soft yet warm yellow radiance, soft lips glossed with red rather unevenly yet ever enticing, cheeks pink and adorable and slightly puffed from her pout, and so many more intriguing and wonderful details he noticed in that span of seconds, he could just go on—yes, because Chanyeol has a tendency to be a little dramatic and extra, but he’s pretty sure he knows beauty when he sees one— he could only give this girl an unattractive and rather amusing grimace, because Park Chanyeol forgot all about his anger and annoyance and how he’s supposed to function because of how attractive she was.

“You just slammed the door on my face, what else is there for me to say?” He added a sprinkle of laughter by the end of his sentence to mask the stutter and nervousness in his attempt to seem nonchalant and not at all in pain.

“I swear, I didn’t mean to! I would never deliberately try to—” He felt guilty for not taking her panic seriously, too enticed by the way her lips move and twitch to pay attention.

“I mean..um..I know you don’t mean it. Why would you anyways, right?” She was staring at him, going quiet out of nowhere.

And the nervousness he felt over such an intense stare made him temporarily forgot about his still ongoing nosebleed.

“Sir—”

“Chanyeol.” She blinked, startled.

“Alright, Chanyeol. Let’s get inside and I’ll take care of your nosebleed, okay? And free coffee too, I’m buying. It’s the least I could do after messing up your face.” Chanyeol wasn’t going to object.

The girl lead Chanyeol inside the cafe and sat him down at the table nearest to the counter where she disappeared off to. He vaguely remembered how she avoided her co-workers’ questioning gazes when she approached the counter. She returned quickly by his side with tissues before Chanyeol had the chance to text Baekhyun to tell him about what just conspired.

“Does anywhere else hurt? Your head? Eyes?” Chanyeol was silent for a moment to process his pain, but it seemed that most of his dizziness and the stinging feeling had slowly dissipated. He shook his head, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Alright, I guess the nosebleed is the only thing we need to take care of. Um, I need you to lean your head forward just a bit.” Chanyeol quirked an eyebrow up, questioning her.

“Don’t you have to lean your head back to stop the bleeding?” She didn’t answer him immediately, and instead began dabbing the tissues slowly all over his face, where the blood had taint his complexion.

Chanyeol leaned back by reflex when the warmth of her fingers met the apple of his cheeks, and she—this stranger he’s yet had the guts to ask the name of—giggled at his sudden reaction.

“Hey, you don’t trust me? I’m majoring in nursing, so don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. If you lean your head back instead of forward when you have a nosebleed, don’t you think that the blood will clog your nose even further?”

Chanyeol had been the one to blink, confused, this time. And he didn’t recoil away because he didn’t trust her, he recoiled because she had touched him, and he’s too embarrassed to admit that it actually made him feel shy. But, he played along and appeared enlightened by her words.

“Ah, yeah, that makes a lot of sense.” Chanyeol leaned his head forward to comply to her words, and the stranger slowly stuffed Chanyeol’s nostrils with wadded tissues.

He took notice of the careful attention she put into taking care of him, going back and forth for more tissues and softly apologizing every time he flinched (which really wasn’t her fault) until the third time she came back, she finally spoke.

“So, what would you like for your coffee? I did promise you a free one.” Chanyeol felt almost upset when she was done with patching him up.

“Oh, you’re serious about that? No, seriously, you don’t have to—”

“Are you kidding me? If I don’t do something to make up for this I wouldn’t be able to live with myself! Seriously, it’s cool, it’s my fault anyways.” At that moment, Chanyeol understood the feeling of those high school girls in cliche rom-com movies who sigh dreamily whenever their crush so much as pass by them. Because it’s what he wanted to do right then when he saw the smile on her face.

An idea propelled itself to him the second her smile disappeared, and he’s left wanting to see it again. It was an idea to actually land himself a date. Something he hadn’t even thought of for years now. Chanyeol had been so busy with college and producing his music he forgot the last time he actually interacted with females outside of campus related things. Damn, no wonder Baekhyun teased him relentlessly.

And he knew exactly how he could get her smitten over him—hopefully. What was supposed to come out of his mouth was: Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather have my coffee to go, that is, on a date with a cute girl. And boom, he’d find himself an amazing date.

He couldn’t help but feel proud of himself, for the cheesy yet witty words he just thought of deserved a pat on the back. It would’ve been the case if Chanyeol hadn’t stop to look her in the eyes. If someone would have told him that a person’s eyes were the most dangerous thing about them, right at that moment, Chanyeol would agree in a heartbeat. Because her eyes were just like a black hole, sucking all the thoughts and courage and breath all out from Chanyeol.

Wow..

In the end, his frayed nerves, uncoordinated thoughts, and fear of being denied had jumbled the words he wanted to say to a:

“Um, a caramel frappucino, please. With whip cream.” His lips were pulled into a smile, but it was tight and forced.

She hadn’t noticed it seemed, and she made her way behind the counter to began making his order. Chanyeol slumped back in his seat like a deflated balloon right as she left. He was disappointed, but most of all, annoyed at his stupid self.

“Hang in there alright, Chanyeol?” He was startled by the call of his name, but through his clogged nostrils and awkward smile, Chanyeol managed a thumbs up for her who was busy putting items in the blender.

“Make sure to lean your head forward so you’ll get all the blood out.” He ducked his head low, as far as hitting his head on the table, as she requested, however, it wasn’t really due to compliance, but more so due to the confusing yet exhilarating situation Chanyeol was in and his incapability to believe that any of this was real.

For his bad luck had never given him as much as an opportunity to be taken care of and be treated by a girl before, especially one who he found himself attracted to. Chanyeol almost found this too suspicious, but he decided he should enjoy this as much as it would last.

He raised his head when he saw the white colored tissue starting to turn red from his blood, and he changed with new tissues to stuff into his nostrils. Unlike what his family had been telling him to do if he ever had a nosebleed, this pretty stranger’s technique seemed to work better. A nursing major, was it? How interesting.

Chanyeol was halfway from opening his mouth to thank her, however, he realized one thing.

Shit, I didn’t get her name.

The blender she was watching was making a very loud noise, loud enough that she wouldn’t hear him if he even had the guts to ask for her name. He hated to admit it...but Chanyeol had been out of his game for awhile. How embarrassing was it for a guy to be too shy to ask for a girl’s name?

And that’s when it hit him.

Maybe he didn’t have to ask for her name. After all, baristas usually wore name tags on their chest right?

That’s when Chanyeol thought up of a plan to try and peek at the name on her name tag. Unfortunately, Chanyeol failed to notice the flaw in his plan. For while what he was trying to do was relatively innocent—he just wanted to know her name—to others that would see him? Well, it’d look very different.

Squinted eyes and furrowed brows were directed at her chest once she turned around, and boy did it look misleading. Chanyeol was too focused on looking for her name tag that he didn’t even realize when she was directly standing in front of his table with his drink. Then she frowned.

“Are you staring at my chest?”

Chanyeol was so startled by the anger in her tone that his focus broke. And when he saw the annoyance in her face as he attempted to soothe her, he knew that he didn’t think of his methods well enough.

“N-No! I swear—I would never disrespect a woman like that! I was looking for your name tag because I wanted to know your name. And I—” his order was placed on his table, but not with any hint of anger like he expected, instead, it was rather gentle.

And just when he thought he’d receive a slap along with his nosebleed, Chanyeol instead heard her laugh. His eyes were wide as they stare up at her, confused, but nevertheless relieved.

“Oh my gosh, calm down. I believe you, Chanyeol. You don’t seem like a pervert anyways,” she sat down on the seat across him, and Chanyeol didn’t know what else to do besides to sip on his drink and avoid her eyes “I actually haven’t put my name tag on because we just opened up. But if you really just wanted to know my name, you could’ve asked.”

Chanyeol shrugged his stiff shoulders at that statement, because she wasn’t aware of how awkward he had become around girls after years of not focusing on flirting or interacting much with them.

“Well, um, then, what is your name?” He mustered up his courage, but he figured it was a little too late, and that was why she had laughed at him again, however, it wasn’t something cruel or mocking, she was simply entertained by him.

At least that fact cheered him up a bit.

“It’s [Name].”

Chanyeol finally got what he wanted. Despite having to be subjected to embarrassing things prior, he was satisfied.

“And I really am sorry for giving you a nosebleed.” Chanyeol waved his hand to assure her, while his other hand played with the whip cream on his drink with the end of his straw.

“It’s alright. I’ve always had a rather bad luck.” [Name] couldn’t help but scrunch her face out of confusion.

“Why’d you say that?”

Chanyeol shrugged again, this time, shoulders drawn forward and relaxed. He didn’t answer immediately, he had opened the lid to his cup to eat the whip cream with his straw first before he even thought of a reply, and though he didn’t notice, [Name] smiled at how childish he seemed when he licked the tip of the whipped cream coated straw.

“It’s nothing important, really. I’ve just always had a particularly bad luck. Anything that can go wrong will probably go wrong around me. So, yeah.” He didn’t sound at all upset or resigned at his unfortunate fate, but to [Name], it seemed rather sad how he just accepted his so called ‘bad luck’ so willingly.

“Don’t say that. You’re just probably having a bad day—” Chanyeol shook his head “—a bad past couple of months—” another shook of his head “a bad year?”

Chanyeol laughed, loud and unhinged and deep, but nonetheless, he appreciated her attempt to cheer him up.

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind. I decided not to let bad luck affect my life. I much prefer to look to the brighter side of things instead of the bad ones and face everyday with a smile. Besides, my bad luck has to run out sooner or later, right?”

Chanyeol realized that he had finished his drink by the time he finished talking. And with a quick glance to his phone, he realized he’d been in this cafe for more than half an hour. Which would mean that he probably only had 5 more minutes to get to class, and with that thought, Chanyeol got rid of the tissues stuffed up his nose and hurriedly stood up, nearly toppling over the small table in front of him.

“Shit, um, I’m gonna be late for class if I don’t leave now. It was really nice to meet you and I’d love to talk to you some more, but I really have to—” she stood up along with him, a gentle and understanding smile displayed to assure him that she didn’t mind for his sudden need to leave.

“It’s alright Chanyeol. I guess I kind of see what you meant by bad luck, though.”

Chanyeol managed to slip a small chuckle as a response. But as he left the table to grab for the door, Chanyeol was stopped by a warm hand around his wrist. And Chanyeol, startled and completely unprepared, let out a loud yelp that also startled [Name] into letting go, wide eyed and confused.

Chanyeol cleared his throat and looked away, a horrible attempt to mask his embarrassment.

“Um, anyways...before you go, I just wanted to say that,” she grabbed for Chanyeol’s empty cup and opened his palms—an action that rendered Chanyeol blushing and stuttering nonsense—to put the cup on his hand, “maybe your luck isn’t so bad after all.”

Chanyeol didn’t know what she meant when she said it. All he could think of was getting to class in time. And so he left her with a wave, and a smile that’s hopefully enough to make her see past his bad luck and awkwardness he had displayed to find him at least rather cute. He ran to the designated campus building as fast as he could, and fortunately, his bad luck wasn’t cruel enough to make him late.

That was 3 minutes ago. And Chanyeol can already feel himself turning upset, because: why the heck didn’t I get her number?

“Agh..Park Chanyeol, why are you such a loser?”

As he arrive on campus, Chanyeol is huffing and puffing, face glistening with less than hygienic sweat, and his chest muscles ache from the short run he had to do. With a minute to spare, he made it, and that is good luck enough for him.

“Hey, where’ve you been, Yeol?”

Baekhyun comes like an unwanted and annoyingly clingy ghost from behind him, and Chanyeol is too lethargic and full of thoughts to fight the shorter man from slinging his hand around the taller one’s shoulder, bringing Chanyeol down in the process. It’s only 8 AM, and Chanyeol is about done with the day—another new record broken by Chanyeol’s bad luck.

“Oh, uh. I was smacked on the face with a door and got a nosebleed. Nothing new.” Chanyeol tries to make his point by tapping at his nose which is fortunately no longer bleeding.

“Yikes, sorry to hear that. But hey, at least your good looks aren’t smacked off, right? Otherwise I might just leave you in search for a best friend just as attractive as I am. And you know how picky I can get—”

“Oh, shut up.” Chanyeol pushes Baekhyun away with a smile, and both starts walking towards their designated first class—with one of them sporting a smile that’s too bright to be used in this time of day.

And Baekhyun, he notices this, though doesn’t find it odd, because Chanyeol is always finding excuses to smile. He does however, notice something else, and he stops both himself and Chanyeol in order to grab for the empty coffee cup in Chanyeol’s hand.

“Hey, why aren’t you throwing this away? Oh, hold on a minute, what’s this—” the tone Baekhyun uses draws Chanyeol’s attention to the coffee cup, because Baekhyun doesn’t sound nearly as intrigued as this whenever he lies or pranks Chanyeol.

Baekhyun turns the plastic cup over to the other side, and both their eyes are wide and surprised to see someone’s number scribbled in black marker.

And, like with the cafe door, it hit Chanyeol again.

“This is what she meant with my luck..”

“Dude, do you expect me to believe a girl willingly wrote down her number for you on your cup? Life’s too short to bullshit, especially some bullshit as low as—”

“Baek! She gave me her number!”

Chanyeol has a tendency to injure himself. What with his long limbs, incessantly attaching bad luck, increasing stress due to the campus’ workload, and his best friend who won’t stop getting him into doing stupid and reckless stunts, Chanyeol shouldn’t be surprised that a round of playful basketball with the accounting majors lead to a sprained and swollen ankle.

And because neither he or Baekhyun are in anyway reliable—especially when it comes to something potentially serious—Baekhyun had to resort to other means to help his accident prone best friend. And that happens to be: secretly calling the number Chanyeol received on his cup a week ago from the ‘girl’ who he claims to be a nursing major. In all honesty, Baekhyun feels rather uncertain if this girl really exists, despite the amount of Chanyeol whining ‘she’s real!’.

So it comes as a surprise to Baekhyun when someone actually answers the phone—and that someone, more importantly, is female, or well, has the voice of one—and he has to take the phone off of his ear for a moment because: holy hell Chanyeol actually got a girl’s number.

“Uhm, hi? Are you perhaps the girl that gave away their number accidentally to a tall, big eared guy around a week ago at a coffee shop? Because if this is she, I’m his best friend—who I might add is a lot hotter than him—and he needs your help right now.” Baekhyun is nothing short of straight to the point, and [Name] is rendered speechless for almost 30 seconds before she finally comprehend his words enough to agree to help.

When Chanyeol hears the door to his dorm opening and closing after Baekhyun has left his bedside, he expects Baekhyun to bring him a random medic student. But what he is not expecting—especially at this horrendous looking state of his with mussed up sweaty hair, tight lipped expression and boxers printed in embarrassing cartoon characters—is the girl who he doesn’t have the guts to call since receiving her number a week ago.

And out of all the person who could have called her here to help, it had to be Baekhyun, the one person who has access to embarrassing Chanyeol for the rest of his life. How wonderful.

Still, Chanyeol can’t lie and say that he’s not at all happy to see her again, especially with how much she’s been on his mind lately. He just wish they could’ve met on better circumstances, and with less disturbances—and by that, he means the smiling Baekhyun currently standing behind her and mouthing the words ‘Wow! She’s actually real!’

“Wow.” He doesn’t know if it’s a good thing, or a bad thing, the way she says it.

Chanyeol hopes his smile is charming, despite his red and swollen ankle and the way his fingers fist at the bed sheets, Chanyeol still wants to make a good impression.

“Um, hi.”

She doesn’t wave back, and he’s immediately worried. [Name] dives straight to Chanyeol’s sprained ankle, pulling out a number of things from the box she brings to begin examining his ankle. The unresponded greeting fails to do well on Chanyeol’s accelerating heartbeat.

“So,” Chanyeol’s head shoots up at Baekhyun’s voice, and he desperately, very desperately, orders Baekhyun to shut it, conveying it in the best way he can: with dramatic facial expressions and wild hand gestures, but silently, as to not cause suspicion from [Name], “why’d you hand Chanyeol your number?”

But of course, Baekhyun being Baekhyun, he doesn’t listen. Or more like, Baekhyun will never turn down an opportunity to humiliate Chanyeol. [Name] takes her attention away momentarily to look to Baekhyun, who acts too casually as he leans on the doorway.

“Um, why’d you ask?” She sounds nervous, and Chanyeol hopes, dear god, he prays to the god above: that his bad luck and his awful best friend won’t end up chasing [Name] away from his life.

“Because I’m much hotter, and less accident prone.” Baekhyun shrugs.

Chanyeol glares, “dude, shut up—ow!”

[Name] is looking at Chanyeol now. Her gaze silences him, and he can’t really pinpoint or decipher as to why she’s looking at him like that. And Chanyeol is guilty of not being able to look away.

Sea glass, the swirling colors of her eyes are as deep and rich as that of a sea glass. He still can’t compare her eyes to anything else other than that.

“It’s alright, Chanyeol. Your friend’s really entertaining.” Baekhyun is fist pumping the air and cheering quietly for himself at the compliment, rubbing salt to Chanyeol’s self inflicted wound.

“Thank you, [Name]. And for that nice compliment, I’ll give you a free advice. When a guy you gave your number to hasn’t called you in like, a week? Yeah, it’s not because he’s not interested, he’s just too much of a chicken to—” a pillow is thrown over Baekhyun’ face before he can finish.

“Shut up, Baek! Get out!” Baekhyun does end up leaving, but not without an annoying cackle, knowing that he’s done the damage he wants.

And Chanyeol, well, he doesn’t know what to say when Baekhyun actually left them.

[Name], however, seems to be bursting with things she wants to say by the look of her pink cheeks and flustered expression.

“So, I’m assuming what your friend Baekhyun said is true?” Chanyeol can only nod silently, but then hisses when he puts an ice bag on his ankle, the cold biting his skin.

“Oh, sorry I forgot to warn you about the ice, you’re gonna need to ice your ankle for the next 48-72 hours to keep the swelling down alright?” Chanyeol nods wordlessly again.

“So..um..are you mad? Mad that I didn’t call you..” There’s a slight inclination at the end of his question that suggests his hope for her not to be mad at him.

For once, his bad luck didn’t interfere with him, and [Name] releases a breathy laugh that is anything but angry or sad.

“No, of course not. I mean, it’s not your fault if you don’t want to call me. It’s totally up to you. And I get that college takes up a lot of time so—”

“But I do want to call you! I swear. I even practiced texting Baek a couple of times so I don’t send the wrong kind of texts and end up making you feel weirded out..or something..” Chanyeol realizes his mistake too late when her scrutinizing eyes slowly turn to him, gaze growing sharper the longer the silence drag on.

“It’s true! I have the texts on my phone to prove it.” The muffled voice of Baekhyun manage to pass through the door and slip between the silence.

And a further infuriated Chanyeol who wishes he could kill his best friend for eavesdropping on their conversation clench his fists and glares towards the door, attention diverted from the girl by his feet whose emotions he can’t decipher to momentarily send waves of anger that he thinks can somehow pass through solid wood and Baekhyun’s thick skull.

“I swear to god, Byun Baekhyun—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m leaving.” And then, faint footstep noises follows, growing fainter, and fainter, until there’s barely any noise.

Neither talks until they’re certain Baekhyun has disappeared from behind the door.

“Your friend’s really cute.” [Name] is the first to speak up again while she’s wrapping Chanyeol’s ankle with what seems to be a cast, and it’s light, the tone she uses. So fortunately for him, she’s not mad or upset.

But he doesn’t focus much on what she’s doing or even dwell too long on how she feels. Because the fact that she decides to talk about Byun Baekhyun and his annoying antics and label them as ‘cute’ really brings a great sense of disappointment to Chanyeol. Not towards her or Baekhyun, but more so towards himself, he who can’t grab the attention of girls’ as easily as Baekhyun and his confidence can get a girl’s number or name.

Life continues to suck for Park Chanyeol, what a surprise.

“Not in a way that I’d date him, god no,” and the pouty Chanyeol perks up almost immediately, eyes wide and glued almost too strongly on her and the way she smiles at him, so soft and kind and tinkling with mirth, “I wouldn’t be able to handle him, I think. I meant in a way like: he reminds me of my annoying younger cousin, who’s also cute.”

Chanyeol is visibly relieved when she says it. Silence breeze by like wind on an autumn day, with only the noise of [Name] still working to wrap his ankle meticulously filling in as the small crackle of noise that signifies the warmth that permeates the air around them. In that moment of Baekhyun-less tranquility, Chanyeol wonders if this would be the perfect timing to buck up and ask her. He hesitates for a short while, and starts playing with his own fingers and biting his lips, before— “and what about me?”

[Name] looks up at him with a raised eyebrow.

Chanyeol responds with a barely managed out sentence: “Which category of cute do I fall in?”

He thinks it’s a mistake as soon as he says it, because she stops herself from attending to Chanyeol to blankly stare at the sheets, a reaction that can’t mean good. But it’s only because she is caught, in a barely strung together net thrown without much consideration, but somehow, she still manages to get caught in it, in that question of his. Surely he must know, or at the very least, be able to guess her answer. And she’s contemplating whether she should just play dumb or to just say it out loud, for it’s not as if the attraction she feels towards him is unclear, it just remains unspoken: a horribly kept secret.

[Name] is too wrapped up in her own head that she actually forgot to formulate any answer and leaving Chanyeol a mess of taut nerves.

God damn it, Chanyeol can’t believe that he’s actually regretting sending Baekhyun away. Well, at least with him around—despite the inevitable humiliation that will be brought upon Chanyeol—Chanyeol isn’t going to be the one to embarrass himself by asking such stupid questions that has probably freaked her out too much, which would explain why she’s not answering.

“It’s um.. the other kind of cute.”

Wait..what?

And [Name], she somehow manages to surprise him, and herself. Both heads turn up at the initial shock of her unexpected response, finding themselves in a stare off of awkward gazes: shaking and wary and unsure, but somewhere deeper is a strong sense of hope and something that increasingly flutters.

“I mean—” [Name] clears her throat and stands up almost too quickly, which Chanyeol can’t help but be happy about, for it is her embarrassment that blooms hopefulness in him.

She reaches for a pillow on the floor and carefully sets it under Chanyeol’s wrapped foot. Before giving a chance for Chanyeol to speak, [Name]’s already fumbling to put her items back in her box, fingers clumsily moving against one another and doing more damage than good, which results in her pout and silent curses. Chanyeol chuckles at this sight.

With a flick of her slightly messy hair and a light tap to her foot, [Name] finally turns to Chanyeol, all packed up and neat.

“Well, I better get going—” and the rest of her sentence falls on deaf ears, Chanyeol is guilty of not listening, yet, he can’t bring himself to care, not when he now knows that he has a chance with seeing more of her in his everyday, of possibly having someone to hold, of possibly kissing her? Gosh, he’s such a desperate sap.

“—Chanyeol are you listening?”

Chanyeol nods his head with a smile, despite having not listening to what she’s been saying. [Name] now seems rather miffed at Chanyeol’s obvious lie. But she only sigh, as if expecting it, and then makes her way to the door.

“Just remember to treat your leg with RICE, okay? If you need me for anything else, you can find me on the campus building across the street.” She rattles her box of supplies and turns herself around, but this time, Chanyeol actually listens to what she says, and his response comes almost too suddenly.

“Wait, campus building across the street? You mean...you’re a nursing major here? In the very same campus as me?” Chanyeol almost can’t believe this luck of his, for this is too good to be true.

There’s a small, almost mocking smile on her face when she replies, “Didn’t realize you were so slow, Chanyeol. I mean, I do work in the cafe near the other campus building.”

She does a small wave when her one foot steps out the door, but Chanyeol can’t let her leave just like that without:

“Thank you! And I think you’re cute too! You know, the kind you’d want to date.”

He doesn’t know where his spurt of confidence comes from, but he likes it, likes the elation and excitement that it brings him. And he hopes [Name] likes it as much as he does too, because he doesn’t know what that small giggle she does when she leaves means, but he hopes it means good.

If it isn’t for Chanyeol’s dongsaeng Jongin—who happens to own a pair of crutches courtesy of his broken leg two summers ago—Chanyeol would have to resort to other, cheaper, and undoubtedly, more humiliating way, in order to walk.

It’s only been three days since [Name] visited him, and three whole days it takes for him to find out [Name]’s schedule, three whole days it takes to build up his courage and endure Baekhyun’s taunting of his lack of balls for delaying their meeting for so long, three whole days to finally enter this side of the campus building and be faced to faced immediately with someone strolling along a body bag past him as if it’s normal.

A refreshing sight to look at in the morning.

Thanks to his friend Yixing who shares part of this campus building with nursing majors, Chanyeol is aware that at this time of a Saturday, she’d be in the cafeteria just about to grab breakfast. Chanyeol hobbled towards the cafeteria with a reserved smile—one that has [Name]’s name written all over it—of nervous happiness trying to pass for something charming.

But Chanyeol’s bad luck always catches up to him and his life too quick for him to react appropriately to. In hindsight, perhaps carrying a bag worth the weight of three bags of rice while he’s on crutches and walking an unfamiliar path isn’t the wisest decision. But Chanyeol always realizes too late his mistakes. And the students milling past him, occupied with stacks of books and papers and coffee cups and eye bags for days forces him to not ask for help and be any more of a bother to anyone.

As Chanyeol finally reach the dull grey cafeteria doors, he settles the bags of rice down on the floor to free his other hand and open the door for himself. But, again—fortunately less painfully, though still equally embarrassing—Chanyeol finds himself getting slammed with another door, one that lands him back on his butt.

“Ah, shit!”

Chanyeol does nothing to get up immediately, or do anything to let out the clotting annoyance at whoever had just pushed the door—and himself—open from the other side. He can only sigh and attempt to pick up the fallen crutches at his side wordlessly, acting almost too apathetic about his inevitable bad luck.

“Chanyeol!” His head turns almost too quickly, too eager and too knowing of that voice.

Because that voice, despite how little he’s heard of it, is familiar and encompassed in tenderness and warmth he’s dreamed of hearing for the past three days.

She crouches down to his level and picks up the fallen crutches at his side too quickly for him to process that he was knocked down by a door because of her again. Not that he minds, of course. There are strands of hair falling over her face, messy and tangled but somehow through the panicked look on her face, lack of color due to the haziness still surrounding her and her messy state of hair, Chanyeol is still breathless.

“Let me help you up.” She offers him her hand, but is almost pulled down along with him by the force he pulls himself upright with.

[Name] settles the crutches under Chanyeol’s arms and dusts off his shoulders, forcing on a smile that still holds onto the guilt over smacking him with a door for the second time.

“I’m so sorry—”

“It’s cool. I’m just lucky it was you who knocked me over with the door again, and not some stranger. That’ll probably be extra embarrassing.” He scratches the back of his ear as he speaks, awkward and adorably out of place.

[Name] tilts her head, lips twitching mischievously.

“Lucky, you say? So, maybe I bring you good luck, huh? Like a good luck charm sort of thing.”

Chanyeol shouldn’t feel this dumbstruck over a light teasing like that—his best friend is Byun Baekhyun after all, perhaps the epitome of misfits and playful teasings. But when she says it, when she directs it at him and elbows at his side lightly and brush her arm with his, Chanyeol feels unnecessarily flustered.

“I-I’ve never had a good luck charm before.” Chanyeol attempts to take the bag of rice from the floor to carry on his fingers, however, [Name] has beaten him to it.

But her first attempt on lifting it nearly fails because of how she underestimates its weight. She blinks, peeks inside, then takes the plastic bag with two hands this time. Chanyeol lets out a sound of protest—something like whining, but in a deeper baritone—but he can’t do much with both his hands and his god damn foot busy.

“Well, now you have one!” Chanyeol feels his cheeks warm up too quickly for his liking.

She takes the lead and direct herself to a more secluded part of the large hallway as to not get in people’s way, with Chanyeol hobbling along as fast as he can. [Name] puts down the bag of rice and stares at it with so much question once they found a nice corner to rest in, yet, there’s also mirth in the way she laughs softly before asking:

“So what are you doing out here carrying three bags of rice? Are you planning a cookout with your friends in this building?” She asks, hand on her hip.

Chanyeol shakes his head, rather perplexed that she wouldn’t know why he came all this way with bags of rice when she’s the one who told him to.

“Um, you told me to treat my foot with rice, remember? So I just wanted to make sure I got the right type of rice and brought these—”

“Wait, what?” She giggles into her palm, shoulders shaking, eyes crinkling, and Chanyeol is again, flustered, for two different yet nevertheless heart thundering reasons as he watch her.

Did he say something funny?

“Wow, you didn’t listen to me at all, did you?” That’s not at all true, in fact, Chanyeol is certain he can hear her talk all day and never get bored of it.

“What? Of course I did! But...maybe, um, I sort of drifted off on some of your words back then..” Now that he remembers it, he did blank out for awhile.

“Am I that boring?” She crosses her arms over her chest, with a pout that is not at all fair to use on poor Chanyeol’s heart.

“No! No—god, no. My brain sorta just...started thinking about you..and I..well..” Neither expects the raw truth in his confession, and are both stunned to momentary silence.

She clears her throat, fortunately, a few seconds after, which really relieved Chanyeol, because if she had taken longer to say something, Chanyeol might just combust out of nervousness.

“When I said, rice, I meant it as an acronym: RICE. It’s the standard steps you use to take care of something like your foot: Rest, Ice, Compression and Elevation, and not soaking your foot with actual rice.” Chanyeol is mortified.

Never has he felt the urge to be swallowed into an empty void and disappear from reality and all its responsibilities and its uncomfortable consequences more than he does now. Not when he came to class without preparing for the quiz he forgot, not when Baekhyun had accidentally let his feelings for his crush slip to the entire school in high school, not any of those. But now, that urge is stronger than ever, towing along a sense of humiliation.

Damn, his bad luck is really biting hard at his ass this week.

“You’re so cute..what am I going to do with you?” He jerks his head up, his already large eyes presses themselves to open wider to express his surprise.

Because she’s giggling at him, but not for the reason he thinks.

Or, did he heard wrong?

“You could, um...maybe, not speak of this to anyone? Especially Baekhyun.” [Name] still can’t let go of the amused smile on her face, and if anything, it only stretches wider when she looks at him.

Chanyeol feels completely better in a matter of seconds.

“Of course I won’t. Promise. But, only if you don’t say anything about me slamming you with a door, again.” Chanyeol draws a cross over his left chest where his heart is.

“But seriously, all this trouble just to ask me about rice? You could just text me if you’re unsure. It must’ve been really hard for you to walk all the way here on crutches while carrying these.” She kicks at the bag of rice.

Chanyeol shrugs, ruffling through the messy tangles of unkempt dark hair to soothe his nervousness.

“Well, I needed a reason to see you.”

And Park Chanyeol might not know it, or even believe it if anyone will tell him, but truly, Park Chanyeol is too sweet and adorable to not be able to win any girl’s affection. Especially with eyes so pure and innocent, and words so simple yet heartfelt.

[Name] can’t help but silently gasp at this man, too good to be true, yet so frustratingly unaware of it.

“I don’t know Baek..I don’t think that, ‘you fascinate me more than fundamental theorem of calculus’ is even considered a pick up line.”

Baekhyun chews sloppily at the fried chicken that Chanyeol ordered on the small kitchen counter, pointedly scrutinizing at Chanyeol laying sprawled on his bed.

“Well, do you find her more interesting than calculus?”

“Well, obviously—” Baekhyun throws his hands in the air, with an expression of ignorant confusion that stuns Chanyeol into silence.

“Look,” Baekhyun makes a dramatic effort to cross the dorm from the small counter to sit on the edge of Chanyeol’s bed, “instead of forcing me to find elaborate ways for you to ask her out, have you ever considered just straight out going: ‘hey! I like you, wanna go on a date with me?’”

Chanyeol scoffs, but it’s not completely out of denial for Baekhyun’s words, and more so to not give Baekhyun the satisfaction of being remotely close to being right. And Chanyeol began to wonder, if all this time he’s been over thinking things with [Name], and that Baekhyun—despite how unreliable and often stupid he is—might be right about the approach he needs to take.

Should he risk listening to Baekhyun and just go for it?

“Do you think..that’ll work?”

Baekhyun shrugs his shoulders, with it, comes a cough that racks his body quite violently, choking on the chicken he chewed too quickly.

“You’ll never know until you try, right? Besides, with a simple approach like that, what’s the worse thing that could happen?” Chanyeol wonders that too.

He convinces himself and Baekhyun that he’ll ask her out by Monday. But then the day rolled around and went ignored like a tumbleweed, and Baekhyun feels further and further frustrated for having such a coward for a friend.

So, when the coward won’t take a step forward, Baekhyun will have to trip him forward. Literally.

“Look who’s here~ 3 o’clock.” Chanyeol turns his head to the right.

“Um, who?” Baekhyun sighs and tugs Chanyeol’s head to the left, hand wounding over his shoulder.

“I said 3 o’clock dumbass.” Chanyeol has to squint to see clearly over the distance, his glasses laying forgotten by his bedside.

But when his eyes can finally make out a faintly detailed silhouette of a girl in grey sweaters, Chanyeol gulps.

“Ah, [Name]...” Baekhyun senses the anxiousness and hears the shake in his voice.

And he’s quick enough to press down hard on Chanyeol’s shoulders to keep him in place, making the taller boy wince.

“Dude—”

“Hey! [Name]!” The way he shouts and the over the top way in which he waves his hand catches most of the student’s eyes in the college’s park.

Including the girl who’s name was called.

Chanyeol struggles under Baekhyun’s arm, elbowing and pinching at his ribs to try and break free. [Name] is approaching them, and Chanyeol doesn’t know if Baekhyun will behave enough to not humiliate him. But by Baekhyun’s mischievous smile and the faux innocent crinkle he has around his crescent shaped eyes, Chanyeol knows Baekhyun’s going to try and meddle into his business. As always.

She is bathed in brightness, soaking up the sun’s radiance without even realizing how much she’s burning him with every step she takes closer, and closer. Chanyeol feels the rush in his veins, unexplainable but delightfully exhilarating whenever she’s around him.

Baekhyun pulls his arm away from over Chanyeol’s shoulder and nudges him hard on his shoulder blade, pushing him forward and landing him on his feet.

“Go—”

“No! What are you—”

“Dude, seriously?”

“Yes. seriously—”

“If you don’t start talking to her she might actually think that she did something wrong.”

“But she didn’t—”

“Exactly! Now go.”

Baekhyun shoves Chanyeol away, after his incessant attempt to punch and elbow Baekhyun out of annoyance, he relents and meets her halfway with forceful strides and an awkward smile. She doesn’t notice, fortunately, by the lack of shift on her expression.

Chanyeol waves again as the distance between them blurs closer, but he is too preoccupied with keeping eye contact with her to notice that Baekhyun has been trailing closely behind him, so when he sticks his foot forward while Chanyeol takes a step, the man tumbles to the ground on his knees with the grace of long and flailing twigs: “Ugh!”

And back on the ground he goes—what is this, the third time this has happened?

“Chanyeol!” [Name] picks up the pace of her steps and kneels down before him.

He groans, feeling the skin on his knees sting and the grains of rocks digging into his skin. Chanyeol is too tired of the continuous bad luck befalling him to stand back up and pretend as if it’s alright. No, instead, Chanyeol pushes himself off his knees and falls on his butt, sitting on the ground.

“Baek! What the hell did you do that for?” Chanyeol looks over his shoulder, spotting the said man grinning far too wide to be innocent, just a couple of ways behind him.

Oh, so he was tripped. By his own guiltless best friend. What a jerk.

“Sorry, my bad. But now I guess you can tell that Chanyeol’s fallen for you!” A wink, and then he scuttles away like a little kid, giddy and excited for a reason that’s not very apparent to [Name].

But it is apparent to Chanyeol, and he senses dread tugging heavy on his heart when her attention returns to him, very much confused.

“Your friend is an odd one.” She laughs.

Chanyeol makes no gesture to agree or disagree. He clears his throat and folds his knees over his chest, tucking himself as if he’s something small. [Name] finds it adorable.

“Um..yeah..listen, [Name], I have something to ask you.”

She peeks through lashes filtered by light, there’s a spark in her eyes that emits warmth like the flame of a candle, a small thing it is, but in this close distance, Chanyeol can’t help but be the one to feel small under her gaze. He curse himself, for he should’ve known by now that looking into her eyes will ruin him. But he can never resist the temptation to stare.

“Chanyeol? Are you alright?” Her hand is back on his shoulder in the way that they first meet: him confused and bleeding, her concerned and still with the same capability to wrench his heart.

“Caramel frappucino. With whip cream.” He says in one breath.

Oh no.

He has the inexplicable urge to slap himself at that moment, for apparently, thinking back to the first time they met has screwed his mind over, and he unconsciously says the coffee he ordered on their first meeting instead of asking her to go for coffee.

[Name] draws her eyebrows down, unsure what he means by that.

“Um...do you want one right now? We can drop by together if you’d like. It’s not my shift right now, but I guess—”

“No!”

[Name] blinks.

Chanyeol’s face shifts into many different emotions at once: frustration, nervousness, somewhere between flustered and disbelief, and then one of defeat.

“I just…” he sighs, long and deep, “wanted to be the one to ask you out for a coffee date. Not the other way around. Seriously, I’m such a loser, I’ve been building up the courage to ask you out for weeks now, and in the end it was you who ended up asking me out. Agh, this is so embarrassing. Baekhyun’s right, I’m—”

He feels it light and soft, as if his lips are pecked by a flower petal, it happens too short for him to process, but enough to have him wanting more of it. Chanyeol blinks, trying to wake himself up from this dream, for it is only in his dream would this girl he’s been vying for to kiss him just like that for no good reason.

She giggles. And the sound is as clear as a river’s roaring current, but it is smooth and light like taking a bite out of sweetness itself. Chanyeol knows that even in dreams, he can’t make up the sound of her giggle as beautiful as this. He isn’t dreaming.

Wait, she kissed me?

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to like this loser who doesn’t have the guts to ask me out. Somehow, he fails to see just how cute he is. And technically, I never said that I was taking you out on a date. So, you’re good.”

Chanyeol almost doesn’t believe her, because the smile on her face is something entirely new — it is a timid smile, one that’s never been shown to him before — and the way she avoids his eyes makes him feel suspicious. Yet it all suddenly suddenly makes more sense once he sees her tug at the sleeves of her sweater — she is nervous. Chanyeol feels happiness suffocating him when he looks back into her eyes. Because for once, she is nervous because of him.

“Though, since you did make me wait for like three weeks, I believe this time, the coffee’s on you.” Chanyeol’s grin grows gradually wider, and once it’s reached as far as it can get, his eyes disappear and crinkles form on its side.

“I’m cute, huh? Well..I’m not going to complain...much.” [Name] mirrors his grin with another, but smaller, less confident and more flustered.

“And I guess that’s only fair too.” He picks himself up from the ground, holding his hand out to pull her with him as well.

For once, his clumsy limbs and bad luck hasn’t done anything to ruin this moment, and his confidence only spike even more when she didn’t let go of his hand, even as they’re already standing back up on their feet.

The breeze whisks past them, blowing browned leaves, with the smell of fresh papers and worn books that is the scent of their college surrounds the air. Chanyeol still doesn’t want to let go of her hand, and from the looks of it, neither does she.

“So..coffee?” Chanyeol smiles, bright and wonderful and not at all burdened by any of his worries.

“Ah, right.” Chanyeol hides the frown when [Name] lets go of her hand and walks past him to lead the way.

But Chanyeol follows suit quickly, walking by her side like he’s meant to be there all along. And god, does it feel good to actually get to the stage that he’s been imagining for weeks. Perhaps he should thank Baekhyun as well when he returns? Or perhaps should he rub it in his face about the second date that he’ll take her to after this?

She stumbles, out of nowhere, and Chanyeol staggers in his steps, mind centered again as he reach out a hand to her quickly.

“Whoa, are you alright?” [Name] glance down at the ground, spotting a long crack that the tip of her shoe was caught in.

“Ah..I tripped.” Chanyeol scrunches his nose, thinking.

“That’s odd..usually I’d be the one to fall over a crack.” He looks down at his shoes to see that he’s stepped on the crack too, but it didn’t make him trip the way it did to her. Odd.

“Is it quite possible that you’ve transferred your bad luck to me when I declared myself your good luck charm?” [Name] turns her head to him, glaring in playful accusation.

Chanyeol laughs, loud and beautiful and body shaking from joy.

“If that might be it, are you going to leave me?” He pouts, a sight too adorable to be able to be done by a man as hot as he is.

[Name] has to look away to hide her blush from witnessing such a beautiful sight: of Chanyeol smiling and pouting and showing her more confidence than she has ever seen, something she’s eager to see more of.

She hums, “Well, with someone like you along the way, bad luck doesn’t seem like such a bad thing.”

Chanyeol nearly chokes on his own spit.

Damn, that was smooth as hell.

Hopefully, he’ll actually make it through this first date.

#exowritersnet #exo #exo chanyeol #exo scenarios #chanyeol scenario #exo imagine #chanyeol fluff #exo fluff #exo fanfiction #kpop scenario #kpop imagines #chanyeol

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thingsandtrichotillomania · 7 years

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Extra Entries Vol 2

Today is January 6th, 2017 and I’m already having to go over my new years resolutions because I haven’t changed anything at all and I’ve been unproductive as fuck.

Today is January 9th, 2017 and I think that 2017 has replaced my depression with anxiety. I haven’t felt suicidal at all yet or even depressed. Just very anxious. I can’t even shower for long anymore. I hate this. I’m falling further and further. Letting it consume me.

Today is January 11th, 2017 and so I was thinking about my ex because I tried to text him hey (I know, very uncool of me. I’m desperate to talk to someone. Anyone.) and then I just realized, his birthday is in a couple of weeks. 17 days to be exact. I don’t think I can ever forget it because it’s EXACTLY three months before mine, although he is a year younger than me. I’m probably going to cry myself to sleep that night.

Today is January 14th, 2017 and I haven’t showered since the 11th. Just realized this as I was looking back onto my shower times. I’m going to go shower now. I was about to say tomorrow morning but now. I need to do it now. No procrastinating. Even if I do panic.

Today is February 7th, 2017 and I feel like if I shaved my hair off I could start anew. I’m so sick of pulling my hair and losing hair, yet having no signs of hair loss other than seeing the hair come out. I don’t feel that pop that other Trichters search for, I don’t search for that one wrong hair, I just pull. And I have no hair loss. No bald patches or even thinning hair. None of it. Yet I’m losing hair. I FEEL LIKE A BIG, FAT, PHONY, LIAR. I’M SICK OF IT. AGH. I’m going to see how long I can go without pulling my hair out. If I can stop, then I’m faking it.th,

Today is February 8th, 2017 and tonight is the first night of the year I have felt “properly” suicidal and depressed. Like I wanna high key jump off a bridge right now and it’s probably because I read someone else’s depressing thoughts on their status update on a site (not FB) and it’s “triggered” my depressing thoughts. I hate using the word “trigger” because it’s been so casually thrown around at my school as something common. Like “Oh I’m so triggered.” when it’s just a crooked sign or something. I just can’t say it without feeling fake.

Today is May 1st and I’ve had a bloody nose. My third one this year. I had one Jan and Feb and now.

Today is September 23rd, 2017 and I lie to myself. I tell myself that this is okay. That I’m okay with being fwb. I mean I am fine with it. I get attention from him. I just wish he would love me back. God I wish I could kiss him when I wanted.

Today is November 21st and I’ve forgotten about this. I probably could have put more on here but it’s so far in my drafts and I stopped using tumblr as frequenter. Stressed out, picking at my scalp while going through my drafts.

Today is December 24th, 2017 and I’ve posted a shit ton today. Okay I didn’t really post but I’ve written a lot. My new years resolutions, the reflections for 2017 NYR, reacting to a depressing post from 2015. It’s a lot and probably the most active I’ve been on Tumblr ever.

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jngukie · 7 years

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WIP Tag

i was tagged by @floofyeol! idk if this is a blessing or a curse let’s find out.

some of these fics have been in drafts for ages? so tbh i don’t even know if i will post them but hey we’ll see. (so assume for now that none of these will be posted—except when stated otherwise with an *)

the first couple will be ships. the later ones are reader-inserts. all are still protected by the Creative Commons license.

slide it up in here: chapter 10* pairing(s): jikook, namjin, yoonseok genre: humour, crack, drama, angst tags/warnings: texting, college au, slightly filthy, innuendoes, Awkward Jeon Jungkook™, slowburn, self-esteem issues, self-hatred, implied/referenced homophobia, everyone is a mess™

SUMMARY

gguki: [image attached] gguki: what should i do with it chimothy: um chimothy: dude idk if i’m entitled to give you suggestions but chimothy: i mean you could always just stick it in the ass???????

or jungkook accidentally sends a stranger a picture of his roommate’s brand new dildo

PREVIEW

the (9)7 wonders of the world

tol: ok here’s the plan dabs 24/7: yugyeom no offence but your plans kinda suck muscle pig: ^^ what bambam said muscle pig: i don’t trust you anymore tol: wow that hurt tol: but i promise you this one will be better dabs 24/7: don’t do it kook tol: it won’t backfire in any way

untilted vhope pairing(s): vhope, namjin genre: humour, fluff tags/warnings: college au, skype dates, profanity, neurobiology/pyschology major!namjoon, ra!jin, music major!yoongi (i think), some major!hoseok, and high schooler!tae, tbh idrk bc i haven’t finished writing it lmao

SUMMARY

When Jung Hoseok signed up for college, he didn’t think he’d end up on academic probation so soon. Hell, he’d never guess he’d have friends who would use him as a fucking lab rat for their atrocious experiments. He definitely did not expect to fall in love with his resident advisor’s little brother—and then proceed to sneak into said resident advisor’s room and hack his computer just to have one more Skype date with the little brother. Without getting caught by said resident advisor. Yeah—he’s a little stressed, to say the least.

→ a continuation of It’s Burning Up in Here.

PREVIEW

He didn’t sign up for this. He thought college would be a great idea—who would pass up the opportunity for ultimate freedom and youthful stupidity? No, he was ecstatic for college—but he definitely hadn’t signed up to be the fucking victim for his resident advisor’s boyfriend’s experiments.

“Hoseok-ssi, please stay still or otherwise this will hurt. A lot,” Namjoon begged as his friend Yoongi tried to hold him down on the fragile coffee table.

“That’s not what your needle’s saying! You said it was a harmless experiment! You said I’d be fine!”

“You will be! I just need practice drawing blood once—”

“You’ve never even done this before?” Hoseok shrieked, writhing some more. Yoongi growled in frustration and flung his entire weight onto Hoseok’s body—and thus effectively snapping the legs of the coffee table and sending them down towards the floor.

His advisor ran into the room then, eyes wide in alarm while holding a skillet filled with half-cooked meat, his creased white apron reading World’s Best Dad! in pretty cursive pink. “What the hell is going on here?”

untitled taekook* pairing(s): taekook, yoonjin genre: fluff, angst, humour, crack tags/warnings: restaurant au, running away, mentions of nudity, exhibitionism, does getting caught dancing naked in your room count as exhibitionism idek, mention of mpreg, but there’s no actual mpreg, i mean it’s the sims it’s not real, many many references to the male organ, but sorry folks no smut (A/N: this is literally what i have in my docs wow i’m such a nerd for preparing ao3 tags LMAO)

SUMMARY

The last thing Jungkook expected after running away to Seoul is to score a private live viewing of Naked_Neighbour_Dancing_In_His_Bedroom.mov—and then proceed to bump into him when he’s not-so-naked. And then also manage to greet him with a slap. It also probably doesn’t help that Nude Neighbour is his new boss. All in all, Jungkook just maybe kinda wants to die. (But of course Seokjin isn’t gonna allow him, so he’s just going to suffer—for now.)

PREVIEW

He sighs, turning his head to gaze out of the window, only to freeze when he realises his view isn’t exactly the most… decent.

Because across from his small studio apartment window is a perfect view of a larger apartment in the building across, and currently, the tenant (he hopes the boy’s the tenant) is enthusiastically dancing through his room completely naked, dinglehopper fully on display. He’s mouthing the words to some song, throwing a finger up in the air as he shuts his eyes and nods his head as though the music (Jungkook thinks there’s music) blasting in his room is speaking to him on a spiritual level.

Jungkook’s face is bright red when he finally breaks out of his trance, and he wishes he wasn’t so bad at reacting appropriately to inappropriate situations so he could at least have saved himself from adding a thirty-second clip of Nude Neighbour to his collection of non-digital memories. He rushes to the window and pulls the curtains close, fingers stiff as he tries to rid his brain of such scandalous images.

At least he was hot.

His face is redder now—if that’s even possible. “Fuck me,” he whispers, and then flushes even more. “Wait, no. Don’t fuck me. That’s not what—why am I even talking to myself. Agh.”

take these words out of my lungs (and set them free) pairing(s): vmin genre: angst, fluff tags/warnings: major character death, suicide attempt, depression, body image issues, depressed!jimin, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, ambiguous original character that appears for like five seconds, high school au

SUMMARY/PREVIEW

three pounds. that’s how much he’s gained since he last stepped on the scale, the dictator that rules over his life. he stares at the numbers again, frowning at the digits glaring up at him. perhaps there was a mistake; maybe the scale is rigged or jammed or simply broken. he couldn’t have possibly gained three pounds in a span of two days. hasn’t he been walking around his neighbourhood enough?

he sighs, stepping off the scale and turning around to flush the toilet before washing his hands. even the cold water burns his skin, and he wishes he could melt through the cracks on the floor. would he slim down then? would he finally be skinny enough?

“jimin!” he hears his mother call, and he forces his way from the sink, sneaking out his parent’s bathroom and into the living room outside. their apartment is small but cozy. jimin hates it.

untitled kim seokjin* pairing(s): platonic OT7 genre: fluff, angst tags/warnings: anxiety, depression, eating disorder, negative body image perception, lapslock (lower case)

SUMMARY

honestly, he can’t remember what it’s like to live anymore.

PREVIEW

breathe in. breathe out.

three lucky charms. four cereal pieces. seven bits down the drain.

he smiles, staring at the milk-stained sink as the spoon clatters against metal, bowl turned upside down. it’s ugly—white ink staining burnt grey like liquid cobwebs feeding on rust. it looks exactly as how he feels: dirty, wasted, trash. one-seventy-nine centimetres down the drain.

untitled kim taehyung pairing(s): Kim Taehyung/Reader genre: fluff, humour, probably angst bc knowing me tags/warnings: (sor far) nudity, profanity

SUMMARY/PREVIEW

Kim Taehyung has no regrets. Sure, he probably should’ve thought twice before he spent all of his money on BIGBANG merch just to show Jungkook that yes, he’s the bigger fanboy, and sure, he definitely should’ve listened to Jimin when he warned Taehyung that no, he shouldn’t eat three whole pizza pies by himself, but that doesn’t mean he regrets any of his decisions. Even though blowing all his earnings on people he’ll never meet did cause him to starve for a good or so month.

(Thank god for ramyeon.)

So, no, Jimin, he doesn’t regret running out of the shower butt naked when he heard her singing on her way to the second floor of their co-ed dorm, doesn’t regret shouting, “I love your voice!” before she screamed, “Oh my god, you’re naked!” And he definitely doesn’t regret yelling, “Oh, shit!” into Oblivion before sprinting back into the bathroom to resume the hot shower he abandoned.

“For fuck’s sake, Taehyung,” Jimin says to him once Taehyung’s finished recounting the story, the two of them lying side by side on Jimin’s bed. “You’re going to get us kicked out.”

“I should probably say hi,” Taehyung muses, blinking at the ceiling. “Do you think she remembers me?”

Jimin glances down, and snickers. “With how small your dick is, she probably does.”

untitled park jimin pairing(s): Park Jimin/Reader genre: fluff tags/warnings: (so far) blind!reader

SUMMARY

He is an angel; and she doesn’t need to see to believe. She fathoms his widespread wings as he gently picks her up, worriedly and urgently asking for her health, voice so soft it touches her skin like silk on smooth glass. His eyes must be crinkled in the corners, a smile stuttering through apologies, heart too warm for the human hand to touch. She imagines what he looks like, faintly deciding through his rapid Korean that he must be chesnut if not vanilla, not in skin but in connotation because he sounds and smells and feels like home.

Her pause is a millennia long, and she hears him repeat himself again, the sound of melting marshmallow oozing out of beautiful lips: “Are you alright?”

She produces a smile, feathery and light, eyes glassy and the world continues to remain black. “I’m fine,” she replies, and her voice is cracked from its lack of use; she hasn’t met anyone worth talking to in what feels like a century. Another smile reappears, much strained than what she’s used to, and she picks herself up from where the concrete lay, the dust falling from her voile skirt. “No damage done.”

untitled kim taehyung #2* pairing(s): Kim Taehyung/Reader, platonic OT7 genre: fluff, angst tags/warnings: i think it’s schizophrenia?, mental illnesses, depression

SUMMARY/PREVIEW

There is a moment when time stands still. It’s fleeting, escaping the moment your fingers curl around it and pull. But it is during this moment happiness enraptures you with its warm hug as your heart thunders against your chest—the steady thump, thump, thump of a snare drum awakening. It is during this moment pain ceases to exist.

But after, everything will come rushing back.

i have more but these are the ones that are decent, at the very least.

to pass the torch on, i’ll tag @minmelly @kinky-koreans @pasteljeonggukk @haneulismykoreanname @rnjmnster and anyone else who wants to do it! (if you don’t, no pressure. good luck to you and your writing!)

#tags #i actually have like 10 more wips #i didn't know i had this many #will i actually write any of these #hopefully at some point

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1rmono · 7 years

Note

can I vent n kinda confess here just a good Ramble please okioki sO im 17 (in my penultimate year (year 12 in the good ol UK) of school) and so it all began when this Boy in my form class asked me to thProm and it was so lovely i want to Re Live the moment every day. we were in computing class and we sit next to eachother and he sais "hey are you going to prom" n im like "hm yea even tho idont want to" (bc i hate dresses and fuss and parties) and hes like "its okay rachel you cn go w me" {1/???}

n then my heart did this thing tht only ever happens when he talks to me cs hes so polite and he alwasys says my name like wOw thats so Intimate how could you abd i feel sick but i live it?? andd i PAnicked when he said tht like dhbj so i blurted out “NO” and the. n i kick myself so hard and apologise “bc i already arrange the o go w my friends sorry” and ye i do kinda like this boy i guess bc he likes anime too n he reccommened one piece n kuroshitsuji to me n i enjoy them and {2/??}

i just pretended not to care hahahhah a aha H so then Prom happened, i didnt say Hi to him at th prom bc HA me,,initiating a convo??then pigs can fly! and he looked so handsome when i saw him from afar in th e crowd i hate evrything and so he went to college and i stayed in my school and ive not seen him since bc were not close friends just former form classmates and anime conversationers in the computing class. i couldnt stop thinking abt him and Cue the period of crying and regret and {4/??}

and “what if id sais yes then or then or said hi to him” and i did that toxic thing of making up a fantasy world where i was more friendly to him so tht he would like me and smile to me more i actually drafted in my notes for ages a message to him that id like to send ,,, like"oh howdy long time no see yea im sorry i said no to you when you asked me to prom" trying to hint “hi shall we use Magic to turn the clock backward and go to prom tgether even if jst like fridns like you wanted” and {5?/?}

and we could be closer and shit agh i regret regret regret i actually sent the message to him i think it ws “hi sorry i didnt say hi to you at th prom” about twi months after the prom and as soon as i sent it i had to go to th bathroom because i was so close to being sikc an d my heart was doing a louis hamilton alexander mcqueen weeeeooooo and ge replied “its okay dont worry how are you” and he used th (^.^) emoction how Fkin cute and i was reminded of how polite and friendly he was {6/??}

and friendly i dont know how he does it bc i cant talk to people properly and So Yeah he saaid the words “ive missed people too” meaning,,,, he doesnt miss me and even if he ever did he doesnt now!!! and tahts it thats the end ive never seen him since aNd its been overa year? since thatDay and whenever i see him on my social media i hate everything ad i just i just {8/8} im so s sorry for spamming you like i would nt wanna read an essay on some sappy schoolgirls first crush (fck me i said it)

hi its Sappy Schoolgirl again did i mention me n this boy were also anime friends with this other girl who is now a close friend of mine,, he siad to me once we should all hang out sometime which hasnt happened yet and i wont forget that time in Computing class when we were talking abt Subway and i said id never been (since then ive been twice n thought of him) and hes like “!!no!! youve never been to subway! i will take you! this saturday!!” but that didnt happen yk he was only joking

tumblr ate your third ask but this was such a rollercoaster omg….,,,,not to be sappy but ur love for this boy is so pure u even get excited over his emoji usage omg that is so real n cute wow…..i feel so bad it didnt end the way u wanted to n i feel like maybe meeting up with him once just to hang out n tell him how u feel might be good just to get closure about the whole thing? but that’s just my point of view ofc ! i hope it turns out better for u ah this really was like reading a high school love story that needs 1 more chapter added about the happy ending :(

#anon #answered #oohohohoh i hope it ends well

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le-amewzing · 7 years

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Unorthodox

A side story in this AU, but it can be read on its own. Follow the Birds of a Feather tag for more.

Fic: "Unorthodox" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: Moriyama Yoshitaka/Kobori Kouji, Ennoshita Chikara (mentions of Ennotana), Sugawara Koushi (mentions of Daisuga)

Rating: light T

Words: ~7,900

Summary: Moriyama has his own way of doing things…even if it doesn't sit well with him. *An AU oneshot set in my Birds of a Feather AU, but may be read on its own; set after "Opportunity" in the BoaF collection; slash.

"Ah!" Ennoshita held up a hand to block Moriyama's shot, but he only touched the paper wad with a finger. He watched as the ball still landed in the waste basket, despite its shaky trajectory. Ennoshita snapped his fingers. "Darn. My timing was only ever so-so for blocking," he remarked with a chuckle.

"And I have a knack for shots that'll make it in anyway," Moriyama told his superior as Ennoshita joined him out on the Marketing floor at Ukai Corporation. Moriyama had more sticky notes to toss, so he grabbed the next one, crunched it up into a tight paper ball, and threw it. Without a blocker this time, it landed in the middle of the basket's mouth.

"Wow… That's something…" Then Ennoshita shook his head. "Agh, I didn't come out of my office to be impressed. Did you finish the drafts from yesterday?"

Moriyama passed him a folder with the work inside with one hand and balled up another sticky note with his other. "That I did. I had a couple of extra ideas for the third case, so I included two more drafts."

Ennoshita looked it over as Moriyama made another, perfect three-pointer. "Good work, Moriyama-san. Ah, but," he added with a glance to the office beside his, "maybe you can make your baskets later, when Sugawara-san's not around?"

Moriyama half grinned. "Will do," he replied, and he shoved his discard pile off to the side with one sweep of his arm. Briefly, he dragged his eyes over the desk, a space he'd only been occupying for more than a month since its prior occupant was no longer with the company. He grimaced, but he stopped when he realized Ennoshita also eyed the space forlornly.

The brunet opened his mouth as if to comment on Terushima's absence, but he thought better and closed his mouth. Both of them had worked closely with the spunky guy, especially Ennoshita, who'd sat with him out here for years before accepting the Marketing supervisor promotion last fall.

"Things feel more like normal around here," Moriyama quipped, saving the younger man from the need to comment.

"Oh. Yeah…" He leaned slightly on Moriyama's desk, his eyes trained on Sugawara's door. "I thought it'd take longer after Sugawara-san said the layoffs were over. But I guess not." He perked up as he recalled something. "That's right. You know Kobori-san in I.T."

Moriyama shrugged, not having a better way to describe him and the I.T. department head. "He's…my friend," he said in an odd echo of when he'd first mentioned the connection to Ennoshita. "And, before you ask, they still don't know what happened in the hack. But they've improved our security."

"No, I know. My friend, Narita, is on loan to help our I.T. guys, and he's said the same. I thought Kobori-san would know more."

"Oh, he probably does. He just doesn't say." Moriyama blinked, feeling a sense of déjà vu. Ah. Right. Kobori had known more months ago, knowing how bad the hack was, and Moriyama had been huffy with him after for not sharing. Unfortunately, Ennoshita had been right about Kobori not being allowed to share the extent of the damage at the time. The memory made him frown now.

Ennoshita tilted his head towards him, curious. "Something wrong?"

"Nope. Just—have other work to do."

"I see. I assumed you had something more to say about Kobori-san."

Damn. Ennoshita, like Sugawara, was a lot more perceptive than he seemed. That mental acuity made it clear to Moriyama and the rest why background character types like them had been chosen to lead the department. In that way, Ennoshita and Sugawara were like Kobori, so at least Moriyama was used to that personality type.

"Moriyama-san?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, I'm good." He smiled until Ennoshita either bought it or gave up and then returned to the office adjoining Sugawara's. Then Moriyama dropped his smile, massaged his cheeks, and went back to throwing out old sticky notes.

At the end of the day, he considered swinging by the basement to say "heya" to Nakamura and to pick Kobori up on the way home. But then he realized he'd never collected Kobori, nor had Kobori ever come up to the fourth floor to fetch him, so he scrapped the idea and left by himself in search of ice-cream on this warm summer's night.

Honestly. Why had he thought to do that, to act out of the ordinary, all of sudden? They'd been living together for years, roommates since university, so why change it up now?

Hmm. "Friends." "Roommates." Such funny things to call him and Kobori.

He stopped at the ice-cream stand that had set up for the season near the public basketball court up the street from their apartment. Behind him in line, two high school-age girls whispered to each other about the handsome man ahead of them, so he left some money to cover their ice-creams and flashed them a radiant smile as he walked away with a cone of coffee chocolate chip.

Their whispers went away after seeing his smile, but at least the taller girl thanked him for treating them. Dammit. Kise made it look so easy, winning hearts left and right with a well-timed smile…!

Moriyama's phone rang while he sulked, but his hands were full between his ice-cream and his briefcase, so he went to sit on the bench by one side of the court. He dug his phone out of his pocket and answered it by the fifth ring. "Kobori…! I got the most pitiful looks from two cute girls again…!"

Kobori half sighed, half chuckled. "Really, Moriyama?"

"Really!"

"Well, their loss. By the way, since you're already out of the office, would you mind going to the spice shop and buying a grinder of the good red peppercorns? I won't make it before they close."

Moriyama rolled his eyes. The spice shop was in the opposite direction from home, so he'd have to hoof it there…or he could just pick up the store brand from the local convenience store. However, Kobori, unlike Kasamatsu, never filled his ear about his casual, failed flirtations, so Moriyama supposed he could be just as nice and humor Kobori by going to the specialty shop. "Sure, sure."

"Thanks. I'm leaving shortly, so I'll see you at home soon. Bye, Moriyama."

"Yeah. See you soon."

He finished his ice-cream first and turned right around to make it to the store. Luckily, the owner saw him before she turned the "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED," so she let him inside. He found the grinder pretty quickly, so he bought it and a strong-smelling cinnamon mill, too, as he couldn't resist.

Moriyama wasn't surprised that, since he'd doubled back, he arrived home after Kobori, which he noted by the absence of the taller man's slippers inside the door. "I'm back," he called into the apartment as he untied his dress shoes.

"Welcome back," Kobori said on his way out of the bathroom. He was still in his work clothes. "I got home about five minutes ago. Success?"

"Success," Moriyama confirmed, passing him the bag.

"Great! Wait, why's there a cinnamon mill?"

"Because it smelled good and now I want cinnamon cookies."

Kobori laughed and followed him into the kitchen. "Isn't it the wrong season for those? Have some mochi ice-cream after dinner."

"I had some ice-cream already," Moriyama admitted, but he opened the freezer to check the flavor. He'd forgotten they had mochi ice-cream left over…ah, never mind. They only had strawberry.

Kobori came up behind him with a sigh and pushed the freezer door closed. "Why is it you always eat dessert first?"

Moriyama flashed him a victory sign along with his wide smile from earlier. "Because Mom never broke me of the habit," he announced happily.

The computer tech scrutinized him with a wry smile, and he chuckled again. "Dinner'll be in half an hour," he said as he turned away.

Moriyama blinked. Not that he'd ever made an effort to use his smile on his friends and teammates, but how could Kobori have no reaction? Were all guys immune to it, or had Kobori simply seen it enough over the years? He blinked a second time, snapping out of his thoughts as he followed after his former teammate. "So, uh…what are we having?" he went with in the end, still confused if he should prod or not about the strange idea in his head.

"Fried chicken," Kobori answered, assembling the ingredients. "Proper summertime food," he teased with a quick, mischievous glance at his friend.

"Oh, cut me some slack." Moriyama let an odd beat pass before forging ahead. "Hey, you…don't think of my smile as scary?"

Kobori did a double-take and furrowed his brow. "Scary? Of course not. What, were the girls you mentioned earlier rude?"

"No, not really…" Moriyama glanced at the ceiling as he loosened his tie, and he leaned against the kitchen counter to watch Kobori cook. "I've always marveled at how someone flashy like Kise can socialize so easily, whether he talks or not. He could probably have his fans screaming in his sleep, it's that natural."

"Not anymore. You know he fell out of the fashion scene while we and Kasamatsu continued our studies. Who would've thought he'd actually become a pilot after that birthday lesson Kasamatsu bought him?"

"Don't remind me. I was the one who gave our beloved Captain Bad-At-Romance the idea, remember?" He ran a hand through his olive–black hair and ultimately crossed his arms in front of his chest. "But that wasn't my point. I mean that Kise's smile…naturally charms everyone. I've always thought I had a nice smile myself, but tonight I just…wonder."

Kobori nodded. The chicken was ready to be cooked, so he laid the pieces in the frying pan gently with a pair of chopsticks. He used a second, clean pair to flip them when one side was done, and a third when the meat finished—though Moriyama had never once gotten sick from Kobori's food, so he didn't heckle him for being a kitchen hygiene freak. "Your smile's not scary," he assured Moriyama.

Moriyama frowned.

"Really," he insisted, and he laughed when Moriyama swatted his arm for imitating his inflections from their phone call. "You just…get really into it when someone piques your interest, even if only for a moment." He tapped the unused end of the chopsticks to his chin. "Kasamatsu and Hayakawa used to bellyache about you being distracted when you spied a girl of your type during a game, but I think you were always focused—are always focused, in your own way."

…well, jeez, put that way, how could Moriyama refute? "You flatter me," he groused, his cheeks pleasantly warm.

"And you, me. Takeuchi-sensei and Kasamatsu always did say I should've used a firmer hand with you, but it was easier for me to corral the kouhai." Kobori's tone was lighthearted, as was his grin. The view was nice, so Moriyama shelved his vanity for the evening as Kobori made his night better and chatted to take his mind off things.

In the morning, Moriyama woke up at the sound of his alarm clock and hopped out of bed. He headed for the bathroom, knocking on Kobori's door as he passed. "Oi, get up, Kobori."

No sound.

Moriyama rolled his eyes and popped his head in. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. You'll barely have time to get dressed let alone eat if you don't get moving."

"…thanks" came Kobori's sleepy reply. He waved over his shoulder, an indication that he was, in fact, awake.

Well, he'd done his job, so Moriyama got to use the bathroom first. He dressed and was nearly ready by the time Kobori slogged into the kitchen to heat up leftovers from yesterday's breakfast for them, but he snickered while Kobori ate.

"What?" the tech asked after swallowing a folded egg.

"Nothing. Except your faux-hawk's back."

Kobori mussed his hair up, groaning. "I just need to run a comb through it."

Moriyama shrugged. "I don't get why you don't style it that way anymore."

"Because we're closer to thirty than we are to twenty," Kobori retorted.

"But it was cool on you." Oh. Had that been too much? Kobori's eyes widened, and he suddenly found their breakfast to be very interesting.

"As I said, it's no longer age-appropriate."

The olive-haired man shrugged again. Suddenly, he had an idea, and he pointed rudely with his chopsticks. "Oh! You should've tried a real mohawk! Completely shaved the sides and gone all big up top."

Kobori eyed his laughing friend skeptically. "Yeah… And then Takeuchi-sensei would've had a heart attack and I would've been suspended. Sounds great, Moriyama."

Moriyama still snickered, but this lackadaisical atmosphere was better than the strange one a moment ago.

They finished eating, and Moriyama went on ahead to work first. Kobori would clean up since the night owl had stayed up a bit later than he meant to, but that was the norm. They didn't go to work together. They didn't leave work together. They did often meet up to have lunch together, but that was really just a habit carried over from their university days, a habit started because Kobori had gone to a different school from him and Kasamatsu after Kaijou.

They lived together, ate together, occasionally slept together—that was their norm. But, close as they were, Moriyama didn't think it right to call them "friends." Hmm.

The bus stop by their place was a two-minute walk, the bus, a seven-ish-minute ride to work, so Moriyama inhaled, exhaled, and wished for this funny, itchy feeling to disappear. It did, when he felt a pair of eyes on him.

Moriyama paused his count of the telephone poles outside the window and looked around him when he got the sense of being watched. He saw no one…and then a middle-aged housewife gave him a coy look when their eyes met for a second. Yikes.

Internally groaning, Moriyama resumed his count, and he smiled uncomfortable when he felt he was being watched again. Would it be wrong of him to tell the woman off, if he did so politely? But she sat too far away, across the aisle and two seats ahead. It would be little effort to shoot her a dirty, though.

Yet, when he looked up this time, he found she wasn't looking at all. Weird. However…

He glanced up and beside him, and an older man averted his eyes as if caught red-handed. Oh.

Well, Moriyama was accustomed to the occasional gawker, male or female. The women tended to be the ones bold enough to stare openly. The men, more often than not, acted like shy maidens who'd been found doing something inappropriate.

But, since he clearly had this salaryman's attention, he decided to test out yesterday's theory. Moriyama waited for the man to look his way again, and then he gave him a winning smile.

As with the girls last night, the man's interest cooled. He stood up a bit straighter and pressed the destination button, getting off once the bus pulled over to the side of the road.

How rude!

Moriyama wore a scowl for the rest of the ride. He eased up by the time he entered the lobby at Ukai Corp., and the light orange check-in desk seemed welcoming as he swiped his employee badge and went upstairs. By the moment he arrived at his desk, he felt almost completely better, not fully so only because he could've used Terushima's chipper morning-person attitude right then.

"…and no, I'm not saying" came Ennoshita's disgruntled voice from Sugawara's open door. Sugawara laughed in response.

Okay. No overexcited puppy Terushima to entertain him, but this sounded promising.

Ennoshita walked out of the Marketing manager's office, looking relieved for a fraction of a second when he saw Moriyama had arrived. Then his expression went flat when Sugawara followed his subordinate out and slung an arm around his shoulders.

"Come on, Ennoshita…! Daichi and I can't swing by The Roost as much as we'd like. So I expect you to keep me updated on all the goings-on that occur," the sandy-haired man practically whined.

"No, you want me to share gossip that involves me, and I'm not biting, Sugawara-san."

Sugawara raised his eyebrows, glee evident in his pale brown eyes. "Something Tanaka probably did not say last night, eh?"

Ennoshita turned redder than the hair of Kise's former Miracles captain. But he said nothing more and stomped towards Moriyama to pass the latter some files. At least Sugawara took the hint and whistled as he waltzed back into his office…though he could be heard laughing again as he shut the door this time.

Moriyama bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. "Good morning," he managed, only cracking a friendly smile.

Ennoshita groaned. "Don't join him," he insisted with his back to their boss's office.

"In doing what?"

The brunet blanched, realizing he'd have to give an explanation in order to give clear instructions. "Just—don't become someone like him," he bumbled.

Moriyama chuckled. "It's fine. I like being me." Which was true. He had a good life, a good job, good friends, came from a good family. So what that his smile was too much for strangers to handle? Kobori liked it, a lot.

And yet…

But Moriyama shoved his odd thoughts to the back of his mind. He took a long look at his supervisor, feeling something was…off. "Hang on. The suit's new, but…aren't those the shirt and tie you wore yesterday, Ennoshita?"

Once more, Ennoshita's cheeks grew hot, but he didn't get angry with Moriyama. Instead, he spluttered, "I just—I forgot, okay?"

"Forgot what?"

Ennoshita grabbed the empty chair from what used to be his desk out on the floor and pulled up beside the older man. "I stayed at a…friend's last night, where I'd left this suit," he said, tugging on a deep green lapel, "but…I forgot to leave a fresh shirt there and a different tie."

"The tie I would've assumed was a favorite," Moriyama said of the raspberry-hued neckwear. "But the shirt? And on a school night?" His grin widened.

"Don't stare," Ennoshita reminded him with a pointed look. "Sugawara-san noticed right away, and he's begging for details about me and…my friend."

It was funny. Moriyama had not noticed the same thing. Instead, he paid more attention to Ennoshita's words. Yesterday, Ennoshita had mentioned Narita so easily. But today's use of "friend" was like Moriyama's use when speaking of Kobori, and it made Moriyama wonder. "Person must be a good friend," he remarked.

"…yeah," Ennoshita admitted, softening. A gentle, private smile curved his lips upward, reminding Moriyama of that time in university when Kasamatsu had his epiphany that maybe, just maybe, he really liked Kise, and that the blond deserved a chance to show he was serious in his love for his senpai.

Friends and seriousness and romance. "Hmm."

"What?" Ennoshita asked.

"Nothing," the olive-haired man lied. "Good for you, Ennoshita." Now that, he meant. He almost added a casual "I'm jealous," but he kept those words to himself, suddenly not sure he wanted to share….

"Today I—" Moriyama stopped short as his nose caught a whiff of what Kobori had just popped into the oven. "You made the cookies," he stated dumbly, his eyes glued to his roommate as the other man cleaned up after their late dinner.

"I did," Kobori said. He laughed at himself. "It's why we ate late, because I prepped those first. Frankly, I couldn't help myself after what you said last night. The freshly ground cinnamon really is nice."

"Thanks," Moriyama remembered to say at the last second. He was…flustered. This little indulgence made him feel pampered. Kobori really was a good guy.

"Least I can do since you bought the mill." Kobori checked the kitchen timer and pocketed it. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "So, I've got the timer, so I can hear it on the balcony, but I'll be at the telescope, if you need me."

Moriyama nodded and ushered him towards the balcony. He watched Kobori open the sliding door and step out onto the private balcony, and he smiled when Kobori left the door ajar like usual, a standing invitation should Moriyama ever join him in his stargazing hobby.

Sometimes Moriyama thought he might. But he was an early riser in contrast with Kobori's being a night owl. It was wisest he stay away rather than rudely fall asleep while they hung out.

So he went and took a quick shower. He settled in to watch the news for a bit—thank gods the hack rumors were old, unconfirmed stories these days—but Moriyama was bored by himself. His stomach growled the closer the cookies grew to being done.

Thankfully, the timer beeped, but Moriyama waved Kobori back to his telescope and observation journal. He took the tray out himself, and he poured two glasses of cold green tea while the cookies cooled.

"You really do sit out here no matter the temperature," he remarked as he came outside and passed one tea to Kobori.

"Ah, thanks. And, yeah, I do." Kobori sipped his drink and stared up at the night sky. "As long as the sky's clear, I'll be here to enjoy it." Kobori talked about most things with enthusiasm, but this…this was different. This quiet excitement was more intense, more enthralling.

Ahh. Why had he not come out to the balcony sooner?

Kobori glanced at him. "What? Do you want to give the stars a look?"

Moriyama shook his head, believing he'd likely break the expensive telescope if he touched it. So he motioned his head to the observational notebook in Kobori's lap instead. "What do you even record in there? Planetary motion? The constellations?"

"Something like that."

"The only thing I know about constellations comes from Tanabata." Moriyama paused. "And the Dippers, I suppose."

Kobori grinned and scooted his chair closer. "I can teach you about some of the others, if you want. There's everything from animals to inanimate objects to concepts to people. Kings and brothers and hunters and a princess."

"A princess?" Oops. Moriyama's interest piqued hearing that, and his imagination ran wild, depicting various beauties.

His friend laughed. "Yes, a princess. I take it that's a 'yes'?"

Moriyama pursed his lips, since Kobori was right on the mark. "Yes…."

He fell asleep in the spare seat on the balcony, dreams full of stars and chairs and princesses and Kobori. Moriyama hadn't meant to fall asleep, but he was bad at staying up late, and Kobori hadn't been bothered when Moriyama rested his head on the larger man's shoulder while Kobori told him myths and legends, from Japan and beyond.

But Moriyama also recalled falling asleep outside. He was a tad surprised to discover in the morning that he was tucked into Kobori's bed, the other man's form at his back.

Moriyama patted his chest. His clothes were still on. All right. So last night hadn't been one of their sexy nights. But still. Even after sex, usually they returned to their respective beds.

Hmm.

He turned onto his other side, yanking the sheet up over his shoulders and gazing at a back wider and more reliable than his. Kobori, he thought, really was a good man. Making sure Moriyama slept in a proper bed, cooking food Moriyama liked, taking care of things around the apartment even though Moriyama was more than capable of doing chores himself, not being annoyed with or tired of Moriyama's personality—

Kobori Kouji was a good catch.

Moriyama blinked in the darkness, his eyes adjusting and outlining more of Kobori's shape as the computer tech turned in his sleep to face his roommate. Moriyama was stunned the notion hadn't struck him sooner, but it had, now. Kobori was a friendly person with a slew of great qualities about him—plus his skills! He was a hard worker and already led a department at their company. And he was so sweet after making love, not saying anything but letting his expression say it all, holding on for a bit even if actual cuddling was off and had never been on the table, just as kissing was something meant only for the bedroom.

Shit. Kobori could…do better than Moriyama. And deserved better than Moriyama.

Moriyama frowned upon his realization, but he knew it was true. Their life together was good, but this…was a bad situation. It wasn't just Kobori being marriageable, but Moriyama's lack of seriousness. He still got distracted by pretty women multiple times a week if not once a day—sometimes the rare, androgynous man made him stop for a second look. But he didn't have that twinkle in his eye Kasamatsu and Kise had for each other or that confident smile Ennoshita had for his "friend." …well, damn. He really felt it. "I'm jealous," he thought aloud quietly.

Kobori stirred. He squeezed his eyes shut, blinking the sleep dust from them, and slowly opened them. "Did you say something?" he asked, his voice still thick with grogginess.

"Nothing, sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," he said, ending with a yawn and stretching his free arm. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah. But I thought we'd been on the balcony."

"We were. You held on almost 'til one in the morning, but then you were fast asleep in the chair beside me. I got tired after four and finally called it a night myself. But I was too tired to do anything other than carry you in here. Sorry 'bout that."

"Oh." Moriyama tried to think about anything besides how strong Kobori was to be able to carry him like that, even though the larger man, proportionally, was more willowy than he was. "Ah!"

"What?"

"The cookies!"

Kobori raised an eyebrow, a motion Moriyama sensed more than saw. "What about them? You took them out of the oven last night before coming out to the balcony, remember?"

"Oh. Right." Moriyama frowned. "Damn. Now they're cold."

"So we heat them up and have them for breakfast," Kobori suggested. He resituated himself, putting less distance between them on the mattress but staying far enough away nevertheless. The only difference was his head on the edge of his pillow, close enough that they'd bump heads if Moriyama looked up. "If you don't mind, though," Kobori mumbled, "I could use another five minutes."

"Sure," Moriyama agreed, but he didn't go back to sleep. Instead, he watched Kobori's sleeping face—another thing he'd never done before, like stargazing.

Fifteen minutes later, Kobori woke up properly. They exited his room, and he brewed coffee for himself and tea for Moriyama. Then he microwaved a third of the cookies and sat on the couch with Moriyama, the two eating as they flipped back and forth amongst the various Sunday morning variety shows.

All the while, Moriyama thought about these experiences he shared with Kobori, all the firsts he had with Kobori…all of the things he shared with Kobori. And he wondered if maybe they should belong to somebody else. He wasn't in love with Kobori, so shouldn't be Kobori living this life with someone who was?

The next several days found Moriyama spacing out between tasks. Even on his lunch break, he went up to the roof to clear his mind by shooting some hoops. There was no gym in the building, but there was a basketball hoop up on the roof and an old basketball for employees to use on their breaks. Moriyama lucked out, having both to himself.

But having Kobori to himself… What a silly idea, he internally groused as a gust of wind caught his shot and bounced the ball off the rim. Moriyama frowned not at that but at his inner musings. He knew Kobori was a good catch. He knew Kobori's type—a woman who lived in moderation and behaved as such, the gentle type—was not hard to find. So how could he help his friend land that special someone?

He dribbled the ball mindlessly as he stood there, thinking about what the future would look like. He couldn't stay in that apartment on his own; it worked only with both of their salaries. But it wasn't just that. He'd see less of Kobori, too, just as he saw less of Kasamatsu after Kaijou's former captain finally gave in to their former ace. The same went for Hayakawa and Nakamura, his friends despite being the year after him. And, of course, Kise, who'd all but dropped from the public eye once he settled into a pilot's life and made work and Kasamatsu his only priorities.

Maybe life was supposed to go that way. Maybe a guy wasn't supposed to keep connected to his high school teammates. Maybe a guy was expected to leave those relationships behind at some point, to embrace new faces in his life, and, if old faces happened to remain in the picture, then that was that and didn't mean anything.

Of course, he could just hear the others now, if they heard him. Kise and Hayakawa probably would be impressed, hearing him be more reflective and mawkish than they knew him to be. Nakamura might scrutinize him over the rims of his glasses and remind him that he still considered his senpai a friend, no matter what. Kasamatsu undoubtedly would see right through him, send him a glare, and tell him he was talking nonsense; if Moriyama were unlucky, he'd probably even receive one of those infamous kicks Kise had received for years. And Kobori?

He tried not to think too much about how Kobori would react. But his imagination kept drawing Kobori's frown in his mind's eye, and it was an image that made Moriyama uneasy.

On that note, something else occurred to him: If he wanted to set things straight and send Kobori on his happy way, then he'd have to draw a line between them. And he'd have to tell Kobori as much.

Interesting. He'd never gotten close enough to someone to break up with them. He wondered if it felt something like this…

As for telling someone off, Kasamatsu was an expert, and Moriyama considered calling Kaijou's assistant basketball coach for some tips. …then again, maybe this required a visit, so Kasamatsu wouldn't misunderstand. Besides, Kanagawa was only a hop and a train away.

But days passed, and Moriyama didn't act on the idea. As the weekend neared with every passing hour come Friday, he figured it was for one of two reasons: Kasamatsu might not believe Moriyama was involved in such a way with Kobori to begin with, and Moriyama didn't think he could make a stop at Kaijou alone without sparking Kobori's interest.

The dark-haired man found himself frowning since he'd dragged his feet, and he shut down his computer and was one of the last ones out of Marketing that evening. Even Ennoshita's office was dark, and the door was closed.

Agh. He really could've used a friendly chat on the way out to distract him…!

"Oh, Moriyama! You're still here?"

He turned at Sugawara's voice and paused so the shorter man could catch up. "I'm on my way out."

"Mind if I join you?" Sugawara fell into step with him and loosened his tie. Though his steps were shorter and numerous to keep up with Moriyama, he acted as though their paces matched and peered up at him. "How unusual for you to stay late."

"I got absorbed in something," Moriyama answered. Which was true. It just hadn't been work.

"I see…" Sugawara thanked him as the other man held the door to the stairwell open for him. "That happens to me on occasion, but I usually get scolded for not coming up for air."

Moriyama didn't have to imagine that. Even though Sawamura, Sugawara's partner, worked in Production down on the second floor, he often came upstairs to pull the Marketing manager from his swivel chair, and everyone in the department had seen or heard their boss nagged at least once.

"You've got the right amount of focus, though," the sandy-haired man continued, recapturing Moriyama's attention. "You work when you need to and stop when you don't. I envy your punctuality for stopping right when the clock does."

Uh-oh. "Are you implying I've acted wrong? Neither you nor Ennoshita have said I've left anything unfinished."

Sugawara swatted the idea away. "No, you're good. I mean it when I say I'm envious." He made a face, scrunching up his nose and pouting. "I want to stick to a schedule, too. Get up, go to work, leave timely to get home to my honey…"

Moriyama chuckled dryly, but only partly at poor Sawamura's maudlin descriptor. "Uh… I'm not going home to anyone…"

"You aren't? Oh. My mistake, sorry."

The dark-haired man shook his head. Technically, at this hour, Kobori was likely to be home already, but Moriyama wasn't going home to him in the way Sugawara implied. …no. He wasn't, and he never would. Someone else would, eventually, he knew.

He glanced at the beauty-marked manager while Sugawara stared. "You know, I'm kind of surprised."

"By what?"

"That you're a bachelor."

Moriyama blinked. "Really?"

"Sure." Sugawara halted their conversation as they reached the main floor, and he picked it up as they slowed near the lobby's front desk. "You're a smart, handsome guy, Moriyama." He grinned. "You fit right in with us Marketing 'studs.'"

He humored his boss with a wan smile, but…hmm. Would it be the worst thing in the world to test it out now? Before he changed his mind, he morphed his wan smile into one of his best ones, and—

"All right. You fit in—except when you do that."

"Huh?" He blinked again, in disbelief, and he dropped the grin. "Is it that bad?"

Sugawara sighed. "Moriyama… You're handsome, you are, and you have a nice smile. But not this one."

Agh, damn it. "It's scary, isn't it? Or"—and this was worse—"creepy."

"No. No," Sugawara repeated with a vehement shake of his head. "Not scary. Or creepy."

"Then what?"

"It's…" Sugawara tapped his foot and checked his watch. He scanned the lobby and, as Sawamura had not arrived, continued. His pale brown eyes bored holes into his subordinate. "It's intense. Maybe a little off-putting."

Moriyama grimaced. "That doesn't sound any better, Sugawara."

"It is, though. Either way, that's what some of the single women in our department have been scared off by. You're a known flirt, but that smile shows that you're…too eager, I guess? It's not bad, but just tone it down a bit."

Holy crap. All this time—that was all it was? Knowing that, he perked up and tipped his head to Sugawara. "Thank you. I'm surprised no one ever said anything before."

"Never?"

"No." Ahh, his mood was lifting…! "So I might stand a chance next time."

Sugawara put one hand on his hip, the other lightly swinging his bag. "You know, I really thought you had someone already."

That again. But Moriyama brushed it off with a lighthearted chuckle. "Why?"

"Because. I figured you didn't care how strong you came on when flirting because the flirting was harmless and didn't matter, since whoever waited at home—" He stopped short, his face lighting up. "Ah! Daichi!"

Sawamura joined them and greeted Moriyama, but the latter couldn't be bothered to return the friendly exchange with enthusiasm. The couple left, and Moriyama felt as if his feet were glued to the spot.

He didn't need Sugawara to finish his sentence. Moriyama was smart enough to fill in the blanks.

Whoever waited at home accepted Moriyama and his flirty-ness and flawed smile.

He trudged home after, it never occurring to him that Sugawara had said of him what he'd been thinking of Kobori, that he was a good catch. No, he was too focused on how to end things, because now…now he realized how comfortable he was with things as they currently stood. And, if he didn't fix that soon, it'd be unfair to Kobori. He could handle being unfair to himself as long as Kobori drew the fair lot in life.

The following day, Moriyama hopped up from his desk as soon as his lunch hour began. He descended the stairs and made his way to I.T. in the basement, though he'd never been before.

The I.T. offices resembled the bullpen up in Marketing, with tables running the length of the room and short walls put up to give a modicum of privacy as needed. The color scheme was the same as anywhere else in the building—all concrete grays and washed-out oranges—but one notable difference was the temperature. It was chillier down here with the big fans turning to cool the servers and assorted other technology, so Moriyama was glad he'd slipped his suit jacket back on before coming here.

He didn't have to flag anyone to fetch Kobori, nor did he have to go searching himself. Kobori left a large desk at the far end of the room with a man in a red polo, and they chatted as they headed in Moriyama's direction. But Nakamura, at a nearby station, noticed Moriyama and interrupted the two, motioning with a jerk of his head to the Marketing employee.

Kobori's eyes flicked from Nakamura to Moriyama, and he appeared a tad stunned. He excused himself and left the shaven-haired man in red behind. "Moriyama? What are you doing here?" he asked once he was in earshot.

"Lunchtime," Moriyama reminded him.

The I.T. manager checked his watch. "No, I—I know the time. But you're here."

Internally, Moriyama grimaced. He could do things his own way, but acting unusual hadn't been a good idea. Still, he wanted to try this at least once, considering what he'd have to say later tonight. "Yeah, I'm here. Are you not hungry yet?"

Kobori shook his head and patted Moriyama's shoulder as he turned him around and they left the basement. "No, no, I can eat. Just—it's nice."

Moriyama had to agree. Sure, it felt strange, having all those eyes on him as he entered the room, but it was fun, collecting Kobori. Like proclaiming some kind of ownership…which he'd be giving up soon enough. But still.

They went to a small Korean barbeque shop up the street, a place Moriyama had recommended to Ennoshita not long ago. There were two open seats at the counter, so they ordered and waited and ate, all the while Kobori told him about a "dumb coding error" Narita had found in some old lines written by someone who'd left the company a long time ago. Much of his story was chock full of terms that mystified Moriyama, but he could enjoy the anecdote all the same, especially when Kobori was this vibrant when recounting it.

Sadly, lunch had to end at some point. The former teammates strolled back to headquarters at not much more than a snail's pace, and Moriyama stuck his hands in his pockets while Kobori prattled on about something else. They'd walked together countless times before, but this was, as Kobori put it, nice.

Near their building, he spied Kobori glancing at the arm nearer him.

"Something up?"

Kobori chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. "Nope. Nothing."

Then they were back. Moriyama briefly looked up, squinting at the sunlight that glinted off the giant Ukai Corp. logo on the top, right corner of the building, the large U.C. underlined by a matching orange feather.

"Moriyama?"

He met Kobori's eyes for less than half a second. "Yeah, I know. Back to work."

"Yeah. Hey, I'll see you later, okay?" Kobori raised his eyebrows, as if waiting to be promised, and he went inside with a grin only after Moriyama nodded.

Damn. This was going to be hard to do.

The tick-tock of the clock put him on edge as the day wound down. He felt more jittery than when the ball was in the air as the buzzer blared on the court… And, yet, he'd survived those games, won or lost. He had to believe he'd survive this, too. Right? Hmm.

The day ended. He tidied up his desk and scrunched up an old sticky note, tossing it into the waste basket without looking.

"Ha!" Ennoshita exclaimed behind him.

Moriyama turned, eyes wide at Ennoshita standing there victoriously, the paper wad in his grasp. "You caught it."

"I did!"

"…which is fine in basketball, but aren't you not supposed to do that in volleyball?"

Ennoshita grew flustered and dropped it like a hot potato. "Uh! Well, no, not in volleyball, but cut me some slack! I finally stopped one of your shots…!"

Moriyama sighed, the sound reminiscent of a breathy, uneasy chuckle. "I guess you did," he replied as he put his suit jacket on and grabbed his bag.

"You can't be perfect, Moriyama-san," Ennoshita stated, throwing the trash away. "Sometimes it's important to miss your mark completely."

"I'll keep that in mind. Have a good night!"

It felt easier to breathe downstairs in the lobby. Ten more feet, and then he'd catch the bus home. And then— "Moriyama!"

He glimpsed Kobori waiting for him in one of the lobby chairs, so he caught up with him. "You're here," he stated dumbly, an echo of Kobori's earlier amazement.

Kobori got to his feet, slipped his pack over his head, and met Moriyama halfway. "I am. Ready to go home?"

Moriyama gaped at him. He was at a loss for words, so they left the building, and Kobori led the way to the bus stop.

Even though Kobori said nothing, he appeared to be in a good mood, all covert smiles and loosely linked fingers in his lap and feet tapping out a nonsense rhythm on the bus's floor as they rode home. When their stop came up, he was the first off the vehicle, and the small smile he had for Moriyama as he waited for the other man to disembark—

That. That was blinding, and Kise couldn't even compare.

"We're almost home, but I've no plans for food," Kobori thought aloud as they passed the basketball court. "What do you want for dinner?"

Moriyama furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. He didn't want to discuss meal plans right now. "Kobori…"

"Yeah?"

"There's something I want to discuss. And not dinner." He let that hang in the air while they entered the building and took the elevator to the eighth floor. Their apartment was three doors down, and Moriyama followed Kobori in with a gloomy expression. Somehow, the happier Kobori was, the gloomier Moriyama felt. Maybe he should just do this another night…

No! He had a plan. Sort of. It was vague, but it was a plan nevertheless!

"Kobori!"

Kobori looked at his roommate over his shoulder after putting his shoes away. "What? Did you make up your mind about food?"

"No."

"Is there something else you wanted to do?" Maybe involuntarily, he glanced at the balcony. It was clear on his face, how he enjoyed the memory of last Saturday.

"Kobori, we've…got to stop."

Kobori stood up straight. He cast his pack to the side and tugged on Moriyama's briefcase until the latter relented and let go. Then he tugged on Moriyama's hand, stopping when Moriyama shrugged him off to change out of his shoes. "Moriyama," he began when the olive-haired man stood but didn't meet his eyes, "what are you talking about?"

In all honesty, Moriyama knew this was best done when not looking him in the eye, even though it was cowardly. So he kept his eyes on the corner of the kitchen counter to his left. "This. Living together, indulging each other, sleeping together—you ought to be doing these things with someone you love, with someone who can take this seriously and see a future with you and actually make you happy." There. He'd said it. One Band-Aid, freshly ripped off.

And yet Kobori wore this deer-in-the-headlights expression. Moriyama considered backpedaling, softening the blow, until Kobori amazingly…quirked an eyebrow. "Technically," the tech said, "you don't have to do those things only with someone you love—"

Moriyama groaned. "That's what caught your interest?"

"—but who said I'm not and you aren't?"

"…huh?"

But Kobori shrugged casually. He tugged on Moriyama's right hand again and succeeded in getting him to enter their place properly. They locked eyes, even, in Moriyama's shock. "Here's another way to view it: Aren't you taking us seriously, considering how worried you've been about me to reach this—ah, pardon—idiotic conclusion?"

Moriyama furrowed his brow, gob-smacked. "Ah—"

"I take it there are probably some silly ideas floating around in there," Kobori added, brushing some hair back from Moriyama's forehead, "about me marrying some girl and settling down?"

"Uh— Well— I— Yeah." Kobori knew him too well.

Kobori shook his head and very nearly smirked. "Who says I can't do those things with you?"

All right. Somehow things had gone from zero to sixty in five seconds. "Huh?!"

"Rather, I should say, 'Who says I haven't already done those things with you?'" Kobori smiled, relieved, and his shoulders dropped half an inch. "To be honest, I dug my heels in a long time ago, so my parents gave up changing my mind. Granted, their response was that they at least still have my younger brother, which wasn't encouraging, but—"

"Hold on." Moriyama grabbed his shirt and stood on the balls of his feet so they were eye to eye. His anxiety had not evaporated. "Don't you get what I'm trying to say?!"

"I can see you care, a lot, about me," Kobori replied softly, smoothly. He brought a hand up to cover one of Moriyama's.

"But I— Women—" He hadn't dreamt Kobori would be the unfair one here.

And Kobori wasn't. "I get it. So you're bi. But," he continued, placing his other hand on Moriyama's waist, "I doubt anyone else can make you feel the way I make you feel." He punctuated his declaration with a loose hug, and he released a content sigh like some cat basking in warm sunlight.

And Moriyama? Moriyama was dumbfounded—and developing a headache at how things had gone in the wrong direction. He'd missed his mark, as Ennoshita had phrased it. But…the confused part of him felt funny. Uneasy? Bubbly?

Happy?

Hmm…oh. "But—"

Kobori backed off, not convinced Moriyama didn't accept this yet. "Why 'but'? Yoshitaka, I love you. But you do things your own way, out of order. It just took you until now to realize you feel the same about me, otherwise you wouldn't have gotten this weird idea into your head about putting my needs first." He pecked the top of Moriyama's head and lightly pushed on his shoulders until Moriyama stood flat on the floor. "Now. What do you want for dinner?"

Moriyama gave him a reproving look. Use of first names outside of the bedroom was playing dirty. But he gave Kobori his flirtiest smile, and his pulse quickened when Kobori laughed and kissed him.

Ahh…! He'd never be able to tease Kasamatsu over Kise ever again, having been so oblivious himself… But, he thought as Kobori went to rummage in the cupboards, it wasn't so bad, coming home to someone who loved his unorthodox manners…

"Wait, you love me?!"

XD Honestly, considering the tone of some of the other side stories set after/during "Opportunity," I wanted this one to have a lighthearted feel, even when Moriyama ridiculously decided Kobori could do better. Psshaw. C'mon, Mori. ;) It's been a while since I last wrote for KnB (I think last one was the 4th in my Iwaizumi&Kasamatsu are cousins AU?), but KnB will always have a spot in my heart like Sailor Moon and HQ!!—I love these series way too much to ever leave. XD That was why it was fun also to write a little about some of the other KnB headcanons for the BoaF universe, like Kikasa and Hayanaka. I hope I have the chance to revisit my fav KnB charries as more than just support charries or background namedrops, but we'll just have to see how BoaF itself develops and expands. -w-

Some thoughts:

-The title: Okay, I tried really hard to find a fitting title for this, but after I settled on "Unorthodox," I realized I'd had a brain fart and had COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN that's how they describe Moriyama's style to begin with in KnB. XD Then again, I liked expanding that canon into him doing other things out of order. It works for Moriyama. XD

-A catchphrase: At least, that's how I felt "Hmm" became for Moriyama. Poor guy was lost in thought a lot. ;]

-Moriyama & the cinnamon mill: I wrote some headcanons before (Morizuki, Miyazukiyama) that Moriyama is forever a victim of impulse buys. ;P

-Kobori really does enjoy astronomy and stargazing; it's canon, and I love it. This boy is romantic without even trying. =w=

-Tanabata: For those who don't know, it's a holiday celebrated both in Japan and in China (as the Qixi Festival). Also called the Star Festival, it celebrates the time of year when two lovers, usually barred by the Milky Way, can cross the night sky and meet at last. They can only meet once a year, so the romantic notion ties in with wish-making, and the Japanese will tie their wishes (tanzaku) to bamboo branches in the hopes they'll be granted . I first learned of Tanabata as a little girl thanks to a bonus chapter of the Sailor Moon manga and have always been fascinated by it. I know Moriyama mentions it in passing, but it's still a romantic idea, especially considering Kobori's hobby, and I just. I encourage everyone to read up on Tanabata. *happy sigh* :3

-Kobori's "type" is also based on canon, taken from his profile page in one of the guide books.

-I wanted to gush in case anyone missed it: When Komori walk back to U.C. after eating Korean BBQ, Kobori keeps eyeing Moriyama 'cuz the poor baby wanted to hold hands. So precious.

-Lastly, the song "Kikasetai no Wa" ("Things I Want You to Hear") by nekobolo/sasanomaly helped inspire the story, and I thought it fitting over the overall plot. And, boy, did they have things they wanted the other to hear. XD

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or the AO3 link at the top of the post! The 7th EnnoTana story, "Personal Day," will be posted in the Birds of a Feather collection in a while (there's another bunch of side stories following that one), so please stay tuned! And check out my other [HQ!!] fics if you liked this, too!

~mew

And if you want to support Birds of a Feather, please swing by its FFN and AO3 versions and consider liking and reblogging these posts on my tumblr!

#knb #kuroko no basuke #Birds of a Feather #komori #moriyama yoshitaka #kobori kouji #mew writes too much #fanfic #ennoshita chikara #sugawara koushi

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