#this is still one of my most favourite doodles ever it took 5 seconds he's so plump he'xs SO HIM LOOK

[squishwashere]

frogee

[harfanfare]

How to win a heart of Jamil Viper?

1.   Don’t be a typical hero(ine).

Contrary to the popular romance trope, tripping over the air to land on a certain cool-looking boy, and dropping all carried things, wouldn’t make Jamil fall for you. Instead, just falling because of you and sharply crashing with a floor would make him rather cautious around you and keeping a distance whether he has anything in his hands.

Believe him or not, he doesn’t need another ditsy and erratic person around him—like a certain leader from a certain dorm, who happens to create a mess anytime, anywhere.

So, let someone else be the protagonist of the story.

In that situation, you may be a side character that gets its way through obstacles and classic borders of story scheme and is much more interesting than the main persona.

That’s how you get his attention.

‎‎‎‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2.   Be a help.

Oh, a person that would help him with his chores means to him much more than gold. Sometimes.

“Can I help you anyhow?” you asked when Jamil was going to the kitchen after a daily training with the rest of the dorm. He lifted his eyebrow, waiting for further explanation. “I mean with cleaning or something.”

Jamil glanced at you, not sure about your intentions.

Who would like to do something to help without having something in return? With only your will? No, it doesn’t work well in the same sentence.

But some help would be great. So, he just needs to keep sure that he won’t fall into any trap for letting you help, yes?

“Sure,” he said casually, not letting his face nor voice reveal any of his thoughts he run into. “[Name], right? Could you bring and clean the dishes from longue?”

And you helped. You really helped him a lot, staying over two hours till everything was shimmering with cleanliness and your abrupt desire to clean something and be more useful, burned out.

“Thank you for your help,” Jamil said, after correcting the last cushion in the Scarabia’s longue. You flashed him a smile. “But why, if I can ask, did you offer it in the first place?”

He got a quick response in form of a shrug.

“I... don’t really know,” you admitted, glancing at him. “...But you don’t complain, no?”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

3.   Be his dish taster.

“The way to a one's heart is through his stomach.”

“Try it,” Jamil handed you a spoon filled with some kind of stew. You consentaneously your opened mouth and drank all content of the spoon. Your mouth filled with many flavours and you couldn’t be sure if you ever ate that good combination in your life. “How was that?”

“Excellent as always.”

You said it all sincerely and maybe would have asked for seconds, if not the fact that Jamil already turned his back to you and got back to pots. He took another spoon and tried the dish himself, clicked his tongue and added more salt.

Once again, he turned to you and handed you a spoon.

“And how was that now?”

“Excellent as always,” you chuckled as he frowned at you.

“Don’t you think that you should add more words to your dictionary? You say the same thing on every dish,” once he said that you finished drying the last plate and preparing silverware for today’s fiesta.

“Don’t you think that I won’t be able to eat anything at the party when I will eat enough of your cooking now to write a poem about each of your culinary masterpieces?” Jamil chuckled slightly at your words.

“So, you don’t want any more?” he teased, but inside he was really flushed. Praises or cajolery, it all makes his heart skip a beat.

Finally, there was someone who appreciated all work he’s done.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

4.   Distract Kalim from him.

“You really shouldn’t go there,” you said, your voice as serious as you could keep it. “I mean, what if there is a monster who wants to kidnap you?”

Kalim cocked his head a little, considering your words. After a while, he nodded, fully convinced by your argument.

“You’re right,” he said. “I will warn others about this..!”

Kalim turned on his heel and spotted some people returning from morning classes. He ran to them, greeting them and walking with them as he tried to introduce the situation.

Still not believing Kalim fall for your words, you were standing alone in the centre of the corridor, a bit dumbstruck to discover the excuse Jamil came up with work.

“...Are you sure, you don’t want to tell him that some student’s from other dorm are here?” you asked as if saying to yourself your thoughts aloud.

But there was someone, someone who was hiding behind a big potted palm. He only gave you thumbs up as a preventative measure if there was still a chance that Kalim didn’t just dash through the halls to talk with some dorm students.

Jamil only looked at you and mouthed “No. Party. Today.” and quietly shifted to the corner, where the wall hid him and he could finally get up.

Mission accomplished.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

5.   Get rid of bugs for him.

“[Name],” Jamil called out to you, bursting through the door to your room. He looked very pale and panic was staying still in his eyes. “Would you be so kind to... deal with an intruder?”

You frowned a little before biting back a sigh. At first, you were concerned. Even Kalim getting in a serious mess didn’t make him react that seriously. But then you remembered that there was one thing that could make Jamil call you out of nowhere, acting like in an emergency. Emergency only in eyes of few.

Bugs.

Jamil never admitted to you that he is scared of them, but every time you brought up the topis, he snapped his fingers at it, saying that insects just aren’t his favourite kind of animal.

“Hmm~ Maybe after I finish this chapter,” you said, conspicuously turning a page of the book you were reading and with all your will trying not to smile nor to look at the wincing expression Jamil was wearing.

“[Name],” he said, his voice shaking with anger or frustration. “Go there right now or I will make sure you won’t get today’s dinner.”

...No dinner?

“Yes, mum,” you said putting the textbook aside and getting up from the comfortable couch.

Of all people, Jamil is probably the only one—well, maybe also Trey—that could make those words sound dangerous. Like, no dinner made by the best chef in Scarabia? It would be pure agony.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6.   Have competitions.

“Aren’t you a little too good in this game?” you asked, regretfully placing pieces of the game back to the initial places.

He gave you a smile that slowly turned into a smirk, as you groaned at the next round you have lost. You flopped on the big pillow, all your will to play destroyed, as you sank between really cosy material.

“I told you I won’t give you a head start,” Jamil said, his steady voice mixed with amusement. “You even told me that you don’t want me to go easy on you before the game started.”

“Too bad,” you clicked your tongue at his response. “I was sure that after watching you play with Kalim, I remembered your tactics.”

You’ve watched at least eight rounds of Jamil and Kalim playing this game, and when it was coming to end, you were almost sure you understood and remembered the technique he was using in certain situations.

But, to your disappointment, it looked like he – even without using any of his tricky cards in his sleeve – was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, because, after three moves, you knew that probably all three were wrong when the opponent was Jamil.

“You gained nothing by it. Of course, I lost to him or... there would be a trouble,” he exclaimed. “You are different.”

“Oh, thank you. I can lose but he can’t, huh?” you frowned at him as he almost choked on the surprise he felt by hearing your response.

“...Yeah, that’s it. Just it.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

7.   Have study sessions together.

“One class had a test before us,” you said scrolling through your class chat group. “They said that there wasn’t any question about these dates.”

Jamil scribbled down years of the most important magic wars, from time to time looking at you who were listing some test exercises and feeling somehow unmotivated to even properly open a history book.

Your notebook was lying in front of you, today’s lesson topic on the top of the page and many detailed doodles on its margin.

Once again... what was the unit you are having an exam about?

“It doesn’t mean, we won’t get a question about that,” Jamil tried to convince you, sliding textbook your way. “Now, read that aloud, while I prepare notes.”

You blinked twice as if woken up from daydreaming. Were you daydreaming?

“Are you sure..? I mean, all I will do is reading. Wouldn’t you rather want us to read it silently and then share our notes after this?”

“Don’t think about it much. I really like your voice,” he said it so thoughtlessly you weren’t sure if said it as an unarguable fact or just his smooth talker abilities were showing off, “and gave me your notes for the last exam so we’re even. And you won’t do any good notes when you’re sulking over this exam like that.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

8.   Remind him to take breaks.

“You won’t get out of here,” you exclaimed spreading your arms as shielding a door from him. “Not a chance.”

Jamil stood a feet next to you, grimace stretching on his lips as he knew what’s coming up.

“I have to go, [Name].”

He tried to get through you, lightly removing you of his way. He wasn’t a fan of using force on anyone, and he was a hater of using force on you.

Much more than a speakable argument, you were pushing each other closer or further from the door, having a staring contest and reciting all the things he had done in the past two days; except for his daily duties and with the upcoming birthday party of few students of Scarabia who happen to have a celebration in the same day, the number of tasks he was given was overwhelming.

“Stop it!” you protested, trying to push him back. “I am seriously worried about you! Please... take a break.”

Every time he was coming closer to the exit, you stepped back, blocking his way, bumping into him and having to try again.

“You know I have a lot of work to do,” he said, finally stepping back and giving you a break from trying to separate him from the door. “I can’t just give up all my duties, even if I would love a break.”

“I can do it for you,” you quickly offered. “But please, now, go to sleep and don’t you dare touch anything related to school or cleaning.”

...What a weird request.

When was the last time anyone told him to take a break?

He doesn’t remember.

But now, he can say it was recently, all thanks to you.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

9.   Promise.

It was really hard for him once all his hard work to keep a high position within the dorm students suddenly dropped after his overblot accident.

“[Name]...”

However, the thing he regretted the most was hurting you. Taking the whole dorm under his unique magic spell, the hypnosis also affected you, making you another servant of his. Even you weren’t the one he ordered a lot, you felt betrayed that even the friendship you two developed didn’t stop him from overblotting.

And if he knew that you would avoid him like fire after the accident, he would probably hesitate a lot.

His throat tightened as he saw you one day in the corridor, looking somehow lonely and tired. He dashed to you, beseeching you to talk to him.

“Sorry for asking, but, Jamil, you don’t hate me, right?” you asked with a pain in your voice. You couldn’t even look at his face, feeling the incomprehensible weight in your gaze. “I mean... Do you only act in front of me friendly? ...Like... with Kalim..?”

“No, no, no,” he protested quickly, making it almost sound like a plea. He gently grabbed your hands, praying that you won’t harshly jerk them back because of him. “I don’t hate you. I really like you. I mean every word I said to you.”

The feeling of release struck you like thunder, you took a big breath, your eyes watering. You slowly reached for his touch, finally ending in a hug.

Jamil ran his fingers through your hair, smelling a familiar, reassuring scent of yours. After a while, he whispered a question.

“So... could you please not avoid me anymore? I know it will be hard to bring up the same relationship we had, but... could you give me a second chance?”

“Okay. But under one condition,” you said, slightly backing off from him. Before he could wonder about the term you would require from him, you finished your thought. “You must be honest with me. I... don’t know what will I do if it all turned to be a play...”

“I will,” he replied, putting his whole heart in these two words. “I will always be honest with you. And won’t ever use my unique magic on you.”

You looked up at him, a small smile starting to rise and heart-throbbing more wilder with his words. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

10.            Make him confess.

“What are you doing this weekend?”

Jamil appeared in front of you, almost like popping out of nowhere, as you were done with today’s lessons and slowly heading to your dorm. He caught up with you, changing his pace to match yours.

“I have no plans. I will be probably sleeping or something,” you answered honestly, shrugging and reminding yourself that you should finally hang out with some people from your class to make sure your social life isn’t all over dead.

You were walking in quietly before Jamil broke silence and spoke up again.

“Would you like to go somewhere?” he asked his voice only giving a hint of nervousness—it was nothing compared to the stress he felt inside. It was just a “yes or no” question, he knew that he will meet in future many amazing people like you and shouldn’t be stressed, but having someone so dear to him being asked for a meeting where he will try to finally out find his feeling... it is stressful.

“Hehe~ what, are you asking me on the date?” you teased, but much more than mocking, you were hoping for an answer. For the honest answer, he promised you.

“...And what if I am?” he asked, his voice a bit hushed, but steady.

You felt how heat was coming all the way up to your cheeks, although you tried your best not to let anything more, as if a blush wasn’t obvious enough, know how excited and spellbound you are.

“Then, your wish is my command.”

[dancingaliensfics]

♡My Prison Pen Pal♡

Helmut Zemo x reader

Word count: 1,802

Warnings: swearing, mentions of prison and crimes and slight angst to do with his family

A/N: its finally here! I havent writen a fic in a long time so hopefully you guys like this! I tried to avoid using idioms and things like that but message me if you need anything explained or reworded as I know most people aren't native English speakers

@sorcerersofnyc

♡♡♡

His first letter came during the series finale of your favourite show. A rather inconvenient moment, you thought, so it stayed on the welcome mat until you passed through the hall on your way to bed. Picking it up, you figured you'd skim the first few lines then finish it and write a reply before work. Instead, you found yourself writing and rewriting a reply through the night. Somehow this man had managed to enthrall you with only a letter. Maybe it was the way he wrote as if he was some elegant poet whose sonnets would one day be hailed as classics. How he managed to be open and expressive, exuding a welcoming aura, and yet still seeming mysterious. Or perhaps it was simply fated by the stars that Helmut Zemo would capture your heart.

You waited anxiously for his second letter to arrive. After sending the first, you hadn't cared whether you got a response, the whole thing seemed like a bad idea to you. But your mother was insistent that you needed to meet new people and this way you wouldn't need to worry about awkward face to face conversations. Sending the first letter felt like any other chore you do in the day, done with much effort and resignment but forgotten within minutes. But the second? It felt like the most important thing you'd done in a long time. You'd even bought a first class stamp (not that it makes a difference).

You wanted to know more about this intriguing man. No, supervillain. Charged with international terrorism. Jesus christ what the fuck was wrong with you? Were you really falling in love with a supervillain after one letter? But he didn't seem evil to you. He wrote eloquently, somehow his simple and brief description of his day (he'd started reading a new psychology book, you'd have to send him some recommendations) sounded fascinating in his words.

Over time, you started to notice small things about Helmut. The way he crossed his t's, how he signed his name, but mainly that there was a romanticism to his writing. From the way he described his home, his wife, his son to his recipes for Sokovian dishes with small notes and doodles (your favourite was his shepherd's pie recipe where he helpfully noted his mother's assertion that you should always add more than you think you need). It was becoming clear to you that he wasn't the stoic and vengeful baron you expected but rather a soft, lonely and endearingly weird man who you couldn't imagine plotting to destroy the Avengers. Whilst it was his mystery that first captivated you, it was his sweet and sometimes awkward personality that convinced you to keep writing.

It took a while for Helmut to tell you about his family. You had heard on the news back when he first arrested about his motive, so you were interested to hear his perspective on his crimes. But that wasn't what you got. Instead, he told you about when he and his father used to play football when he was young and how they would play a match every time he visited, with Helmut playing against his father and son, who always wanted to play with grandfather. He told you of the songs his wife used to sing, how her voice was always loud and shaky and after years of singing somewhere over the rainbow she would still forget the lyrics and invent her own. He told you how his son was the best pianist he had ever heard. How he could play the greatest rendition of amazing grace and that he had just learnt the theme from swan lake. That he had been excited to practice it on his grandfathers grand piano the day Ultron attacked.

There was something so human about this man. His love for his family, his loss and grief, his plan to avenge his family, it was all so tragic and yet here he was sending you drawings of the flowers from his garden growing up. You wanted to hug him and yet sometimes you felt he wouldn't need it, wouldn't want it. You were wrong.

Helmut Zemo missed his family. He told you so in one of his most recent letters. He missed holding his son, brushing his wife's hair, going for long drives, waking up at 2am to comfort his son, early morning trips to the shops, cleaning up after dinner, helping with homework. Everything he listed seemed so trivial, so meaningless in the grand scheme of life and yet the memories meant so much to him.

You realised then you had never pitied him before. Not that he wasn't deserving of it, just that he didn't seem to need it. But overtime you realised that what Helmut had really needed wasn't revenge or to make a world free from superhumans, it was someone to talk to. Someone to trust. Someone who would understand his pain and not judge it. Perhaps, you thought to yourself, you could be that person.

Fuck.

You couldn't think of how to cope with this. No one you knew had ever mentioned falling in love with a criminal through letters. And as hard as you tried you hadn't been able to find a single romcom with this plot line. You couldn't tell him. You imagined with his seemingly fragile state of mind receiving from basically a stranger professing their love would at best cause him to ghost you. Especially after he confided in you, shared his thoughts and memories.

So instead you continued as normal. You sent him pressed flowers and pictures of your favourite places. Eventually, he asked what looked like, and you spent an hour trying to decide whether you should send a picture of yourself or to just vaguely describe your features. After deciding to send a picture of yourself on holiday a few months before the blip, you found yourself wondering what he'd do with it. Would he throw it away as soon as he got the letter or would he keep it, tuck it away in some book to look at whilst thinking of you?

You also found yourself wondering what he looked like in the real world. You had found pictures of him online, but they didn't feel real. He was never rarely happy. The pictures pre Ultron were clearly taken by paparazzi, so you weren't surprised he rarely looked anything other than annoyed. There were a few though, ones with his wife and son, where he clearly hadn't noticed, and some from when he was much younger and seemed to enjoy the attention. Then were those taken after his arrest.

And so you continued to wonder he looked like. How he looked in the morning, with flowers in his hair or in summer with the sun lighting his face. You wondered what his hair looked like wet, if he ever scrunched his nose in disgust. You wondered what his smile was like.

Over time, you told him more about yourself. The stress of returning home after the blip to no job, no house and your friends 5 years older. Your ex was married with kids and your sister had moved abroad. It was as if you blinked and your whole life had changed. You mentioned how it was your mum who had suggested getting a pen pal, so you could talk to someone new, who was living a different life to you, although she had meant someone in a different country not jail. Since coming back you'd been isolated and stressed with starting a new job, recovering lost information and personal belongings and moving house, so you had thought it might be good to speak to someone who didn't know you, who couldn't judge you. You told Helmut how it had been good, how writing to him had helped you, how he had helped you more than he could ever know.

No, that sounded creepy. How you appreciated his letters.

Too formal. How you hadn't expected to become his friend, but you were glad to be able to say you were.

Helmut was comforting. You knew in your head that your meeting on Friday was nothing to worry about but seeing him say it felt so reassuring. Each one of his letters made you feel relaxed, feel safe. You wanted to make him feel the same. So, as a way to repay his kindness you had told him that no matter what happened, he could always trust you. And it was true. You couldn't imagine a world where you wouldn't do anything for Helmut and although you knew he would never need it, you still wanted him to know you would always care about him, even if no one else did.

Writing to him had become as easy as talking to someone you'd known all your life. You had fallen into an easy routine, you knew when to expect his letters and you knew when you'd send a reply. The routine felt so natural that you even knew what the envelope would look like, always the same off-white with a square edged flap. The address was always the same too. Except on his last letter. Which was strange.

At first, you thought Helmut had been moved to a different prison but after frantically typing the address into Google Maps you realised it was not a prison. Fuck you had no idea what it was, but it wasn't a prison. It also wasn't in Germany.

You sat still, staring at the unopened letter for a few minutes.

You looked up at the door. You thought you heard someone knock. The post had already come and you weren't expecting people. Hell, there wasn't anyone other than your parents who would visit anyway and they would have called first. Now you were sat still, staring at the front door.

"I know you're in there, the lights are on."

It was as if you were a marionette, being moved by some strange force that was slowly pulling you out of your seat and towards the door. You didn't even register that you moved until you felt the door handle on your fingertips. The cold metal caused you to stop, as if broken out of a trance. There was a sudden realisation that if you opened the door your life would never be the same. It was sickening, a mixture of dread and excitement; it reminded you of the moment before a roller coaster drops. You repeated that thought in your head. "Your life would never be the same". Your life hadn't been the same in almost a year. What would be the harm in one more big change. So you did it. You opened the door.

His smile was beautiful.

[joeyglowy]

Bad Study Habits ft. Miya Twins

In which the Miya Twins learn not to waste your time when they are the ones that asked for help. That, and that their necks are surprisingly quite sensitive. 

(Call it a commemoration for Miya Osamu finally having his character designs introduced, even if it’s the fucking laziest but most beautiful thing I’ve seen all week)

Miya Atsumu x Reader, 1500+ words Miya Osamu x Reader, 1700+ words

(I promise, I love them, almost equally)

Miya Atsumu

“Why do I need ta know Avocado’s number? Unless he’s down to help a brother getting blue balled by his own girlfriend, tell him I’m not interested.”

“It’s Avogadro’s number and for once in your life can you not think with your dick? We’re not here to have sex; I’m here to make you pass your chemistry test so you don’t get another detention for slacking off in class!”

For the past eighteen minutes, you had been using your middle and index finger to rub circles into your temple, a vain attempt to soothe the hammering headache that jabbed your eyelids each time Atsumu opened his mouth.

When your boyfriend had come to your door, ‘begging’ you to help him with chemistry, you found it pleasantly endearing. For all the faults to which Miya Atsumu had—for which there were many—he had unfortunately perfected the art of looking just sheepish enough that it became adorable while still bristling his feathers like a proud peacock that just made you want to pull his chubby cheeks. He was the naughty puppy that still had his ravenous canines punctured in your favourite lita boots with his tail tucked between his legs. He was that one bad kid in every class who fooled around but all the female teachers doted on him anyways because he was charismatic in that childishly infuriating way that made them lower their standards when he finally put in the effort.

Miya Atsumu, put bluntly, is a godforsaken brat.

“[Name]-chan! My chem teacher’s threatenin’ me! He said if I fail one more quiz I’ll have to sit through at least three detentions just, doin’ I don’t know, symbiosis! You gotta help me; you’re my girlfriend, aren’tcha?”

Yet, you somehow fell for this idiot anyway.

Enamoured with his honey-lemon eyes, you decided not to tell him that what you were doing was in fact stoichiometry and symbiosis is actually a biology term. But with the way he had grabbed your shoulders, for an inexperienced lover like yourself, it was more than enough to trigger a visceral reaction that caused some internal organ to clog your throat. His subtle guilt-trip did not go unnoticed but with your brain short-circuiting, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Instead, you had dumbly nodded, cursing your inability to deal with intimacy and members of the opposite sex as you allowed him to barge into your home.

Since he was always practicing, you thought it would be a chance to do something that couples do. Using your infinite knowledge collated from various fanfictions and shoujo manga online, you had constructed a seemingly infallible plan to make the most of your time with Atsumu. It involved having every excuse to stare at him without being teased for it and if anything, you would be in the rare position of the teaser, playfully pointing out his mistakes to which he’d probably pout and whine about before undoubtedly, once you were done, he’d demand a reward. Enter obligatory make out sesh. Which of course, was more than welcome in your book. You were a simple girl and he had cultivated excellently curved muscles from his years of volleyball, sue your transparency.

There was just one chink in your perfectly polished armoured plan.

Atsumu was a brat above all else. A horny one.

Tutoring him was like trying to make caramel for the first time.

At first, you think it’s going well. You’re simmering the white sugar, careful and attentive, determined to make it a success. Yet, as the browning starts to come in from the edges, a funny aroma that was not the scent of sweetness but one of something being grossly burned beyond recovery did you realise just how taxing the job was. Before you knew it, it was like having your kitchen on fire, the ignition source being the abomination that is Miya Atsumu.

As Osamu would say, “His mental age regresses by five years when he’s playing. . . but it plummets by ten when he’s, god forbid it, studyin’.”

If he wasn’t whining, he was trying to stroke your legs with his spider fingers under the kotatsu, creeping up your thigh only to be smacked away by your own hand to which he’d just go back to loudly whining. He had the attention span of a five year old and the attitude of a twelvie that equalled a near migraine for you. Least to say, you were far too annoyed to be turned on now so you had abruptly gotten up in a fit of annoyance, told him you were going to drink some water and left him in the living room.

You sighed, the water only granted a moment’s worth of reprieve as you headed back to the living room to see his honey coloured mop of hair from behind. Your eye twitched when you looked from behind to see him doodling an avant-garde penis on the page. Lovely.

He still hadn’t noticed you peering over his shoulder so you took the chance to admire the back of his head, watching how his hairline faded out from beneath his undercut, the roots of his old hair still left their stain. You wondered if his neck down ever got cold, with the constant exposure and all. The longer you stared, the more you felt your stomach lurch, toying with a lingering thought that just might get you what you wanted after all.

In a swift movement, with your lips gently planted on the supple flesh, beneath his hairline, you caressed the skin tenderly. Your lips quirked upward to hear a squeak from your boyfriend who had shuddered violently, his shoulders shaking as his penis drawing gained an unexpected gradient slope, his pen streaking in a straight line across the page. You chuckled into his neck; nipping at it playfully as your hot breath caused the hairs on his neck to stand up. Pleased with the pinkish hue that spread across the skin like paint, you pulled away as Atsumu snapped his head towards you, moon eyed.

Although you may have burnt the caramel, it looks like you’ve found some hidden strawberries to snack on instead.

You watched the way his pretty blush flourished to his cheeks while he looked visibly affronted by your sneak attack. “Wh-what do ya think yer doin’!?” he spluttered on the spot, his hand flying to his neck as if you had just bitten into it. You wanted to lick your lips at the thought before you narrowed your eyes sternly, trying not to let a wolfish grin slip through the cracks.

“I don’t know about you but personally, I despise wasting time, don’t you ‘Tsumu?”

You drummed your fingers on the kotatsu’s surface, slow and pronounced. His golden eyes zeroed onto them in anticipation. You licked your lips. All these food metaphors made you realise just how starved you are. Atsumu being someone who had always been observant, seemed to pick up on your hunger as well, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, as he glanced up at you from under his lashes, anxious. You turned back to the paper, almost nonchalant, as if you weren’t aware of his clenched fists and tensed thighs.

“Yet, you seem to be taking advantage of my generosity, good boyfriends shouldn’t do that ‘Tsumu. You’re a good boyfriend, aren’tcha?” you drawled lowly, as you started glancing at your nails using your other hand, viciously using his guilt-tripping tactic from before.

Atsumu looked positively famished. His brows twisted up guiltily, that sheepish, puppy look on his face once more. Still, you could see his eyes shining too bright, still thinking that it’d go his way if he played nice. He was a mischievous imp that was a little too used to getting what he wants. You decided you weren’t going to fall for it this time.

“[Name], I didn’t--”

“Oh, but you did,” you sharply interrupted him and he winced. Your heart throbbed and as much as you loved teasing him, you did want this to end with him pinning you to the couch so you smiled softly. “Why don’t we finish studying, yeah? Then you can make it up to me.”

If Atsumu wasn’t getting blue balled before, then he certainly is now. He had no idea how the situation began to drip with sexual undertone but with the unbearable heat coursing through him, he could only nod helplessly, at your mercy. For the remainder of the studying session, while it had become increasingly harder for him to stay focused with his raging hormones going haywire, he clung onto every single word that fell from your mouth like it was a lifeline as the incomprehensible scribbles on the page finally morphed into numbers and words that he could understand.

You grinned victoriously to see the eager look Atsumu would get in his eyes, awaiting your praise and what he thinks is his reward once you had both finally gotten through the content. He really is just like an overzealous, whiny puppy that wants his treat. Well now, this will most certainly result into an exciting night for you, just as you had planned.

You smirked triumphantly.

‘All according to keikaku.’

Miya Osamu

“So, do you know how to use Avogadro’s number?”

“Mm? Avocado?”

You sighed. “No, can’t you stop thinking about food for a second, it’s Avo—Osamu!” you yelped, seeing your boyfriend barely stirring from the nest he’s made with his arms as he blinks blearily at you. The sleep in his eyes quite nearly breaks open every dam with the unparalleled force that is your love and affection and ability to just gush about how adorable this man is for hours and yet, you are forced to restrain yourself. As much as you adore Miya Osamu, he is unfortunately, just as much of an idiot as his brother—yet strangely manages to get within a range of 1 to 5 per cent higher than him on every test.

Osamu lets a little smile slip. “Avosamu? I thought it was Avogadro.”

You offered him a hard glare before deflating into the kotatsu, just like he did. He perked his head up to hear your muffled groans, his lips quirking up at how cute you sound. “Osamuuuu, you need to study for the test tomorrow! It’s worth a third of your grade!” you exclaimed, erupting from the cocoon of your arms to pout at him. Osamu grimaced just a little because every move he made was with restraint as he guiltily looked away.

“I know but m’tired,” he mumbled into his arms, burying his nose into them. “From practice,” he clarified with a grumble that faded out into something roughly incoherent. You had to stop yourself from smiling at his petulant tone of voice as you sighed, shaking your head. He was a kid, just like Atsumu too apparently.

“I know but . . .” you trailed off to see him in a sleeping position. You shook your head, unable to stop your smile this time as you gently raked your fingers through his hair. A sound rumbled from his chest and you snorted, of course only Osamu would be able to do the human equivalent of purring. His face resurfaced from the blanket of his arms as he leaned into your touch, sighing contently. You found your hand devoured by the dishevelled mess that was his hair as you fondly played with his matted grey tresses. Your love for this man warmed your heart beyond words as you could feel yourself relaxing—you blinked.

Wait a minute.

The way you ripped your hand out of his hair was like a splash of cold water to the face as he startled, bewildered by your forceful action as you glowered at him. “You fox!” you hissed. He blinked innocently in return as you shook your head adamantly. “I will not be an accomplice to your illicit sleeping endeavours! Nor the reason why you fail tomorrow’s test and have to stay back to do catch up work! Atsumu and the team would never let you live it down you know!”

You clutched your beating heart with a flush on your cheeks. ‘Ahh, that was close! He’s much more convincing than I thought but I won’t be fooled!’

You offered him another glare before sighing. You’d done that too many times this session you now realised. “Look, I’ll get you some tea, okay? But after that, you have to stay awake! You’ll be in big trouble if I come back and you’re asleep,” you softly reprimanded him although he looked completely unabashed as he nodded.

“Mm’kay.”

You were only gone for five minutes but when you had returned . . . he was definitely in trouble.

You gripped the steaming cup of hot tea by the handle; careful not to brush your knuckles on the actual cup so you don’t burn yourself and spill it like a waterfall. Carefully, you placed the cup of tea out of reach so he doesn’t knock it over before you plopped onto the cushion next to him, pouting. Really, coming over, begging you to help him study, only to fall asleep in front of you, what a tease. . .

“Jeez, I was hoping for some, fun times after we finished up too~” you whined to yourself, letting your chin fall to your fist before a movement other than your own caught you from the corner of your periphery.

You narrowed your eyes. His lashes flickered like a butterfly’s wings, elegant yet silent. Then nothing. You drummed your fingers slowly on the kotatsu’s surface before aptly concluding that your, apparently, asshole boyfriend, was faking his slumber. Your Sleeping Beauty was actually a Beast in disguise so it would appear. You pursed your lips, blowing air from your nose like a puffing, huffing steam train. He wants to play like that, does he?

You swiftly rose out of your seat before standing behind him, your shadow devouring him. You just might too if Osamu doesn’t tread carefully. You eyed his fraying hairline, beneath his undercut. You wondered how sensitive it would have now become, what, with it being constantly exposed to the frigid air all the time. A smile coyly played to your lips, as you hummed kittenishly before leaning down.

Tenderly, you placed your lips to the back of his neck, giving it a quick peck.

You looked up, gauging for a reaction but received none. You smiled daringly. Perhaps your dear boyfriend needs a bit more persuasion. You pressed another kiss into his neck. And another one. Accompanied by another. Before you began peppering his neck in searing kisses, from the roots of his hair to the brim of his collared uniform. You watched in delight as the skin gradually increased in heat while you continued to reap the benefits of your ravenous exploits.

You could feel the skin beneath your lips beginning to tremble but since he still wouldn’t reveal he was awake. . . it might be time to go exploring. You hovered over his ‘sleeping’ frame as both your hands slithered under the arms pillowing his face. They coiled around his waist and you found yourself licking your lips, suddenly feeling rather hungry. You could see him beginning to squirm yet he was adamant not to budge. A wolfish laugh escaped you as you plunged your fingers under his shirt to dance on his stomach before your teeth finally met his skin.

The last thing you heard was a sharp gasp that sounded like absolute heaven before your world turned on its axis. Your back met the ground with a thud and you suddenly realised you couldn’t move. Casually taking a quick glance, you craned your neck to see two calloused fists handcuffing your wrists and pinning them above your head. You looked up to finally see a panting Osamu, glaring at you.

“Oi.”

You blinked.

Osamu was every shade of grey. Every expression, every movement, although a little rough, it was done with minimal effort and restrained. He was always in control and always composed. He was a little slow and sluggish like that, but he could become a dynamic black, cool and confident whenever you pluck just the right strings.

Which is why it was all the more endearing to see a lovely peach pink speckling on his cheeks.

“What,” he breathed out, as if he had just sprinted in a marathon, you could see his torso trembling, “do ya think yer doin’?”

You watched him placidly and couldn’t stop admiring the pretty colour on his cheeks. You wanted to capture it, burn it in your memory until your final breath. You wanted to paint it, to smear the red all over his grey. You licked your lips.

“I told you, didn’t I? That you would be in trouble if I came back to find you sleeping. So pray tell, what were you doing, ‘Samu?” you purred beneath him, a playful smirk crawling to your lips as you felt a pooling sensation bubble in the pit of your stomach.

Osamu’s eyes widened and even though he had overcast a shadow on the both of you, you could tell that his cheeks had darkened. He suddenly looked like a deer caught in headlights and he could no longer meet your gaze. With an agonisingly slow movement, he tentatively released one of your wrists to feel the back of his neck.

“D-did you . . .?” he stammered, not able to bring himself to finish the question.

Picking on what he was insinuating, using your left hand, now free, you roughly grabbed him by the collar before pulling him down. He yelped like a puppy that had lost its footing, as he lurched forward like a tidal wave, almost tumbling over, quickly stamping his free hand to the ground, stopping him from knocking his head into your as you curled your finger under his chin.

“No, I didn’t. I warned you though, right? If you try to fall asleep again when I’m teaching you. . .” you slur, tracing your finger, teasingly let it tap on his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, his eyes now wide awake and focused only on you as you grinned hungrily.

“I’ll decorate your neck with hickies until you’ve got a goddamn necklace of bruises.”

Osamu shuddered as he fell to his elbows, barely holding himself up. Feeling his voice shake, he meekly nodded, trying to hide his arousal as he shakily—but briskly—flew back to the kotatsu, promptly hiding his face from you, just like a mouse.

You bit your lip, grinning wildly at the ceiling which although, was completely uninteresting, was the only excuse you had to not let him see your dorky smile.

‘HOLY SHIT THAT WORKED. Reading all those fanfics and manga finally paid off!’

You can’t let yourself come off as too desperate though. You realised that you had been waving the stick in front of him for too long now, it was time to finally bring out the carrot.

You propped yourself, being deliberately slow as to keep him waiting before you tenderly held onto his shoulder. You could feel him tense you brushed your nose against the lobe of his ear, your wispy breaths dyeing it pink as you whispered:

“When we’re done, I promise, you can eat whatever you want.”

While he didn’t fall asleep and actually got some proper studying in afterwards, perhaps it was him being petty or a vain attempt to gain back some control, he did not offer you his dick but went straight for the fridge to get some pudding. Still, it didn’t change the fact that you were hungry and Osamu found out that night that not only were you quite convincing yourself but you also really liked turning his neck red.

Hmm. And you called him a fox.

[swordmaid]

creator tag meme

tagged by the local angel @giuseppearcimboldo thank you so much lizzie!

rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

VERY happy i can fill this out because i’ve been so productive this year lol. also this is all gonna be jb bc ive been RELENTLESS and spamming and i would apologize but i wont lmao 

1. jb eros/psyche au.

i am talking about everything i have done for the au btw, because i’ve done quite a handful of things and honestly i really love all of them--even the doodle ones which rarely happens. anyway, i love this au in general. i think the tale is perfect for them, and i’m happy with the works that i managed to put out most esp this one that’s based on canova’s sculpture of eros and psyche. translating sculpture into digital art was interesting since it was all about converting the weight and structure of the sculpture into the screen and i think i managed to do it imo! i love how brienne looks heavy in his arms, i love how strong jaime looks holding her up and i especially love the way i shaded her dress to mimic the lines that the statue has. all in all, this au slapped and i actually want to do more of it but i have no inspiration right now. 

2. jb as classical art series. 

honestly i never thought that this was going to be a series lol i thought it was just a two time thing, but then i did another one, and then another one, and then another one and now here we are. i love all the pieces that i’ve done for it actually. my favourite thing is that they’re all not direct translations of the original art. there are some aspects that i’ve taken and adapted while also putting my own flair into it. i love the reverse colour scheme with klimt’s kiss and my own rendition of it. the gold being the accent highlight in a field of murky brown/black whereas klimt has the black squares present to emphasis the richness of the gold and yellows. i also like the little thing i did where i put the geometric shapes outside of the subject instead of inside (what he did). i put on the tags that i didnt like how it turned out but i actually like it lol i just didn’t like how long it took me i get too impatient with my art i think. anyway. i love this whole series sm i think all the pieces have their own character, and tbh i always get nervous adding another piece into this just because all the ones that i’ve done has been so well received i don’t want to be a disappointment lool. regardless, i love classical art and i love jb and i love being able to put the two together hehe we love to be self indulgent

3. la belle fleur sauvage commission. 

aka THIS commission that was based from SD’s fic, la belle fleur sauvage. some behind the scenes with that one--that one took me SO long to do, like it was taking longer than i had wanted and i felt very bad and i am forever thankful for sd’s patience 😭😭😭. i really can’t be too mad though since i was working on the third year of my degree, but i still would’ve wanted to finish it sooner than i did. but as for the art itself---i actually love it lol. i always say to zoom in on my stuff to see all the details but i WISH folks would zoom in on that because it’s so big and so intricate. i love how everything turned out; i love how rich the colours are, i love the composition for all three panels, i love how the SKY looked like actually that’s the first time i sat down and painted clouds with that technique and i am so happy and pleased with how it looked im using it for everything LOL, i love jaime’s outfit in the 2nd panel---i actually designed a whole outfit for that and he DOES have his pouches and daggers, etc. stuff that he would have with him if he was a mercenary, but because of the cropping, those details were taken out but it’s THERE. i love the colours and the shading on the 3rd panel. it looks so soft and romantic and it’s everything 😭😭. honestly i didnt know if i was able to finish whole three panels just because of how big the project seemed, but tbqh this piece really pushed me as an artist and im really happy that i had the chance to work on it (-’: 

4. early morning.

this one is a more recent piece and i was thinking post canon jaime/brienne married and either living in casterly rock or evenfall hall. originally the sheets were gonna be red with the gold brocade but i just made it green to make their location more ambiguous. they’re in a castle because of the finery, but which castle i have no idea. anyway i love their faces here in particular--jaime because it’s not often that i draw him old (this is the second time i drew old jaime i think?) and i love how he turned out here. i love how he looks like a silver fox and a dilf and we really do love that for brienne. full disclosure, i have no idea how to draw older folks since i don’t have a lot of practice in that area so im glad my lack of experience doesn’t show lmao. i also love how soft brienne looks here! the little smile on her lips is very sweet, her body language and how relax she seems is very telling abt her confidence in this scene also i think i drew her hands hella well haha. all in all i think it’s a really sweet art! and the full version is not so bad either jaime’s ass was referenced from marble sculptures so you know im aiming for Quality. but i love this headcanon of a younger brienne tiring jaime out, i’ve read a handful fics about it and im happy i can do my own version of it hehe 

5. unravel.

wow we love domesticity. someone said that if you compile all my ns*w art of them together it’s like they haven’t left their bed ever since they got together and you know what? love that for them it’s what they deserve. anyway i chose this one because of how sensual and simple it is. their body language really does all the talking ; jaime’s hand pulling on the ties on her shift, her hand on his hair, how soft and lazy their kiss looks--it’s enough to tell the story me thinks! i just love how simple this whole thing is but it’s very effective. there’s really not much to it besides what you see but that’s really enough.

i am actually very proud of myself with how productive i’ve been. it’s really not often that i get as much drive and energy to post so much art. iirc my art tag is nearly 200 content already (i think it’s 180 ish rn?) and honestly that’s a LOT if you told me ill be making more than 100+ content for jb i would’ve been like nah im too lazy for that lmao. but im really proud of myself this year! i think i pushed myself as an artist and i’ve familiarized myself more with my strengths as well as my weaknesses. i have a clear idea on the areas that i need to work on, and i’ve really gotten more comfortable with being happy with my own pieces and i’m trying not to put myself down more if something doesn’t go the way i want it to. also, i’ve had the opportunity to work with more people this year--so for the people who has commissioned me or IS commissioning me rn--- thank you so much for trusting me with your visions 😭😭 ive never expected to get this kind of reception with my art but i am very grateful for all of it. 

anyway as for the tagging i tag -- @na-bruma-leve / @dreadwulf / @dilfjaime / @fawnilu BUT i would highly recommend you to come along and snatch this tag meme up like a little raccoon because we all should start being proud of our own works imo !!

[minjoonie-song]

0:00 “Hello! Welcome to Minjoon’s Kitchen.” “Who’s fucking kitchen?” Brandon’s voice off camera startled a laugh out of Minjoon, loud and squeaky; and that was it for the theme of the live. “Welcome to uh... Welcome to Minjoon in a kitchen.” “Welcome to not Minjoon’s Kitchen.” Brandon added, finally coming into view. “Welcome not Minjoon to Minjoon’s Kitchen, not in Minjoon’s kitchen.” “Featuring Minjoon.” “Welcome to Brandon’s kitchen!” “Welcome to Brandon is trying to get his car home because she’s parked in fucking central LA after we went for brunch and had so many mimosas that I legally wasn’t allowed to drive us home.” “Hi MTV. Welcome to Brandon’s crib.” “Look mom! I‘m on MTV and I didn’t have to be 16 and pregnant to do it!” The pair started cackling again, uncontrollably hysterical in their inebriated states. 8:14

“You should make that a thing.” ”What?” ”Not Minjoon’s Kitchen. Once a month you just show up at a random fans house, streaming and giving them no time to prepare for you to cook whatever they have in their house.” ”Absolutely not. You know I like to be organised when cooking.” ”You’re literally squinting at lettuce in the fridge, I think you’re past that.” ”That’s lettuce?” “Oh my god, Minjoon. You can’t cook like this.” “I can’t see properly. I don’t know where my glasses are.” “This is going to be the most disappointing episode of your show ever and it’s live. We can’t cook, it’s gonna be dangerous and messy.” “In the words of the awesome Jake Peralta. Title of your sex tape.” “Oh my god. No, mine would be called uhh.. Put that thing back where it came from or so help me.” “Nope. I already claimed that for mine.” “Joonie! I hate the accuracy.” The laughing continued, even as the pair complained that they couldn’t breathe.

18:58

After they’d finally calmed down they took the camera with them to the couch, after the executive decision that the pair were definitely in no state to try to actually cook anything and a too large order of pizza. “We have like half an hour to kill. What are we going to do now?” “Remember when I asked for a Q&A way back in the past when I thought I’d be sober at four in the afternoon? We’ll do that and then I guess I’m writing a formal apology on my notes app to anyone who was hungry and eager to learn. Just like a real celebrity.” Minjoon fished around in his pockets for his phone, handing it to Brandon once it was unlocked so he could read it aloud. “I just figured out the greeting. Welcome to the last ever episode of Minjoon’s Kitchen.” “My biggest mistake this time was too much Minjoon and not enough kitchen. Some people come just to see my organised spice rack.” “You’ve both upgraded and downgraded to Brandon’s Couch.” “Love it. I’ve re-branded. Put it on a T-shirt. Every episode I’m just going to show you how to order different pizzas. We’re a podcast now.” “You’re a dumbass. Alright! Let’s see what we got. Minjoon.. What is your favorite thing to cook?”  “Everyone I see with how hot I am.” The laughter started up once more, even despite their previous attempts to calm down. “I fucking told you! I knew you’d get that one.” “You owe me $50 for saying it!” “I’ll buy all the pizza you just ordered, how about that?” “Catch me outside?” “Stop! How have you made it this far in life as a meme?” “I wasn’t always like this, it’s part of my rebrand. Brandon’s Couch: Meme edition.” “I can’t believe we failed cooking and now we’re already failing the Q&A.” “No! No, I got this. My favourite thing at the moment.. I love making risotto. Mostly because I get to eat it afterwards and I love eating risotto but yeah! That’s my favourite right now.” “I don’t think that’s really answering.” “It’s my answer. This is still not Minjoon’s Kitchen featuring Minjoon for this last episode. Shh. Next question!” “This one asks if there is anything in particular that gets me inspired for designs? Yes! I love art so as soon as my bank account hits below a mil, I’m like.. Shit! Gotta doodle. No, I find inspiration everywhere. Sometimes it’s just a particular mood I’m in, sometimes I’ll see a net curtain blowing a particular way in a breeze and design an entire dress from how it falls. Sometimes I’ll see a colour that I’ll want to make an entire wardrobe out of. I’ve been painting a lot recently, not designs just.. things I like and I’ve been able to work from those. Gross, I know but yeah. Inspiration is everywhere. Disgusting. Unacceptable. I refuse to be inspired again that was too mushy.”

23:37

The boys were a giggly mess. Almost everything bringing them to hysterics even if it was just something said with the smallest hint of sarcasm, they were grabbing onto the couch and each other’s arms for support as they hiccuped their way through another bout of laughter. “Anyway! Next question is top 5 celebrity chefs. Mine of course is Joonbug and that’s it. Wait, no that dude from that thing we saw in England. Gordon’s friend.” “Oh! With the road trip?” “Yeah, the really funny one.” “I loved that. Mine is obviously Chef Ramsay, Remy.. Gotta give my boy a shout out. Chef Baek Jong-won. Oh! The um.. I discovered that dude during fashion week in London that time. The sciencey one. Hus.. Hes..? I don’t remember his actual name but he made some amazing things. I was in awe. I’m also throwing in whoever invented bulgogi. That’s my top five. I actually met Chef Ramsay recently!” “You did! You called me after. How was it meeting your hero?” “Oh, I cried. Like a big baby. Ugly sobbing and lots of I love yous in the middle of a cupcake shop.” “Classic Minjoon behaviour.” “He signed my T-shirt and I cried some more. I would have proposed through my tears but I was crying too much. Like the shaky inhale, full on breakdown kind of crying? I can’t even be embarrassed because he still talked to me.” “You’re a baby!” “I am a baby! 달콤한 아기. That’s what my eomma and momma call me and then they pinch my cheekies.” “Cute! Ooh! How does it feel.. no, fuck. That’s not.. shut your face. I can read. How does performing feel on stage versus cooking on camera? How did it feel being on stage?” “I refuse to acknowledge what that means. Stage? What stage?” “They’re talking about your big, gay musical re-enactment of your love for me.” “I wish I could use memes like in real life? Just the I do not see meme but my face. Honestly though? It’s different because I can cook. This mess obviously doesn’t count but I can edit everything I post and I know what I’m doing? I’m confident when I’m cooking. I know what I can and can’t do. Being on stage was just.. I was terrified. It was terrifying. I had fun though and I did work hard. Like.. I decided last minute and I had to learn choreo and remember lyrics to things I wrote years ago. I was scared I’d trip up and face plant the whole time. Like the entire time. I wanted to be included though and I couldn’t go to the festival because it was terrifying being around so many people. I just kind of listened from the side lines but it sounded good and you said you had lots of fun being up there.” “I did. You know me though. I’m that one line from that Mike Posner song about needing everyone’s eyes just to feel seen.” “Woah. Hashtag deep.” “Oh my god. You’re ridiculous.” “I did need the entire weekend to recover though. It’s.. it’s a lot to open yourself up like that.” “You mean serenading the town with love songs about me?” “You suck so bad.” “Is that how you talk to the former love of your life?” Minjoon snorted, slapping at Brandon’s arm. “You were so in love with me. It’s my greatest achievement, you know? I put it on my resume under my skills. Has given Minjoon boners.” The reaction was instant, Brandon’s loud laugh failing to cover Joonie’s shriek that soon turned into a laugh but even his amusement couldn’t mask how red he’d gotten. “No! I hate it here! You suck so bad! So bad! I can never show my face in public or make eye contact with another human being ever again!” “It’s a good job I put the age restriction thingy on this stream. I knew I’d be a fucking menace after the second drink.” “You’re not a menace! You’re a gremlin! God, end the stream before you really do end my YouTube career. Goodbye everyone! I’m gonna go eat my body weight in pizza and become a cave hermit.” “Bye little Joonie fans! Sorry about the.. Fuck it, I’m not sorry about anything. Peace out, bitches!”

[surveys4ever]

25.

Section 1 – Who were you?

Think back as far as you can. What is the first memory you have? I think meeting my (now) dad for the first time when he and my mom were dating. I was very upset because he was short and that’s not what dads were supposed to look like in my 3 year old eyes since my bio dad was super tall.

What is something you remember enjoying very much as a small child? Playing Barbies, watching Barney, Happy Meals, being with my grandma.

How old were you, when you made your very first friend? Probably preschool.

Are you still friends with this person today? Facebook friends, yeah. Real friends, no.

Was there a story somebody read or told you that has stuck with you? No one ever read to me after I learned to read for myself so one day I was sick and I came home and curled up with my mom on the couch and asked her to read me a Little Mermaid book I had and she did, even though I had to get up to go shit myself halfway through and it meant a lot to me at the time.

What is something you get an immense feeling of nostalgia from? Hannah Montana for some reason. It was my favorite show and we didn’t get the Disney channel so whenever we went to a hotel, nobody could tell me fuckin NOTHING because we were watching Hannah Montana whether they liked it or not.

As a child, were you a sore loser or a sore winner? I was the only child for 8 years and then the oldest after that so I never lost at anything and now when I do, I feel like I'm the biggest piece of shit loser there’s ever been. So that’s fun.

Did you go through the "naked phase"? I learned that you didn’t have to sleep in pajamas and you could just sleep naked so I did it for a while but then realized that I much preferred pajamas.

Which television shows do you watch the most as a child? I loved TV so basically all of the 90′s/early 2000′s shows there were.

Did you play with siblings, neighbourhood kids or by yourself? Either with neighborhood/school kids or by myself. I didn’t ever really have siblings who weren’t my kids, if that makes sense.

Is there something you really miss from your childhood today? I miss back when everything was simple.

Section 2 – Likes and interests  

Would you ever like to try competitive pinball playing? Ummm, no.

Do you knit, crochet or cross stitch? I’m trying to teach myself to crochet.

Have you ever, or would you like to attend a gaming or comic convention? No thx.

What's your opinion on online multiplayer games? I really liked Among Us for a while there but I don’t really enjoy how rude everyone is on online games.

Do you like to go cycling? If so, where? Uh no.

Have you ever tried woodturning? If not, would you like to? Never tried it, don’t really have any desire to, but it can be relaxing to watch!

Do you enjoy drawing? If so, what do you usually draw? I do! I usually draw graphics for YouTube videos or doodle over Instagram photos, draw things to put on shirts with my Cricut, etc. I use my iPad for so many things.

Have you ever attended a painting class? If so, what did you create? I haven’t but I would like to!

How about a creative writing course? If so, did you get any feedback? I took Creative Writing literally every year it was offered in high school and I always got awards for having the top marks in the class.

What is your favourite form of exercise? No thank you.

Section 3 – People  

Who is the most important person in your life (besides yourself)? My husband.

Do people generally approach you easily? I think so!

Do you get along with people well? If not, what's the problem? Yeah! I’m pretty friendly and easy going.

Do you enjoy being in crowds or do you prefer your own company? I would much prefer my own company than crowds.

Which one of your friends have you known the longest? I still talk to the girl I was best friends with in the 6th grade on occasion so like 17-18 years?

Do you find it easy to make friends now? If not, what makes it difficult? As an adult who works from home, making friends is hard as fuck. 

What is something about people that annoys you? Something I've noticed in recent years is just how entitled and greedy everyone is. Everybody wants something from you or for your skills to benefit them without them putting in any work or paying you for your time. It’s just gross.

What is something about people that you really like? We have really, really harsh winters and if you ever find yourself in the ditch for whatever reason, there will be a lineup of cars stopped behind you to help you push it out or let you chill in their car while you wait for a tow truck. On the really bad blizzard days, there are groups of men in big trucks that literally L I V E to go around and help pull people’s cars out of the ditch. It’s the only time I feel like there’s actually a sense of community around here.

If you live alone, what would be your criteria for a roommate? I honestly would never have a roommate because they could either be your friend or a stranger and living with friends is a good way to ruin a friendship if your living styles aren’t similar and living with a stranger just sounds like a nightmare.

How about criteria for a spouse, if you're single? I am married but my criteria was honestly that I just wanted him to be kind and funny and I got that tenfold with my husband.

In general, what's your attitude towards people? I can’t stand to be around grumpy people. If all you do is gripe and complain about literally everything, I’m out. No thank you. Why is your hobby being angry? Take up knitting or something for christ’s sake.

Section 4 – Habits

What is something you do every day without fail? Baby talk the dog and snuggle with Beebs.

What is your typical breakfast? I’m a leftovers for breakfast kinda gal but lately I’ve been having a bagel and watermelon.

Which article of clothing do you like to wear the most? I loooove me a good baggy T-shirt and booty shorts.

Is there a TV show you watch habitually? We’re currently watching Unhhhh while we eat dinner every night, haha!

Where do you usually spend most of your day? I really only sit in 4 places--bed, the couch, my makeup/work desk, or my sewing desk. Depends on the day which one I’m at.

Is there a product that you do not want to run out of? Moisturizer. I’m a dry son of a bitch.

What is your preferred mode of transport? Car!

Do you usually have something playing in the background when you're home? Nah. I’m in silence a lot of the time.

Where do you usually get your groceries? Walmart for the bulk of it, a local grocery store for the specialty items, and Target if we ever run out of something midweek because I cannot handle Walmart more than once a week.

How often do you go to your local park? Like once or twice a month in the summer!

Which of your hobbies do you indulge in most often? Sewing and Sims currently!

Section 5 – Favourites and dislikes

What is your favourite fruit? Watermelon!

How about your favourite berry? Strawberries are the only berry I like.

Which food do you highly dislike? Fish. It’s all disgusting.

What is your favourite song, and why? I hate this question. Who can pick one definitive favorite song out of the bajillions of songs that have been written??

What is a movie you cannot stand? Anything with Seth Rogen in it, any movie that's got a 3+ after it (looking @ you, Fast & Furious), and all the fuckin’ superhero movies that have the same ‘ah yes, this undefeatable bad guy that we have absolutely no chance against and will undoubtedly kill us all--but we’re going to pull through at the last second with the power of friendship!’ plot line.

Which trait in a person do you find most appealing? I don’t know how to describe it--certain people just have that spark and you can always tell right away if they’ve got it or not and those are my favorite kind of people.

Which trait puts you instantly off? If they’re religious it’s an instant no from me, dog.

Who is an actor/actress who you dislike so much you can't watch them? I really, really dislike Tom Holland. I honestly think he’s a terrible actor.

What colour are your favourite shoes? White!

What is a smell that disgusts you to no end? B.O., on me or others. I just can’t deal with it.

Which door handle/door knob do you like the most in your home? They’re all the same.

Section 6 – Culture

What is something very typical to the culture of your home country? Apple pie and baseball are the only things coming to mind atm.

Do you enjoy art? If so, which form of art is the most enjoyable? I do! But I prefer art that you can look at and know the artist is incredibly gifted and/or has put in a ton of time and effort to master their skills. None of that million dollar paint smear on a canvas shit.

What is something about another country's culture you don't understand? I feel like other cultures take their family and their family’s approval way too seriously. That might be rich coming from someone who doesn’t have a very good relationship with their family but I just don’t understand what the point of making yourself miserable to make your family happy is.

Do you ever attend the theater? If so, which play did you see last? Last thing I saw in a theater was Shangela perform a drag show, haha!

How about the opera or the ballet? Nope.

Which dance troupe do you enjoy, if any? ...they still do that?

Do you attend concerts or gigs? If so, which band did you see last? Not as much as I’d like to as no one good really comes here very often. Last band we saw was X Ambassadors and Paramore!

Are you interested in foreign food? I’m not uninterested but I’m not super interested either.

If so, which country's cuisine do you enjoy the most? Chinese...albiet probably a very Americanized version of Chinese.

Do you enjoy stand-up comedy? If so, who is your favourite comic? I doooo! Bo Burnham and Drew Lynch are my favorites.

Do you contribute to culture in some way? If so, how? I try to? I’m an influencer so I definitely have a platform of a couple hundred thousand people. Not sure what exactly I contribute tho.

Section 7 – Charity

Do you volunteer your time to anything charitable? If so, what? Newp.

Do you donate money to any charities? If so, which ones? No. I don’t trust a lot of charities, to be quite honest. A lot of them are very shady and I’d rather donate money directly to someone who needed it rather than it getting tied up in a charity where it might never actually see the people they claim to be helping.

If you have pets, are any of them rescues from shelters? We adopted our dog from one of my husband’s coworkers but she probably would have gone to the shelter if we didn’t take her.

Do you donate your old clothes, linen etc. to charitable organizations? Yes! We almost always have a bag of donations in our trunk that we always forget to take to the thrift store when we go.

If someone you know is in need, is it in your nature to offer help? If I can, yes!

Have you ever donated Christmas presents to children of poor families? We used to do that when I was a kid.

Have you ever had to rely on other people's charity? One Christmas when I was really young I remember my parents signed up for a sponsorship through the Salvation Army where a family adopted us and bought us Christmas presents and Christmas dinner or whatever.

How do you feel about donating to charities endorsed by celebrities? I would never donate to a charity simply because it was sponsored by a celebrity but I guess its the easiest way for a charity to get the word out that they need donations.

Is there a charity you absolutely never ever will not trust? PETA, Salvation Army, Goodwill, and that breast cancer one with the horrible CEO.

Have you ever donated to a cause that had a person going door to door? No. I extra wouldn’t if someone came knocking on my door asking for money.

In general, what is your opinion on charity? I already did my rant about them, haha.

Section 8 – Entertainment

Which was the very first video game you remember playing? Ocarina of Time I believe!

Which was the very first film you remember watching? That I don’t remember. Maybe that Barney movie with the magic egg?

What is your go-to form of entertainment? TikTok usually.

Do you have a large collection of DVDs/Blu-Rays? Nah. We have a drawer but we usually stream everything.

How about music albums? Beebs collects vinyls!

Do you prefer to have your music on vinyls, tapes, CDs or digital? I prefer digital and Beebs likes vinyl.

When and where do you like to entertain yourself usually? Either the bed or the couch.

Do you ever binge watch shows? If so, what are you binging now? Usually! I’m sadly in between shows rn.

What kinds of books do you like to read, if any? I honestly don’t read anymore.

Is there a book series you're currently collecting? ..

Is entertainment something you prefer to enjoy alone or with someone else? I have my shows and then we have shows we watch together. So there’s a time and place for both!

Section 9 – Internet 

Do you always have access to the Internet, wherever you go? If not, why? Yup!

Which website do you frequent the most? Website website? Google. App website? Instagram or TikTok.

Which search engine do you prefer and trust the most? Googs.

What do you use the Internet the most for? Social media or entertainment.

Do you judge people who have their phones out all the time? If so, why? Random people? None of my business. But if we’re spending time together and I’m trying to have a conversation with you and you're not paying attention to me because your nose is glued to your phone, I’m gonna be pissed.

If your connection goes down, what do you do? Go do something that’s not on the internet?

Is there something you wish you could do online that isn't possible yet? I still wish you could smell things through the internet.

Do you remember the first time you used the Internet? When was it? Yes! I believe the 2nd/3rd grade?

What was a website you used to frequent that doesn't exist anymore? I loved the Disney website with all the games.

Do/Did you ever have your own website? That was the thiiiing back in the day.

Isn't it great how much knowledge and info we have at our fingertips? It’s great but also overwhelming.

Section 10 – And finally...

What is something you consider to be highly controversial? Politics, apparently.

What kinds of jokes do you like the best? I love a good pun.

Is there a person who makes you laugh effortlessly? Oh definitely.

Which part of your body do you like the least? My eyes.

What's something random, out of context you remember from your past? I don’t do well with really vague questions.

Do you wear shoes indoors? No, I’m not a heathen.

What's the silliest thing you've worn on your body in public? I don’t think I usually wear silly things.

What's the most important thing in your life right now? Just spending time with my fam. Trying to get over this anxiety.

What is the most distant point on the planet that you've been from home? Florida.

Do you enjoy trivia games? If so, which one's your favourite? We love some Trivial Pursuit in this house!

Are you more logical or emotional? My emotions take over and then my logic brings it back in. Equal parts, baby.

[queerchoicesblog]

A  Life So Changed (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series, Ch. 15)

So, folks, here’s the new chapter of the series. Thank you so much for your support, hope you enjoy it!

Little disclaimer-favor: especially since the tags don’t seem to be working anymore, if you do enjoy it, please consider supporting the author & sharing this. A little gesture that means a lot!

Also, this chapter contains reference to THIS FIC I wrote about James and Zetta inevitable confrontation not showed in the original book.

Word Count: 2000+

Zetta x Adele Tag: @storyscaped​ ​ @storyscapefanficarchive​ @marmolady​ @animus-and-anima​ @hayley-carter19 @escako​  @everlastingchoices​ @indescribablechoices​ @ahrielstuff​ @bornonawdnsday​ @nazario-sayeed​  @h-doodles​ @adele-serda​ @marlcasters​ @brightpinkpeppercorn​  @michelleconnoly​ @charliejane-blog​ @ghost-of-yuri​  @choicesgremlin​  @lanzhansguqin​ @orange-elephants​ @wonder-falcon​

Zetta x Adele Series Tag: @eternal-langdon​ @nydeiri​

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14

____________________________________

What follows that night is a feverish dream. The following months flow in a haze as days blend into each other. New York, my apartment...all is familiar yet ever distant. As if I'm back home and somewhere far away simultaneously. I'm here and I'm not here.

Moving on is tougher than I could have possibly imagined. Sabine and Richard take care of me with tender compassion, doubling their usual efforts: it's heartwarming, truly. It leaves me wondering what I have ever done right in my life to deserve such adoration and, most importantly, affection because it's genuine concerned affection what I see in their eyes when our eyes meet. Sabine immediately added a newfound touch of sweetness to her proverbial efficiency and joins me at the breakfast table more often these days: sometimes it happens that I am not in the mood for talking and we sit together in complete silence. At first it made me nervous but my little Napoleon doesn't seem to mind: she would offer me a smile and gesture to the coffee pot or the plate filled with slices of my favourite bread and my nervousness melts away replaced by a sense of comfort. Richard visits me more than usual and invites me to join him for a walk at Central Park: "you always say how much you love that place, let's go together...it will do you good" he suggests, smiling sheepishly and offering me his arm. Just like Sabine, he doesn't mind that at times I fall quiet and melancholy takes over me. He would gently stroke my hand resting on his arm and keep walking at my side. One day, as I took a seat on a bench, he picked a flower, a gorgeous little daisy, and pinned it to my hat. He smiled at me and gave my hand an encouraging squeeze before taking a seat beside me. He's surprisingly sweet, sweeter than I deserve, and more mature than I thought when we first met. Richard never once mentioned nor complained about James. He would have every reason and right to question me about him after the secret letters my nephew sent him, asking for money. He never did: the day after our arrival, he even asked his friend John to make sure Mr. Eisler and his valet were safe in their New York apartment. Richard is probably waiting for the moment I'm ready to have that conversation. How could I never be ready for it? Yet, I must, I must confront my nephew: what he did is too hurtful and serious not to come with harsh consequences. Before I send a note to James, I share with Richard my decision: as much as I have little desire to see him now, he's still family and I have at least a moral obligation to him, the old oath I made to Theresa, so I will grant him a generous monthly income. I will set a few conditions, which include no more letters or inappropriate requested to Richard and no more interferences with the marriage under the treat of a legal action from my lawyers. I explain my fiancée the hideous scheme my nephew planned, omitting some details, and I assure him that I was in the dark about the letters: I knew nothing about them and I'm deeply ashamed and sorry he went this far. Richard listens to me carefully and gives me a painful smile as he take my hand into his. "I knew, Zetta. I always knew and I didn't suspect you when I received them, not even for a split second" he sighs. "I trust you, my darling". He just worried about me and he is still concerned because as much as it pains him to say that, my nephew seems dangerous and he has no sympathy for him. I assure him we won't see him anytime soon: after what he did, the things between James and I will never be the same. I don't even know if I will ever be able to forgive him. I repeat the same words to Jaime a few days later and having such a conversation with him is one of the toughest thing in my whole life. I'm angry and disappointed as I speak, wounded in the deep yet tortured by the familiar affection refusing to die inside me. When he close the door behind him, full knowing I don't know when we will see each other again, my heart breaks and I fall sobbing on my knees. My little prince is gone. There is a big fuss in town about the Titanic hearings: American and British authorities are investigating the disaster and the White Star Line company is covered with shame. The hearings are held in New York at Waldorf-Astoria Hotel so I try to keep updated. I spoke to a committing magistrate too: he asked questions about that night to see if I could provide valuable information for the official investigation. It turned out I had none or at least very little to offer him, aside from reporting the questionable decision of lowering half-empty lifeboats and the stubborn refusal to go against it of many officers, like the one I yelled at on the deck. I sign my deposition, which adds up to many others he gathered since the inquiry started. I don't need to testimony at court, he said, he has tons of other witnesses reporting the same issue and he will just add my deposition to the documents to be sent to the judge. "You can go, thank you for your time, Miss Serda" he smiles, vigorously shaking my hand. He praises my heroism but I don't know what he's talking about. Apparently, other witnesses claimed that they owe me their life or saw me protesting on the deck. I'm no hero, I think as my mind runs to the young steward who stayed behind, down in the belly of the sinking ship to keep the light on and give us all a chance to survive. I think his name was Charlie. A few weeks after the beginning of the hearings, about the end of May, I receive a letter from Lucille. She hadn't hear from me since our arrival and she's worried about me, she writes. She had sent me letters but I answered none. She profusely apologises for not waiting for me as she promised but "they had no choice, the chaos was mounting": she hopes this won't be the end of our friendship. Hoping so, she renews her invitation: Richard and I will be her most welcome guests if we fancy joining her and Cosmo for dinner at their apartment whenever it suits us. I don't know how to feel about this. Under different circumstances, it would have filled with joy, maybe relief after all we've been through, now...now things are more complicated than that. Unlike me, Lucille and Cosmo were asked to appear at court during the hearings to verify certain details. They had been all over the press ever since the news spread and I wonder if I'm being a bad friend "abandoning" her in a time like this. The press predictably feasted and is still feasting over the disaster: tragic stories, eye catching headlines, shocking revelations, heartwarming and heartbreaking pictures from the pier: ça vien sans dire, the touching embrace between me and Richard - "reunited lovers" as the caption said - made it to the front page. As weeks went by, my brief appearance was replaced by the new scandal involving nothing less than the Duff-Gordons, not only my personal friends but also a couple of incredibly famous socialites. When I first read it, my heart sank while Richard declared himself disgusted by what journalists write these days. Rumor has it that Lucille, sitting with her husband and secretary on Lifeboat No. 1, commented to her Laura something like, "There is your beautiful nightdress gone" in the aftermath of the sinking. When the Titanic disappeared to the bottom of the sea and poor souls were freezing to death in the ocean, begging us on the lifeboats to come back and save them. I still hear their screams in my nightmares. There's more though: reportedly Cosmo had bribed the lifeboat's crew not to return to save swimmers out of fear the vessel would capsize; he handed checks to them on board of the Carpathia. But Lifeboat No. 1 was designed to carry 40 passengers. Only 12 people were on board when it was lowered unlike the one I was on, filled beyond its capacity. How could an half-empty boat capsize? They could have saved so many lives that night! The thought made my stomach turn to the point that I feel almost nothing when I see the pictures of them during the inquiry: Cosmo looking grim and tensed in his seat and Lucile dressed in black, a mourning dress with a veiled hats, entering the court. I know better than to trust rumours blindly...but I know them. I've known her for ages and, as much as it hurts to say, I can't completely rule out the possibility that for once the press was right. Maybe I'm wrong but I can't vouch for them this time. And doubt is an uncomfortable thing... The final report by the inquiry is more generous than me and clear their names, even if - I'm sure - the general public will be less forgiving. Anyway, Richard is quite fond of the couple, we will surely go visit them... I do not pretend to be fine after what happened on my birthday's night -the sinking, James' betrayal, but I can conceal. I know how to conceal, if need be, in public, in front of people who cannot understand. I'm an actress, a great actress after all. But I feel numb, a ghost of my usual self. During the day I try to keep myself busy. My renaissance requires hard work and commitment as well as a good plan. Sabine and Richard are excellent helpers: I need new projects to work on to make my comeback and an efficient daily schedule to prevent me from drowning in my sorrow. I may conceal it but I dread the time when I have nowhere to run and my mind races back to that memory that fills me with excruciating sadness and guilt. My sweet revolutionary. At night I drink sherry and write letters to Adele. They're passionate, melancholic, tearful. I throw them away in the morning: my words flow on the paper but they ring hollow in the daylight. I don't know what I am supposed to write her. What should I tell her? What could possibly excuse my silence as times go by? I wish I could speak freely what's inside my mind but it's unbelievably difficult. More than she deserves, probably. For some time I tried to convince myself that our little romance on the Titanic was mere attraction, a secret affair favoured by the circumstances: two women growing close, Adele's protectiveness, my heart susceptible to women's beauty and charm just like hers. We found each other and it happened. That's all. But her memory lingers, it never fades away. Never. She always finds a way back to me. At night or during the day, by accident. She's everywhere even if this isn't a place she belongs to. She's in the announcement of a referendum for women's suffrage in Michigan: I read the news and think how excited she must be about it. Maybe she knows it already but I feel a silly urgency to send her the page of the newspaper: your dream may come true after all, see, my love? She's in a gorgeous dress I see hanging on a mannequin in a boutique and I know would fit her perfectly. I have to refrain myself not to buy it and send it to her with a sweet note because I don't care if she needs it, I just want her to have it. She needs beautiful things in her life too. She's in a witty joke I hear in a fancy cafe: I laugh and turn towards Sabine to say "Oh Adele would love this humour" but words die in my throat. When I turn, my cheer has turned into a grimace. Adele isn't here. I don't even know her address here. The thought pains me. I could ask Sabine to find it, I could visit her...but I find myself wondering if it would be the better judgement. I'd give up half my fortune or even more to know about her, even just a quick update. Is she fine? Is she still hurting? Did she and her sister settle down safely? Does she have nightmares at night? She looked so defeated and forlorn on the Carpathia, it pains me to remember seeing the light in her eyes flicker. But maybe this way it will be easier for her to move on. To forget me, if that's what we must get to, no matter how much it hurts. Sometimes I drink myself to a stupor to break the spiral of such thoughts and I'm quite ashamed of myself when Sabine finds me like that in the morning. I mutter nonsense excuses I don't owe her - but I feel like do, she's not a maid, she's my friend - as I hold onto her since I can barely stand on my feet at times and I burst into tears whenever she says: "You have nothing to apologise for, Madam" I do, though. I should - no I must apologise to Adele and Hileni too for disappearing and abandoning them on that pier. I must tell Adele how things really are, how I miss her, it's unbearable... So it's no surprise then that when Richard announces me his idea to postpone the grifter story project I've been working on in favour of a new one, "an homage to the Titanic tragedy", my mind comes find her once again. The project is a wise mix of ambitious opportunism - the sinking is still the talk of the town and people will love it - and genuine concerns. He says I'll not only play the main heroine but also pick the subject, he will just help assessing the script but he wants me to be the one calling the shots on the story to tell. I believe he feels it might be somehow therapeutic for me, aside from the alluring detail of having the star Zetta Serda co-writing an announced success. I consider it for a while, but in the end I write down the Carrem sisters story. I'm fully aware that the picture will hardly be able to bring back to life what it truly happened, the grandeur and the terror. I'm experienced enough to know that the audience can take only that much of the tragedy: they wanna cry and say that they felt as if they were there but they would scream and leave the room if I showed them the truth. A giant ship collapsing in front of you, officers shooting to maintain orders, stewards stubbornly denying desperate passengers their only chance to jump on a lifeboat and to survive, the screams of those who floated in the chilly waters and the dreading silence that followed their unmerciful death. They will never take that much. On the contrary, they will likely enjoy the story of two sisters separated and reunited, prevailing over the impending tragedy threatening to kill them both. It's an heartwarming story with an happy ending and the right amount of pathos and hope. It's also the story of my love that I'm writing down on paper and hand to the posterity. When I present it to Richard, he loves it. He himself couldn't have found a better story, he says, barely containing his excitement. I explain quietly that it's a true story, I just changed the names in respect of the real protagonists of this story. I can only hope Adele won't hate me for this when she sees it. Hate me even more than she's probably doing right now, I frown. I can only hope she will understand.

[fuckedurbias]

better better - park jaehyung

DAY6 AS DAY6 SONGS PART 1 - part 2

genre: fluffy as heck, highschool!au

requested? nope

word count: 1.7k

warnings: implied?? mental struggles ig

A/N; italicised words are lyrics to the song better better by day6! listen to it here while you read

Every day, I lived like I was dead

It was another bland, boring day. As usual, Jae was keeping to himself. He didn’t like to stand out, yet somehow he always did. He always had his earphones in and sat in the middle of the class, because if he sat at the front he’d stand out and look like a teacher’s pet and if he sat at the back he’d be near all the loud class clowns. He also hoped sitting in the middle of class would help hide the fact that he wasn’t paying attention and instead was writing songs in his book and drawing little doodles. Every lunch and recess he would either go to one of the study rooms to have some peace and quiet to work on his music, or all the way to the back of the library to make some more sample beats. Jae was so so tired of the same routine every day and hating school, hating his boring life. He couldn’t wait to graduate and just leave and never come back, never have to see any of these people again and never do this routine ever again. He wasn’t happy, only when he was in his bedroom singing, playing guitar and making his own songs, but even that wasn’t cutting it for him lately. He longed to feel some form of content, to feel like he had something to live for. To feel free.

But you became the reason for me to wake up

What Jae never would have expected was that today, would not be just another bland & boring day, because you were about to come tumbling into his life at full speed out of the blue. Quite literally. Jae was walking down the hallway to go to the study room during his free period and you, being late to your class were running down the hallway from the other direction. Just as Jae was about to turn the corner you also turned the corner and ran smack bang into him, hard. You rebounded off his chest and as you fell back, your arms instinctively tried to grab onto him to stop yourself from falling but instead you just ripped his headphones out and yanked them down with you. As you fell on your ass your books and laptop all fell on the ground along with his. You had never been so embarrassed in your life. You were apologising so profusely as you scrambled around trying to pick everything out and separate both his and yours stuff.

“I’m so so sorry, I’m the biggest dumbass in the world! I should know better than to run in the hallways when anyone could turn the corner at any moment-” You rambled on, more to yourself than to Jae.

“I promise you I’m fine, you just winded me a little but I’m fine, don’t stress” He said, rather monotone. He bent down next to you to help you pick everything up. He picked up both your laptops, scanning them to see if there were any marks or scratches and opening them up to check the screens. As he handed you back your laptop with an awkward smile, you gently took it from him as you looked up at him with your puppy dog eyes. You tried to gather your things together under your arm and get up at the same time, clearly struggling. Once Jae processed what was happening he awkwardly cleared his throat and reluctantly held out his hand, and you looked up at him once again and grabbed his hand. He almost jumped at the feeling of your soft hand against his, especially when you smiled at him and looked at him with your big, sparkly eyes.

“Thank you” you almost mumbled as you shyly looked away, realising how cute he actually is and wondering how you’ve never really noticed this boy before. Jae only responds with a nod and a tiny, almost not noticeable smile.

“Also, I love the 1975 too” You smiled brightly.

“W-what?” Jae stuttered, realising how nervous he actually is right now.

“Your earphones, that’s the 1975, right?” You pointed to the earphones dangling out of his hoodie.

“Oh! Right. Yeah, they’re pretty sick” He realised the song playing can be heard from outside his earphones. He already hates himself, “pretty sick?”, who the hell says that when trying to socialise with a cute person?

But you thought it was adorable.

You made me want to open my eyes

From that moment on, he was noticed and did stand out. But he didn’t mind, because it was you. Every time you saw Jae in the hallways or in the library, you gave him that bright eye smile of yours and a big, excited wave. Even if you saw him more than once in a day, it was always just as bright of a smile and as excited a wave as the first time you saw him that day. And every time, Jae’s heart did a little jump, and tiny little butterflies erupted in his stomach. He would actually smile back and give you a little wave. You also realised you had one class with him, it was biology, you only had it about 3 times a week but it didn’t matter. When you were waiting outside that classroom the day after meeting Jae and saw him waiting on the other side of the hall from the room, you felt that pang in your heart. You swallowed your nervousness and went over and spoke to him. You started doing this before every biology class, as your friends always showed up late. You spoke to him about your favourite bands and music and realised you had a lot of other things in common. You both actually really loved science and Marvel movies amongst other things. Jae would’ve never expected you to be into the same music he is, but he loved it, especially when you recommended new bands for him to listen to. Once your friends showed up and class actually started though, you sat with them instead. Not because you didn’t want to sit next to Jae, you did, you really did. Just because you still got really low key nervous around Jae, and you liked to get work done in class and worked better with your close friends. You still snuck glances at Jae in class though, so that argument that you told yourself wasn’t really valid. Look at you getting so distracted because of a boy. You were quite popular, in the sense that everyone knew you and you knew everyone and would consider yourself ‘friends’ with most people in your year, but you really only actively hung out with and spent your time at school with your three close friends. In comparison to Jae though, you were very popular, he saw you as one of the most popular people in the school. Way out of his league in his eyes. He expected you to stop caring about him or noticing him in a couple of weeks at most.

I used to never wait for tomorrow

But you didn’t. You kept waving and smiling at him in the hallways and listening to his song recommendations and updating him about your thoughts outside the biology classroom. Jae actually found himself being excited to go to school and see you, even for just a short few seconds. He couldn’t get you out of his head. He hated feeling like this when he didn’t even know you that much, but at the same time he felt like he really did. He wished so badly that he wasn’t so awkward and closed off so that he could get the courage to properly ask you out or even just for your number or just any social media contact. However, he also still thought you were way of his league and it broke his heart because he knew a socially awkward loner like him could never be with a naturally bright, loveable, perfect, friendly person like you. He accepted that he’d forever be stuck having short 5 minute conversations before class and stealing glances at you during biology. But even those short encounters were enough to keep him going and being excited for tomorrow. Weekends were low key hell and he just let out his thoughts and daydreams through his music, and by regretting not asking for your number and telling himself he’ll ask you for it for sure on Monday. He never does but, hey he’s working on it. Little did he know, that you were also doing the same; practicing what you were going to say and do in the mirror and how you were going to confidently approach him. You couldn’t wait any longer, you had to do it before you went crazy with thoughts and memories of him in your head as you waited for the weekend to be over. Properly conversing with him only 3 times a week wasn’t enough for you.

But you became the reason for me to take one more step

That following Monday, you didn’t have biology but you passed by his locker in the morning before homeroom like you always do, but today you weren’t just going to give a wave and a bright, happy ‘good morning’, you were going to put your practice over the weekend to good use. You snuck up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped a little before turning around, confused expression quickly turning into a soft smile.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” He asked, clearing his throat.

“Well, we don’t have bio today so I probably won’t get a chance to talk to you other than now” You said softly, linking your hands behind your back shyly.

“Oh… I see” He looked down at his feet, screaming at himself in his head to say something, anything.

“Yeah…” You follow his gaze down to your feet, too. Your cheeks were going red as you tried to get what you wanted to say out of your throat.

“Anyways, what I wanted to ask you about was,” You were twiddling your thumbs behind your back as you looked up at him, his gaze shot back up at you “The 1975 concert next week. I bought tickets for me and my friend back when they first announced the dates, but she can’t go anymore so… Would you… Want to go with me?”. You quietly said, but Jae still heard you. His head shot up and he gazed down at you with his head tilted and eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You… want to go, with me?” He questioned.

“Well, I did just ask you, didn’t I? ” You slapped his arm playfully. “No, I know you did I just… can’t believe it if I’m being honest” Jae pushed his glasses up his nose bridge with his finger as he blinks at you in disbelief.

“What? Why?” You giggled, scrunching your face up at him.

“Because, you have a lot of other friends you could go with. Why on earth would you pick me?” He mumbles.

“Maybe because I don’t want to go with them, I want to go with you. Besides, nobody else really likes their music as much me, other than you. Now stop being a dummy, okay? Please come, you don’t have to pay me back!” You dragged out that last part, as if trying to convince him.

“Oh, really? I’m definitely coming then, only because it’s for free and nothing else” He smiles mischeviously. You slapped his arm again but even harder, to which he grabbed it with an ‘ow’ as he pouted, pretending to be hurt. You just rolled your eyes.

“Anyways, I’m gonna need your number or something so I can send you all the deets and stuff! Since I won’t have class with you until Wednesday” You handed him your phone as you rambled on, trying to hide the fact that your heart was about to beat out of your chest with nerves. As soon as you said that, Jae’s heart skipped about 10 beats and he felt that intense pang in his stomach. He grabbed your phone with a nervous smile as he entered his number, secretly hating that you beat him to asking for your number. He wasn’t surprised though, you were super confident and fearless in his eyes. However, he decided he could still make a bold move, for his contact name he put himself as ‘the funniest, most handsome boy in the entire school’ with the heart-eyed emoji and all the different coloured hearts. He smiled to himself as he handed it back to you. Once you read the name you just looked up at him with a look of disappointment.

“Really? You’re so cringey” You scrunched up your nose. He gasped and crossed his arms.

“I’m just joking you dummy” You poked his chest. He laughed and patted your head. Your heart tingled with happiness. He was finally opening up to you.

“You should get going, you have to be at homeroom in 5 minutes” He said as he checked his watch, even though he didn’t want you to go at all.

“You’re right, well see you soon!” You said excitedly, your arms instinctively holding themselves out for a hug, forgetting that you weren’t with one of your close friends. You felt a huge rush of embarrassment rushing through your stomach to your cheeks, Jae didn’t seem like the affectionate type at all, especially as he was only now really opening up to you. However, as you you were putting your arms down and stepping away, Jae slid one arm around your shoulder and patted your back gently. The rush of embarrassment suddenly turned into that feeling Jae always gave you that you couldn’t quite explain, a mixture of excitement, nervousness and… like? You know, the feeling when you like someone. You could only describe it as ‘like’. Jae only hugged you for a couple of seconds but to you, it felt like so much longer. After he pulled away he smiled nervously, a blush very visibly on his face. You nodded at him as you started to walk backwards down the hall to your classroom.

“I’ll text you!” You yelled and waved excitedly with that bright smile. As soon as Jae turned back to his locker, he let out the biggest sigh he’s ever sighed and banged his head against the shelf. A lot just happened in the span of 3 minutes.

You held out your hand to me

It was the night of the concert and it was amazing. You and Jae had dinner before going to the venue and during the concert, you ended up crying when they sang your favourite songs and you just got so overwhelmed and Jae’s heart was bouncing around in his chest. He put his arm around you and started swaying with you as you cried into his shoulder. You smacked him a few times because he was laughing, but he wasn’t laughing at you or at the fact you were crying, he just felt so happy and thought it was so cute as to why you were crying. Once the concert was done you walked out into the cold night air, shivering as you slid your jacket back on. You closed your eyes took a deep breathe, loving the smell of the fresh, cold air. When you opened your eyes and saw how beautiful the sky looked, you felt your heart do that happy tingle again; the sky was so clear and full of stars and the moon visible and bright. That sight together with the city lights around you gave you such comfort and happiness, especially when you looked over next to you to see Jae looking up the stars too, the moon casting such a beautiful glow on his face. Jae glanced over at you and you quickly looked away, looking out to the road in front of you.

“Thanks for inviting me, the show was so amazing and I had a lot of fun” Jae said, walking over closer to you.

“You’re welcome. They mean a lot to me and I know you like them a lot too so of course I wanted to experience seeing my favourite band ever with someone who also means a lot to m-, someone who loves them a lot too!” You caught yourself, hoping he didn’t understand what you almost blurted out.

“It was especially fun seeing you cry” Jae smiled mischeviously. You ran up to him with your arms in fists ready to fight him. He laughed and just held out his hand, holding your head in place as he kept you at arms length from him, your punches unable to reach him.

“Let me go!! Let me fight you!!” You screamed, trying your best to push forward against his arm, but to no use. Once you gave up and were panting for breath, he let his arm go.

“Seriously, though. I wasn’t making fun of you for crying, it was really precious to see how much they mean to you and how much that song means to you. I’m honestly honoured that you’d let little old me experience something so special to you, with you” Jae smiled softly, the most genuine smile you’d seen from him yet. You didn’t know how to respond, just smiled back at him. It wasn’t even that big of a smile, but it was still so bright. Jae could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating in this moment, looking down into your eyes as you looked up into his, the stars reflecting in them. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, you were already so stunning to him but in this moment you looked ethereal. It felt like it was just you two in that moment, and if he wasn’t such a coward he would’ve kissed you.

“So, how are you getting home?” Jae cleared his throat, knowing that was a stupid question to ask since you both got the train here and would be taking it home together.

“If I’m being honest, I don’t want to go home just yet”, You emphasised “and it is a Friday”. Jae looked at you, confused. You held out your hand to him. “Let’s go on an adventure!” You exclaimed. Pulling him with you as you ran across the street.

Just your smile alone, makes me breathe

After that night, you two stayed up into the AM every night messaging each other, talking about anything and everything. You hung out on weekends and even after school sometimes; so much so,  you two became the talk of the school. Jae was standing out, but he didn’t hate it as much as he thought he did, or would. Everyone was confused as to how and why you became friends with somebody they never knew about before, but you didn’t care. You introduced him to your close friends, and even encouraged him to hang out with you all during recess and lunch. You didn’t force him too, but eventually he decided it wouldn’t be so bad. He actually had fun, mainly because he was around you but he realised that not everyone was as bad as he thought they were, but of course your friends are going to be good people, as if someone as bright and good as you would hang around bad people. He still struggled to open up to them and feel confident socialising, but you helped him and they found him funny and nice to be around even with him not trying or just rambling on to cover up his nervousness. He liked it the most when it was just you two on weekends though, as expected. Even when it was something as boring as sitting in the park by the pond and watching the fish or going grocery shopping, as long as he was with you he was having the time of his life. He’d never felt this way before or experienced feeling this way about someone and it felt so scary, exciting and fun all at once. He’d just have to look at you smiling as you told a story that made you happy, a stupid joke that made you laugh or even as you ate your favourite ice cream, and he could feel his heart soar.

Only your love makes the frozen me jump up again

A month later and you finally became official, Jae finally worked up the courage to properly ask you out. He was a rambling, nervous mess as you sat next to each other on the hill overlooking the city; your favourite spot. You rolled your eyes at him as he rambled on trying to confess to you. You cupped his face and placed a quick, soft kiss on his lips. He froze in complete shock, staring at you wide-eyed with cheeks as red as beetroots. You giggled, forehead pressed against his as you leaned in again. Jae closed his eyes as finally processed what was happening and wrapped his arms around your waist, gently moving his lips against yours, he was on cloud nine. You were finally his, and he was finally yours. It didn’t matter if he still thought you were out of his league, you liked him for him and you wanted him and nobody else and you made sure he was certain of that. When you both finally pulled away, he looked concerned.

“What’s wrong?” You asked softly, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs.

“I’ve never really kissed anyone before and now I’m worrying that I’m bad” He blinked hard, looking like a sad puppy.

“Aw baby, it’s okay. I can help you” You shyly bit your lip, cheeks turning pink. His eyes went ever wider if that was even possible. He muttered an ‘okay’ before taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours as he softly kissed your lips again.

Because of you I’m

From that moment on, there was never a bland, boring day for Jae ever again. He was finally happy and had something to live for, his music and you. He finally had friends who he genuinely liked and who liked him and it was all thanks to you helping him open up and realise the world isn’t as bad as he thinks. You just had to hold his hand and smile up at him with your bright eyes and he felt safe and content. He felt free. 

 Better, better, better baby

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

Fic Rec List (A Tag Game!)

Rules: Post links (Ao3, ff.net, etc.); specify fandom/pairing/etc; don’t answer the same fic twice - spread the appreciation; tag other people; you don’t have to answer all the questions, but leave them in the list so the next person can answer if they want.

i was tagged by @aninfinitenumberofmonkeys, who is also listed below because they’re a banging author and i love love love their work. ALSO i tried to tag the author’s tumblr where i could find it, but if i forgot or i totally fucked up and tagged you for a fic you didn’t write please let me know 😅

Fandoms mentioned are MCU, Stephen King’s It, The Umbrella Academy, Shazam!, Welcome to Night Vale

1. Favourite complete fic you’ve read this month (multiple chapters/parts): and i will not remember that i ever felt the pain by Fluffifullness @fluffifullness (It) -- it’s about the longing! it’s about grief and love and how they’re connected! it’s about the angst! but most importantly it’s about eddie 👏 getting 👏 all 👏 the 👏 hugs 👏👏👏

2. Favourite complete fic you’ve read this month (one-shot): we'll laugh and we'll cry until there's no more tears by knewwellenough @transfinnpoe (It) -- what’s better than this? coupla guys bein’ dudes, coupla dudes cryin’ and huggin’, coupla guys bein’ gay. ugh god i’m still weeping over this reunion hug, like, yeah there’s smut eventually but guys the hUG--

3. Favourite WIP you’ve read this month: hold on i still need you by QueenWithABeeThrone (It) because @viciousmaukeries is both a master of the written word and a genie specializing in granting my very specific fic wishes before i’ve even thought to wish them, so please, go read this tam lin au i’m still losing my whole mind over it

4. One fic/series you’ve read which you keep coming back to again and again:  hoping to be found by eddiespaghetti (foxwatson) @eddykaspbraks (It) -- *blows a kiss in the general direction of NYC* for eddie kaspbrak getting the healing he deserves

5. Most underrated fic you’ve read this year: did you know there’s no option to sort your bookmarks by kudos wtf anyway let’s go with some by virtue fall by StarryCleric (Umbrella Academy) because WHY are all my favorite five character studies so criminally underappreciated

6. Most underrated fic you’ve read EVER: trade all my tomorrows by tombenough_and_continent (Umbrella Academy) because again, why are all my favorite five character studies so underappreciated, wtf where’s the LOVE for my sad traumatized old man assassin, huh??? where???

7. Favourite whump/angst fic of the year: Next time, hire a nanny by TheArchaeologist @ancientstone (Umbrella Academy) i am counting this as whump/angst because my dude gets real hurt in this, but tbh it’s the ACTION i love this fic for, just nonstop heart pumping adrenaline and worry for my favorite time traveling (retired) assassin and his adorable little niece, and some amazingly soft hurt/comfort at the end

8. Favourite hurt/comfort fic of the year: If Either Way's The Hard Road by altschmerzes @altschmerzes (Shazam!) -- brothers being soft! my soft spot for kids played by jack dylan grazer strikes again! ahhh! good shit!

9. Favourite fluff fic of the year: Everybody Comes A-Running by Infinite_Monkeys @aninfinitenumberofmonkeys (MCU, GotG) -- listen, i KNOW i’m biased! i know! but this is still SO SO GOOD. the image of loki falling asleep while the guardians doodle on his leg cast is a gift i never knew i needed and it’s fantastic

11. Favourite smut fic of the year: Things That Happens After Eddie Lives (It) by IfItHollers @tthael is not, strictly speaking, a “smut fic,” it’s a fix-it that just happens to have some E-rated scenes, and it would have fit fine in #4′s slot because i’ve reread the whole thing so many times, but listen, this fic’s sex scenes are like the only sex scenes i’ve ever read and liked. talk about keeping in character, man! top fucking notch! plus there’s a line in there like “eddie knows exactly what oxygen does to fire but he breathes in anyway” while richie’s going down on him and, really, that line alone gives it this position on the list SO

10. Favourite gen fic of the year: the only soul I've ever saved by valkyrisms @valkyrisms (MCU, Thor, Spider-man) -- i just had the absolute pleasure of rereading this because it’s been months and i forgot so much of it, GOD if there’s a perfect way to write the unlikely friendship of loki and peter parker, it is unequivocally this

12. Favourite fix-it fic of the year/ever: An Eye For An Eye by dgalerab @dgalerab (Umbrella Academy) because it is no secret at all that this is my favorite fic, and series, bar none. season 2 will not live up to this, i’ve already accepted it, i’m alright with it, because i can always come back and read this after, y’know?

13. Favourite crack-fic fic of the year: 

14. Favourite sick-fic this year: 

15. Favourite kid-fic this year: kith and kin by penhaligon @arthurpenhaligons (Umbrella Academy) i know i’ve flailed over this on tumblr before but, guys, c’mon, UNCLE FIVE. what else do i need to say? i still cry every time i reach five saying “i don’t want to do this anymore” even though i’ve reread this several times, i just....... five ;_;

15. Fic this year which you didn’t expect to love as much as you do: Mostly Void, Partially Stars by Infinite_Monkeys @aninfinitenumberofmonkeys (MCU, Thor, Welcome to Night Vale) because who writes an mcu night vale crossover and makes it work? oh my god how, this was so good, it’s a mark of superb writing when i actually bark laugh while reading it, like, what a concept, what execution, what a fic, take all my kudos just take em

16. Fic which convinced you to ship a pairing: 

17. Favourite AU you’ve read this year: Who You Gonna Call..? by lesbuchanan @lesbuchanan (Umbrella Academy) -- why is river consistently the most galaxy brained person on this site? i have no words but *chef’s kiss*

18. Longest fic/series you’ve read this year: Keep the Car Running (MCU, GotG) starmora! woo! literally 300k+ of starmora and i did not regret a single second of the entire week it took me to read it

19. The last fic you’ve read: all good things by Fluffifullness @fluffifullness (It) -- pleASE someone for the love of god go read this fic and come scream about it with me, it’s just. so good. so so good. the losers defeat pennywise but don’t manage to prevent all those eggs from hatching, resulting in an apocalypse au that so far is MINDBLOWINGLY good and i’m dying over here just thinking about it

20. Wildcard fic you haven’t mentioned but deserves a shout-out + why:  In Our Bones by scullyseviltwin @scullyseviltwin (It) because it made me CRY and then it made me cry AGAIN and i LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT

EDIT I WAS SUPPOSED TO TAG PEOPLE AKJHSKJFHAKJFH WHOOPS uhhh okay how bout if i tagged you as an author consider yourself tagged? yeah let’s go with that, but like, no pressure you know the drill just do it if you feel like it or if you’re like me and you’re using this as an excuse to procrastinate other things

EDIT #2 also just like. do this. if you feel like it, regardless of whether you’re tagged or not, just like........ pretend i tagged you aiight

[boysfile]

▸ pairing: daehwi x reader.

▸ genre: best friends to lovers au. fluff.

▸ warnings: none.

▸ word count: 1.8k

✎ — synopsis: you lost your textbook and the only person you can borrow one from was your best friend. but you got bored in class and starts doodling all over his book.

✎ — a/n: so this is my first actual? fic post on tumblr uwu. tbh i was pretty intimidated by a lot of things while writing this but i thoroughly enjoyed the process so i hope you like it!

panic. panic was the only thing you felt. you paced around your room, desperately trying to find your chemistry textbook, but to no avail. 

the first thing you thought of was to phone your best friend, who you didn’t know if it was lucky or not that he was in a different class from you.

unlucky because you can’t goof around in class.

lucky because now you can scream for his help.

after much persuasion, he agreed. on a condition that his textbook returns to him with zero alternations. which meant no ripped pages or corners, no highlighting or pencil marks, and no spilling of coffee.

you swiftly agreed to his conditions and gave him a virtual hug through your phone screen. quickly, you packed your bag, glad that the frenzied search for your chemistry textbook is over.. for now.

when you arrived at the school, daehwi was already waiting for you at your locker, arms hugging the 5 kilograms worth of paper. you walked over to him, held out your arms, and wrapped him in a big hug. thanking him for letting you borrow his textbook. 

you hurriedly rushed to your chemistry classroom as the class had already started. the professor wrote a reference page on the board and you quickly opened daehwi’s textbook to find the page. 

upon finding the passage, you took notice of how neat and clean your best friend’s book was. nothing was out of place; pencil marks and highlighted sentences. ruler-lined tables and scaled diagrams. every single thing was for the benefit of his study. 

you looked back up at the professor, he was talking about something to do with acids and alkaline. you have no interest in chemistry, only taking it as your parents have told you to. 

basically. class was boring.

so you instinctively whipped out your pencil case, grabbed your favourite pencil, and started doodling on daehwi’s book; already forgetting about the initial promise. various small images started to decorate the white spots on the page, slowly being filled with pencil sketches of unicorns, dinosaurs, flowers and even slices of cake. as you giggled at your failed drawing of a penguin, the bell rang, signalling the end of the period.

you slowly walked to the cafeteria, hoping to avoid the crowds who were pining for the last melon bun. it’s always hellish when recess starts, students and staff alike rushing to the cafe hoping to get a single muffin. 

you went to your usual table, hand still holding daehwi’s textbook. you took out your phone, wanting to call him to tell him where you were. but before you could hit dial, you felt a gentle tug on your ponytail. you turned around and there he was. smiling at you like you were the sun itself. you could feel your cheek burn crimson from the mischievous gesture, clearing your throat, you looked at daehwi. with a playful glint in your eyes before shutting them and crossing your arms.

“you shouldn’t do that to a lady you know.” upon hearing this. daehwi froze in his spot, hoping he didn’t offend you. you looked at his stance through your eyelashes, seeing how tense he was, you relaxed your expression and chuckled. daehwi took this as a sign that he was in the clear. 

“daehwi. you didn’t do anything wrong, i was just joking with you.” you sighed out, still amazed at how seemingly wonderful your acting skills were. maybe you should consider dropping chemistry and take drama instead. 

“okay good. i genuinely thought you would dislike me…” he mumbled the last part under his breath, hoping you wouldn’t catch it. but little did he know, you have perfect hearing. so you did hear everything he said and you felt your blood rushing to your face once again. 

after a short period of silence. you looked back at the book that was still in your arms, completely forgetting the reason why you had planned to phone him in the first place. so you awkwardly stood in front of daehwi and handed him the textbook. honestly speaking, this scene felt like the cliched love letter scene. except its a chemistry textbook and not a confession letter. 

seemingly lost in thought, daehwi was slightly shocked at the sudden movement from you, only to reveal his chemistry textbook in your hands. 

after seeing his reaction to your seems-like-a-love-confession-but-its-not attempt at returning his textbook, you couldn’t hold it in anymore and started laughing out loud. scaring an already frightened daehwi.

“um.. y/n..? is there something wrong? are you okay?” your laugh continues to escape from your lungs, though you wanted to hold it in. 

“no. i’m.. fine.. totally. yeah, i’m fine.” you said through your obnoxiously loud laugh.

you then looked at daehwi again, your gaze asking him why he isn’t taking his textbook back telepathically. and he understood you, so he walked closer to you and took the weight off your arms. 

you sighed in contempt, before uttering a small “finally”. after that, you both parted ways, going back to your designated classrooms. him to chemistry and you to maths. 

little did you know. after daehwi sat in his classroom, the first thing he did was open the book. 

and he was shocked. 

no it wasn't because of the amount of doodles that covered the white spots of the paper. but rather, the subject of these doodles. he looked through his use-to-be-pristine textbook and compared it to whatever it was now. nothing but clean. every white space he could find, he would see one of your pencil doodles. unicorns, ice-cream cones, rainbows, dolphins, and even penguins were sprawled out on his book. a new universe on each page. he knew you had always kept your childish side inside yourself, not willing to let it go nor show it to others. it might be weird, but he felt proud knowing you trusted him enough to doodle all over his textbook. 

he smiled to himself. he liked it. he liked how deep you were willing to let him in, how much you trusted him. he liked how your eyes sparkle looking at waffles, he liked how a slight brush of your hand against his would send his heart flying out of him, and most importantly, he loved how oblivious you were to his obvious crush on you. 

daehwi wants to tell you. he really wanted to be able to just man up and confess how he truly feels, but his brain always find ways to stop him from doing so. multiple times he was so close, but he couldn't. and he regretted it, so so much. 

now, the both of you are stuck in the same relationship of "best friends". everyone around you could see how in love both of you were. you don't show it as much, but it's pretty obvious how head over heels daehwi is for you. 

he let out a sigh, looking back at the bulk of paper in front of him. the class continues as usual, not understanding the running contradictions inside daehwi's head as he sat in his spot, flicking through the pages to study your adorable additions to his once boring book. 

class went by quickly while he was looking at your markings on the paper and he quickly packed up when the bell rang. he had the widest grin on his face and he couldn't wipe it off. not that he was complaining. 

you noticed daehwi walk out of his classroom, and naturally, you waited for him to slowly make his way towards you. you glanced at him, not wanting him to see you eyeing him. it wasn't unusual for him to be bubbly and happy, but you've never seen such a wide and genuine grin plastered on his face before. you felt a little sad, not knowing you were the reason for his smile. 

"y/n."

you slightly flinched at his voice, it was gentle but demanding at the same time. you slowly turned around in an almost cartoon way, he saw your hesitation and smiled at you, letting you know that he was not angry.

"i really wish you would tell me that you liked doodling. and its ice-cream and unicorns and rainbows too..." you casted your gaze towards the floor, slightly ashamed at your choice of subject. but daehwi wasn't mad at you, he was far from that. he was enchanted by how your heart held on to these fantasies and lively colors, unlike his which was black and white until you came into his life. 

"i'm sorry..." your voice was barely above a whisper. daehwi continued to silently gaze at you, not saying a single thing. you looked up at him, eyes glazed over with forming tears. immediately, that sent daehwi into a panic. he rushed to you, trapping you in a bear hug. 

"shh... don't cry. i don't want to see you cry. i only ever want to see you smile." daehwi whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. daehwi slightly parted from you, creating some space in between the two of you, and moved his hand up to caress your face to look into your glossy round orbs. he could see his reflection in your eyes and he saw how worried he looked. well, what can he say? he is worried. 

he cleared his throat to hopefully gain some confidence in what he was about to do. you noticed his not-so-usual actions and looked up at him, arms still wrapped around his waist, waiting for him to say something.

"y/n? can you listen to me for a moment?" you nodded your head and hummed, hoping that it would help him get whatever he wanted to say out of him. daehwi took another deep breath, threading his fingers in your hair, and opened his mouth to speak his mind.

"the little drawings you did in my textbook is still totally uncalled for." you looked at him in the eyes, pretending to be offended by his words. he gave you a look and you retreated back into your right of course, we made a deal whoops expression. 

after a couple of seconds had gone by again, daehwi continued his unfinished statement. "but i loved it, just like how i love you." he said the second part in the tiniest font and you looked at him, shocked that this kind of cheesiness came out of his mouth. at this, you felt your face heating up again as small droplets of water rolled down your cheeks. before daehwi could even open his mouth to ask what happened, you got onto your toes and pecked him on the lips. 

"i love you too, daehwi."

daehwi was visibly flushed at the sudden contact, but he recovered quickly, pulling you close once again to indulge in your hug. the both of you had completely forgotten that you were in the middle of the school cafeteria as loud cheers were heard, shocking you as they congratulated the new couple.

✎ — masterlist

[soukoku-rivals]

The internet is back!

And so am I!

This is just an extra post to let you know I updated all the links in the previous pages and also that amazing dsknsk translated chapter 3.5 into Dutch. LINK IS HERE, check it out.

On a side note, tumblr seems to be eating all their messages to me unless it’s a private chat message or anonymous ask. Does anyone know what’s wrong with that?

Also, since I’m here, and I have a day off after 5 days of 12 hours horrid shifts at work I decided to make myself feel better and reply to all your comments today and add some chapter/volume notes to the update tomorrow.

Scratch that, as I started answering the comments it turned into me rambling about everything and anything. It’s all a mess down there, read at your own risk.

I love Fyodor. He’s supposed to be the bad guy but he’s just so amazing. Not only voiced by my absolutely favourite VA but also the type of character I love most [which is basically the same type of character Akira Ishida voices most of the time and I’m perfectly fine with that]. That means I’ll take great care drawing him every time and he will probably look soft and nice until he stabs you in the back. Even then he’ll look all soft and nice about it.

I mean, come on, this guy voiced Xellos. The love of my life. I’m Aro/Ace [by the way, happy Pride Month!] and if people I speak with about that keep insisting I ‘just haven’t found the right person yet’ I usually end up saying ‘of course, nobody is as perfect as Xellos’ and tell them about all my endless love for that jerk. They just leave the subject thinking I’m crazy.

Xellos is just the best, he was my first trickster and he made me love all the fictional and mythological tricksters there are. I often doodle him at work, alone or with other tricksters or having fun with Loki [a trickster] and Lex.

Or having lots of fun killing people when I’m in a bad mood.

Yes, I pin these on the corkboard in my room.

My love for Xellos carries over to Fyodor. To be honest, he is the reason I even started watching BSD. I sometimes check if Akira Ishida ever voices interesting characters and Fyodor looked like a fun one. So here we are. You can thank Fyodor for this comic.

Oh, how I love your comments, they always sound so excited. Make me feel I actually do a good job with this story. The internet is back only since yesterday evening, but I’ve been stalking my own blog on my phone over the last few days and let me tell you - you always make me smile, you wonderful person you! If I could, I would hug you.

It sound crazy but I swear, I’m not drunk or anything, just happy to be back.

It’s been a few years since Alex and Chuuya last saw each other. The only way they would recognise each other would be by the numbers and since Lex was unconscious and Chuuya always covers his tattoo [the hospital scene when he didn’t have his choker on was a nightmare] of course, Chuuya didn’t realise it was Alex he helped rescue. I had Atsushi only use his last name for the same reason. It was all very awkward. I’m glad it’s all out there now.

Again, the link is HERE, check it out!

Ahhh! So am I >.< we get to the good parts now!

I don’t think I had an origin of the choker in this story, if I did, I can’t remember. We can go with that!

I’m happy my comic can be of help! Good luck with your exams!

Your commets and reblogs are relief for my stress at work. That and my doodles. Did I say I doodle a lot at work? Well, lately I’m in Moomin fandom so most of my doodles have Moomin and Snufkin in them. However, the worse mood I am in at work, the darker the doodles get. So, even though the Moomin fandom is so nice and soft, I have doodles of possesed Snufkin holding a bloody knife or some mysterious, tentacle monter sneakily attacking him in the lake.

Aaand only after I wrote that last sentence I realised we’re here in an anime fandom and there’s only one thing tentacles want to do with people and I really did not mean in that way. I should hide that picture somewhere deep in a drawer so nobody can see it now.

But Moomins also help me keep calm. There were a few pictures where they’re still nice and cuddly.

The second one someone either threw away or took it because I left it where i leave all my pictures while my shift is in and it was missing the next day. Such a shame.

This reblog and comment combined with my love for Moomins made me think of an alternative way the story could go now.

Fyodor, poor sod, is just lonely. He knows nobody likes him and nobody would trust him since he’s such a bad villain so he erases Chuuya’s memories to befriend him. If Chuuya doesn’t remember him, he can’t hate him, right?

He takes Chuuya on a holiday, to the Disneyland or somewhere, and they have some happy gay time together and everything is nice and fun and nobody tries to kill anyone. And they fall in love. But than Chuuya gets his memories back [courtesy of Dazai] and Fyodor is devastated, he thinks Chuuya will hate him even more now. But Chuuya is such an awesome person and says ‘If you wanted go to Disneyland together, you should’ve just say so. I love Disney!’

And they get back together, though they never really broke up. And Dazai is like ‘alright, if it means Fyodor stops killing people I’m fine with that.’ He’s not fine. Obviously. Jealous little bastard, he hides it well, though. But Chuuya knows. Chuuya still has feelings for Dazai and they are mutual. And Fyodor knows as well. Guess what? Fyodor reminds Chuuya he has two hands and they all live happily ever after in an polyamorous relationship. The and.

But that’s not how this story goes.

I love brainwashing in fiction. I love it so, so much, nearly as much as I love Fyodor. So yeah, heh heh... um... you know, have fun reading next chapter, I guess.

Oh, I have a big thing planned for their reunion. Just you wait.

So, that’s it. I hope I didn’t miss anything. Have a lovely day!

[ask-misto-magichrome]

Question Time part 1

Recently I answered some questions along with my sister @ask-victoria-pastelgoth about being a twin. It's full of revelations all around.

1: Which is the youngest?

Misto: *points over to Victoria* The official baby of the family.

Victoria: yep and I enjoy it for the most part

Misto: she gets away with murder

Victoria: but I’m not allowed a boyfriend

2: Are you identical?

Misto: Except for the biggest obvious difference, yeah pretty much. Same face shapes, same natural hair colour. *mumbles* same height...

Victoria: but technically we are fraternal twins

Misto: ohh technically.

Victoria: *is not amused*

3: What is your twins favourite food?

Misto: The souls of those who have wronged her.

Victoria: *smacks him on the head* idiot, he is obsessed with Coffee if that counts as food.

Misto: I have no idea what you're talking about *sips from an iced latte*

Victoria: meanwhile I have been known to devour anything chocolate *blushes*

Misto: chocolate covered souls.

Victoria: can we please move on to the next question, I feel like I will kill any minute.

4: What is your favourite memory of each other?

Misto: Vic would go to dance lessons then come back and teach me what she learned until they let me go too.

Victoria: *smiling* whenever I felt sad Misto would put on a little magic show for me, even if some of the tricks didn’t work it still put a smile on my face.

5: Who takes more time to get ready?

Misto: *silently sips coffee*

Victoria: that would depend Misto takes at least half an hour for tugger *smirks*

Misto: I do not! Anyway who spends an hour deciding between dresses every date they have? Ohhh do you think he'd prefer the blue or the-

Victoria: *tackles Misto*

6: Name a common friend of yours.

Misto: We have a couple actually. Jemima, Jerrie, Teazer, Plato.

Victoria: I would say Munk but he’s more friends with our older brother. And don’t forget Cettie and Electra

7: What is your favourite film to watch together?

Misto: *glaring at Victoria* Don't you dare.

Victoria: *smirking* I love seeing how worked up you get over it. But Twilight is the last film we would enjoy together, I got bored. However I would say we enjoy watching musicals together.

Misto: I told you to not! And for the record I did not enjoy Twilight. The whole thing is unreasonable!

Victoria: well I only watched it to laugh at it with Jem but apparently these two enjoyed it only I got bored.

Misto: -alive for all eternity and are 100% completely straight! Theres no way!

Victoria: please just move on or we’ll be here all day

8: Who is better at studying?

Misto: Me. Easy. Next question.

Victoria: hold on you only study when it’s something to with magic

Misto: and your notebooks are covered in doodles about all the boys you think are cute. You don't even have colour coordinated notes!

Victoria: I do when we have a test coming up.

Misto: *just stares at her for a second* next question.

9: Who is a better driver?

Misto: Well, Alonzo doesn't like me driving the car. I can't think why.

Victoria: you haven’t passed your driver’s license, me I’m stuck on learner’s. To Alonzo if he can drive we don’t need to know how to.

Misto: my provisional license is mainly used for ID when buying alcohol.

Victoria: So never

10: Who is good at sports?

Misto: er.... is Alonzo an option?

Victoria: our sport of choice is more dancing.

Misto: I'd say it's not as competitive but have you seen some of those dance competitions?

Victoria: some of those guys train to the point of collapse

Misto: Ew

11: Do you have the same personalities?

Misto: Sometimes. Occasionally she's a spoil sport and ruins the fun.

Victoria: sometimes you go overboard with magic

Misto: So you say

Victoria: and Alonzo has said it too

Misto: Yeah coz he's the expert

Victoria: whatever you say

Misto: *mouths know it all.*

12: Do you have any nicknames for each other?

Misto: Vic, Vicky, loser, Oi works a lot too. Darcey Bussell when she screws up a dance move. The Queen.

Victoria: mainly Misto, magic man, wannabe magician when he blows up something.

13: Does your twin have any annoying habits?

Misto: Hogging the bathroom and the tumble dryer. "Borrowing" CDs.

Victoria: spraying glitter everywhere when he does Magic, changing the channel when I’m watching something

14: Whos closest to your parents?

Misto: *Goes silent, just glaring to the side. Refusing to answer*

Victoria: our parents died when we were young, Alonzo says it was a car crash, we were raised by our Uncle Bustopher Jones until Alonzo found a stable home and job and was old enough to look after us. I never knew why Uncle Bustopher only took in Misto and I and not Alonzo.

Misto: *slouched back, arms folded defensively clearly not enjoying listening to this.*

15: Did you ever dress alike?

Misto: Everyone always thought it was cute to put us in matching outfits when we were younger.

Victoria: but now we have very different dressing styles but sometimes we would wear similar outfits, it always got Alonzo to smile.

16: Who loves shopping more?

Misto: Depends what for.

Victoria: if clothes and music then me, if coffee it’s him.

Misto: And stationary. Don't forget The Cupboard.

Victoria: right sorry was he is obsessed with stationary even though you don’t use most of it.

Misto: But it looks pretty!

Victoria: So does my piercings bit you don’t see me getting millions of them.

Misto: Yet.

Victoria: I’ve only got a few in both ears, and in my belly button *turns from Misto since that was something she got without her brothers’ knowledge or permission*

Misto: someone won't be wearing crop tops this summer.

17: What three things do you most commonly fight about?

Misto: we're perfect and never fight. *grin*

Victoria: yep we’re perfect angels

18: Do you share secrets?

Misto: Yeah. No. Kinda? Mostly.

Victoria: mainly we hide secrets together from Alonzo unless there is something Misto isn’t telling me

Misto: I'd never hide anything you need to know. Or anything involving you.

Victoria: okay Misto I believe you.

19: Which is the better cook?

Misto: Me obviously. Cooking is a science after all.

Victoria: if by cooking you mean burning everything to ash. *smirks* I’m the better cook and my food is delicious.

Misto: I do not burn everything to ash! If you're talking about the spaghetti incident, I just forgot to poke it down into the pan and it flopped outside the pan and the stove set it on fire!

Victoria: at that was one time

Misto: I make good coffee its all thats required!

Victoria: for you

20: Whos room is cleaner?

Misto: I couldn't possibly-

Victoria: it’s mine and we both know it, Uncle Bustopher always said it was like walking into a tornado when he described Misto’s room.

Misto: It's not that its messy. There's just... a lot of notes tacked to the wall. Astrological notes, moon phases, crystal properties, herbs... I mean if I'm doing this whole magic thing I might as well go the whole way right?

Victoria: well you are right brother

21: On your birthday do you have one cake or two?

Misto: It's fun to try making one cake with two wildly different themes.

Victoria: yep it always starts off with us making one cake but then something happens and Alonzo just gives us two cupcakes. It’s still fun though.

Misto: yeah we're not really too bothered about cake.

Victoria: yep it’s more about spending the time as family

22: As children did you play with each other or other siblings too?

Misto: For a while Alonzo did play with us.

Victoria: till he was too busy working

Misto: which obviously isn't his fault. Its just a shame. He's always so stressed nowadays.

Victoria: but we just got told that we are going to his university so maybe we could have some time together between classes.

Misto: unless its his academic studies getting in the way there.

23: What is the weirdest thing you did together?

Misto: is it possible to decide on just one, Vic?

Victoria: yeah we got bored easy at our uncle’s and tried a lot of different things.

Misto: Theres always a lot of weird things around his house.

Victoria: yeah breakable things

24: What is the last thing you did together?

Misto: Answer question number 23

Victoria: pretty much yeah.

Misto: you need better questions.

25: Who is more straightforward?

Misto: *Points with a little twirl at Victoria*

Victoria: *scowls at him* okay so I prefer to tell others the truth but I still tell white lies.

Misto: yeah but you get to the point. It doesn't have to be a bad thing. I've been know to skirt around an issue because I don't want to say it outright.

Victoria: like you’re love for Tugger?

Misto: like my- no! Shurrup!

Victoria: you didn’t deny it

Misto: *gives her a glare*

Victoria: *looks back at him bored*

26: What is your favourite thing about your twin?

Misto: She's not taller than me.

Victoria: that he does magic

27: Out of your twins friends who is your least favourite?

Misto: Electra. She's judges me I just know it.

Victoria: just because she quieter than her sister does not mean she judges you.

Misto: She sits there... glaring at me.

Victoria: have you talked to her? Oh and to answer your question Electra’s twin Etcetera she squeals so much

Misto: She really does. Funny I thought youd say Pounce. You said he was a bad influence the other day.

Victoria: yeah but really it doesn’t help that Pounce,Tumble,George and Plato all follow Tugger like fan girls

Misto: whats that got to do with anything? The amount you bring up Tugger, it looks like you have the obsession not me.

Victoria: look I only said Pounce and tumble and George were bad influences on Plato that’s all

28: Whos better at drawing?

Misto: Do doodles of the person you have a crush on that day count as drawing? Coz if so, her.

Victoria: *blushes* I’m not really that good

Misto: definitely better than me though. I don't really have the patience to develop that skill.

Victoria: thanks Misto

Stay tuned for part 2!

[heartcravings]

50 Questions Tag!

@jongin-be-my-jagi​ tagged me for this a while ago, but I took my sweet time to answer. Here is my secret intel if you want to know me a little bit more!! Check hers as well, she’s an amazing writer and friend. 1. What takes up too much of your time? Tumblr, my stupid procrastination prone brain and my thesis. 

2. What makes your day better? Friends and loved ones, music and these absolute dorks (Channie especially) 

3. What’s the best thing that happened to you today? I hopped on the mat today in the early hours of the morning, rain on my window and the neighbours cat peeking at me from his window across the street.

4. What fictional place would you like to go to? Wonderland, bacause it’s “curiouser and curiouser!”

'Who are you?' said the Caterpillar.  Alice replied, rather shyly, 'I — I hardly know, sir, just at present — at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.'

5. Are you good at giving advice? I think so. Not so good at following my own advice though.  I do always consider where the other is standing and if I don’t know how to proceed then I’ll just be honest and say I can’t help. But i’ll always listen with my heart. 

 6. Do you have any mental illnesses? Not diagnosed. I do think i might be going through something now. 

7. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? No, but i have a recurring nightmare: the world is made of black and white paper thin layers. I am a paper thin person walking along a street surrounded by paper thin buildings. I walk for a long time, looking up at the white sky. Until the street ends, there is no more building and i fall into the abyss of a blank page.  I have had this dream since the age of 8 or 9 years old. Fear of not being good enough, you say?! Ding, ding, ding!! We got a winner in the back!  8. What musician inspired you the most? I get inspired by music all the time!! One of my all time favourite songs is Spanish Sahara by Foals. Its sublime!

So I’d say I’m mainly inspired by these artists: Queen, Arctic Monkeys, Foals, Radiohead, Bowie, Daughter, Bob Dylan, Beirut, Yeah yeah yeahs, Arcade Fire, The National, Joy Division, Blur, Warpaint, Gorillaz, Sufjan Stevens, Bon Iver, Chet Baker, The Cure, Courtney Barnett, The Maccabees, Car Seat Headrest, Florence + The Machine, Editors, Kasabian, Crystal Fighters, Death Cab for a cutie, The Doors, Efterklang, Explosions in the Sky, Franz Ferdinand, The Horrors, James Blake, José Gonzalez, Los Campesinos!,  Metronomy, Nick Cave, Nina Simone, Patrick Watson,  Phoenix, Sharon Van Etten, The Shins, Simon & Garfunkel, The Smiths, St.Vincent, The Strokes, Toro y Moi, tricot, Tune-Yards, TV on the radio, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, The Vaccines, Vampire Weekend, The Velvet Underground, The War on Drugs, Wild Beasts and Yo La Tengo.

And the electro, pop and hip-hop groves of my heart: EXO, 2NE1, Janelle Monáe, Big Bang, Kris Wu,LCD soundsystem, SBTRKT, Childish Gambino, Frank Ocean, Kendrick Lamar and Daft Punk. 

And special mentions to the portuguese ones (learning from yixing and promoting when i can :P): Capicua, Joana Espadinha, The Legendary Tigerman, Linda Martini, Mayra Andrade, Noiserv, Ornatos Violeta, Paus, Samuel Uria, You Can’t Win Charlie Brown and The Silence 4. I know, tldr right? Sorry folks! 9. Have you ever fallen in love? Yes I have. I have mistaken a crush for love too. But i have definitely been very deeply in love. A wrecked kintsugi heart over here people! 10. What’s your dream date? I don’t think I have one. I’d love to do something unique with that someone special, something special for the two of us. It could be as simple as riding the subway while sharing earphones & listening to our playlist or walking the dogs out! Idk, I’m easy to please. But right now it would have to be with this handsome man :D pretty please?!

11. What do others notice about you? I am very kind and warm hearted, so I think that’s what people first notice when meeting me. Although I maintain good eye contact, I am also timid and will be quieter if there are very energetic people in the group. When alone, I usually take the first step and try to meet people, but only if i really must.  12. What’s an annoying habit you have? It’s really hard for me to ask for help. I also like to tell detailed descriptions of everything... Couldn’t you tell? 13. Do you still talk to your first love? I’ll text him on his birthday and he does the same to me. We met when we were 10 years old and that childhood friendship remains. But regarding my one and truly deep relationship, no we do not talk, unless we randomly meet.

14. How many exes do you have? I have three exes. The first love who was just an idealized crush on my childhood friend: we dated for 2 weeks during summer break xD Then my first real boyfriend, we met in my first year at university, dated for quite some time, he really loved me and made me love myself a little more. Finally the one i loved too much. I mended his wounds and made him love himself as much as I did. I always say all the love we feel makes our hearts grow bigger. I do not regret loving any of them, I am me now due to them and I would not change it if I could. 15. How many songs are in your playlist? I have way too many playlists for each and every mood... But my favourite songs list on spotify has about 1500 songs! uwu!  16. What instruments can you play? Triangles and flute?! I had mandatory music classes in school... so in reality I can’t really play a instrument...

17. Who do you have the most pictures of? Probably my cat, Sushi. With a second close of my doodles and sketches. 

18. Where would you like to go before you die? EVERY WHERE!!! But I really want to go to Japan and Scotland and Iceland and South Korea and New Zealand and i’ll shut up. 19. What’s your zodiac? Capricorn. 20. Do you relate to it? Sort of.

21. What is happiness to you? You know when it’s really cold outside in the winter and you manage to find a sheltered place where no wind can hit you and you still get to feel the warm rays of the winter suns on your skin? You hear the birds outside and you are contempt in that moment, at peace. That is happiness to me.   22. Are you going through anything right now? Yes, I am a bit lost. Trying to finish my thesis and trying to find what I want to do after. It’s liberating but also pretty scary. 23. What’s the worst decision you ever made? It’s a series of small decisions really. It started with going for a phd with the same people i worked in my msc. Should have gone to a different place. Then deciding to come home after a traumatic loss in the family. Should have kept my life going but I stalled it then. (I don’t regret helping my loved ones though).

24. What’s your favourite store? Probably Wishtrend for beauty stuff. Other than that I don’t have any favourite brands/stores. 25. (HALFWAY!) What’s your opinion on abortion? I think everyone is free to decide what they want or need to do. I couldn’t possible judge. If I would it? Probably not.

27. Do you have a favourite album? I don’t think so, I have favourite tunes for different moods and moments in my life. But if threatened with my life, I’d maybe say Total Life Forever from Foals.

28. What do you want for your birthday? It’s such a long time until my birthday comes! But maybe a real EXO ot9 reunion as a goodbye to Minseok?

29. What is most people’s first impression of you? Friendly and easy to open up to, i think.

30. What age do you seem according to most people? In real life, people usually think I am way younger than I am.  31. Where do you keep your phone when you’re sleeping? In the crook of my bed, between the mattress and the bed frame.

32. What word do you say the most? No idea really! 33. What’s the oldest age you’d date? 40s? I don’t think too much about age actually. 

34. What’s the youngest age you’d date? 20s? Again not very important to me. Love is love, whomever, whenever and wherever <3

35. What job / career do most people say would suit you? I don’t know! People always say i don’t totally fit in anything... so there’s that. If you have an idea please let me know! 36. What’s your favourite music genre? Go back to question 8. I listen to everything! :D 37. If you could live in any country in the world where would it be? I’d like to live around the world, every few months a different place and get to know different cultures.

38. What is your current favourite song? I’ve been obsessed with RM’s intro/teaser song, Map of the Soul: Persona. (I’m not even a bts fan, but this music and lyrics just touched me a lot.)

39. How long have you had this blog for? I think for about 6 years? It’s my personal space, where I dump all my obsessions.  

40. What are you excited for? I’m visiting some friends in Granada in a couple of weeks. Yay, tapas!

41. Are you a better talker or listener? Normally I am a better listener. But there are a few people to whom i open like a book. Either words flow right out of me without even thinking or they see throw me. Those truly are my people.

42. What is the last productive thing you did? Prepped meals and cleaned the kitchen. Open the folder and file of my thesis. Read the latest chapter I wrote.  43. What do you want for Christmas? Well, just like for my birthday, there is still such a long time to it! But let’s say i want to have already finish this part of my life and want to find my next adventure.

44. What class do you get the best grades in? No more exams! Ehehe! But I used to have good grades at everything. Physical Education was my lowest mark i think.

45. On a scale of 1-10 how do you feel right now? Right now, a 4? I have a headache.

46. What can you see yourself doing in 10 years? Smiling? :D I want to be happy in my own skin. To feel contempt in my life, doing something that gives me a sense of purpose and having time to share and enjoy with my friends and family. 47. When did you get your first heartbreak? Oh my kintsugi heart has been broken quiet a lot. By friends and lovers and even by myself. I keep patching it up with gold dreams though.  48. At what age do you wanna be married? I will only want to be married if i find the one. So until then I guess. 

49. What career did you want to have as a child? I wanted to be an astronaut and a ballerina. Preferably both!

50. What do you crave right now? Just sitting somewhere and listening to Yeol play the guitar.

Well i finished it! :D I’ll tag @thedeviousdo @ohsenhun @hongseok and @paepsi. I’d love to read yours! Feel free to dismiss it though, it is quite a lot.  Lots of love everyone!! <3 <3 <3

[amicweald]

Poems for strangers - Luke Hemmings

The tranquillity flowing around your head followed the lines you’d draw on your notebook smoothly, composing the silhouette of a posing man. Your stained hand would leave accidental charcoal spots as you slid the pencil over his body, shading the figure imperfectly offering a perfect purpose to it. I broke down your mountains, but never you I didn’t walk 13 thousand miles, but I would have walk 100 And to climb a mountain might have been fun, but your curves will always be my favourites The ghost of the melody danced between your ears as if a guitar was chasing after the words. A bass was added, trembling with your heart and then, came the drums as footsteps coming closer. As stomps grew closer, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. The lyrics fell down your back fading as you opened your eyes up to the new voice entering your headspace. “Hey!” he smiled stepping back, fearing the answer “Hi, uhm…I’m Luke.” The blonde haired boy stretched out his hand towards you and you friendly took it shaking it “Hi, there” you smiled confused, you not very used to random people introducing themselves. You were resting on the immensity of red cinema chairs, that the small venue, where you worked, had. Alone and happily enjoying your lunchtime sketching and humming bodies and lyrics, away from the burning hell that summer had to fill the streets with. “Ahm, you know, actually” he began, pushing the cushioned seat down to sit next to you “I’m part of this band, 5 Seconds of Summer, and I don’t know if you know us but we’re playing here at-” “I know.” you interrupted him unintentionally, making him stop with his arm up still point at the stage, where the band would play that night. “What? Wait, you listen to us?” his smile grew bigger as the guilt in your chest increased just as fast. You scratch the back of your neck, avoiding his blue eyes “Well, no… I just happen to work here” you smiled hoping he wouldn’t eat you out of anger “I know every artist who comes up in this stage, It’s kind of what I do” you laugh uncomfortably. He was so pretty, maybe if you’d have lied he would’ve kept smiling. Idiot. “Oh, you work here…” he sank a little into his chair and before he could speak you continue to try to make him feel better “I work here as a summer job, yeah. Sometimes I help with lights or sound, scenarios, but the thing that I’m known for is the calendar, I basically remind everyone of what’s happening” you laughed, and he smiled back sympathetically “I don’t really have time to listen to music outside these stages” He laughed loudly, as a sense of relief rushed through your body “Well, that’s a bummer, there’s a lot of amazing artists and albums out there nowadays” “I bet, but trust me, the only music I get to hear throughout the year is the same old boring ones my teachers insists on making me dance to.” your hands joined on your knees, tugging your notebook closer to you. He was such a taller presence next to you. You felt his strong cologne hugging your body making it impossible to forget, his pierced smile made momentarily your heart race and you felt your face grow warmer when you notice his dimples. “You dance in class? I don’t remember that being a thing back when I was your age” he joked. “I’m majoring in dancing, dumb head.” he hummed at you with a smile “‘Back when you were my age’ was like a week ago. You’re like what? 19?” “Close. I’m 20” his hand grabbed his chin, joking a seductive look “Guess I still keep my looks, huh?” you laugh hiding your face behind your hands “And you? How old are you?” “A strong 18 and a half years old, sir” you announced proudly. “So, does this 18 and a half ballerina have a name?” “I didn’t introduce my self, did I?” your cheeks burnt pink just as your bottom lip did, while Luke shook his head amused in the background “I’m Y/n, sorry” “You really don’t look like a dancer, Y/n” he bit his bottom lip next to his black piercing. Something tickled inside your belly before you replied “What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t have the ballet girl body?” His dimples deepened watching you smile “No, no. You’re perfectly fine. I just thought of you more like a musician.” You’re perfectly fine. “A musician?” you laughed. “That was actually the reason why I came to talk to you.” you watch his lips carefully following his hand movements as the voice that was meant to haunt your memory spoke “Me and my band are doing some gigs here and there but we’re trying to build a new album and we’re just looking for inspiration and different points of view of the world, you know. I was going to ask you if you write poems or even music.” the chant of his voice almost distracted you from the question, the one you blushed at, trying not to give away that in your hands were the pages that you filled with melodies, verses and doodles. “Well, I guess sometimes I do.” “Do ever shared them with anyone?” “Rarely, only when I think it’s decent enough” “What do you think of writing a poem or show me one of yours and I’ll arrange a song with it?” his blue eyes pierced your shiny ones to reach your soul, it was hard to deny such offer, but most importantly to deny such a man. “Really? Like you guys would sing and play it?” “Yeah, of course. That’s like the whole point of this album” his smile came up again. His black painted nails drummed against the armrest of the chair, his forearm led up to his bicep hugged tightly by the sleeve of his shirt. His collarbones poked out off out of the shirt’s collar and you felt yourself lost in burning cheeks again. He was beautiful. “That would be awesome” you smiled for the 100th time to him “I actually keep the poems I wrote in here” you looked down at the book in your hand, leading his eyes to it. Looking at it you felt embarrassed by the messiness of notebook: it was stained in its sides, had papers of different sizes folded in it and it was ridiculously fat “I need to get a new one”. “And you write 'sometimes’ you say?” he looked surprised at the notebook, resisting the temptation of open it immediately and read the creativity of the girl in front of him. “Well sometimes in a day, I guess.” you shyly replied. “I knew you wrote poems, you just have that vibe.” he laughed. You opened up the notebook you’ve never shown to anyone. All the thoughts that fill your mind orderer into rhyming sentences were overflowing that book. “I strangely trust you, Luke” you slowly search through the pages, looking for a poem that you were mildly proud of until you reached one about yourself and your journey as to accept you as you were. You apprehensively look at his royal eyes and something weird felt down your body. A sense of safeness excessed from his iris and his endearing smile felt like you were being held warmly behind your back. You hand him over the poem and you breathe deeply while he blandly mouthed your handwriting. After a minute he breath out the last words, startling you a bit “’I am worth it, I’ve always been’…” he took a moment to sink in your words and you sank in your chair out of embarressement “You know, it’s not that well written and maybe has a poor concept, I-” “This is beautiful, Y/n” he looked back into the mirrors and flowers doodle around the poem, completely aroused. You didn’t notice but your heart was pounding against your chest and didn’t know how to make it stop. You were out of words to say, you were not expecting a compliment, it also didn’t help the pulsation of your heart. You looked down at your now empty and vulnerable hands and the only thing you could think of came out in a whisper “It’s really personal.” Some long seconds went by until his sight left the poem noticing you and your flustered mess again. “Hey” his hand touched gently your shoulder unfocusing your thoughts “I’m a writer too, ok? You don’t need to be scared or embarrassed of what you feel. I do this all the time.” he pointed “It feels like I’m giving all of me to art but sometimes you just need it. You just need to get it out, for someone to listen. This is truly…” he didn’t finish and instead squeeze your arm looking at your soft smile. His eyes burnt your skin and you hid yourself behind your hands, leaning onto the armrest separating you both “I’m such a derp” you said. You heard him chuckled above you. But apart from the melody of his giggle playing in your brain, it was his arms around you that made you freeze in your place. His hands were hugging your back making your skin tickle and burn at the touch through your sweatshirt, your heart skipped a beat and you could hear it relaxing and slowing down again from the euphoric moment. Before he let go your arms travelled to his waist resting on his arms and almost magically, both of you pulled tighter in the hug at the same time, as a puff of his perfume filled your lungs. Here you were hugging a complete stranger, a stranger that had just read something you wouldn’t give to anyone and a stranger who made you feel better than any of your previous boyfriends did. His hand dived into your hair, brushed through it and as he slowly pulled off placed his hand on your cheek. Your head slid off his neck, but he didn’t push away. “Thank you for letting me read that poem. It’s beautifully written.” he whispered. You were inches apart, your noses almost touched and you could smell the mint toothpaste in his breath. Your eyes were stuck on his comforting voice and pink lips, just as his were on yours.   But reality hit Luke softly and he looked down at the opened book on the armrest, as he leaned back your hand placed his biceps fell but he gently caught it holding it around his fingertips. You felt drugged, everything besides from you two was blurry, something stronger than anything you’ve remembered pushed you to him and you couldn’t see any disadvantages in that. With his other hand, he closed the notebook and it seemed like his voice hadn’t gotten deeper and sore, but still gentle "Will I see you tonight?” he asked rubbing his thumbs on your palm, the butterflies were ranging inside. “I wouldn’t miss it.” you looked up to him, forcing him to look back. Suddenly everything was crystal blue, but everything you could focus on was the trembling ocean that the blue would escape to show. His eyebrows furrowed as if he was in pain, as if he didn’t want to feel this way, as if he didn’t want to be this vulnerable again. He led your hand close to his mouth placing a long kiss on it, shivers electrocuted your whole arm. He let your hand fall on your notebook and stood up. You wanted to say something, something that would make him stay, but you couldn’t find a poem to ask and you couldn’t find a melody to sing. “Until then, beautiful.” he left with a smile, which only made you retribute it with another. As he walked out of the room, you looked back to the hand he just kissed. Your heart deeply pounded in your chest, the butterflies fond their way out and they were humming around your head, the lights on the stage seemed brighter and your body lighter. Did I just fell in love with a stranger? But he was no stranger, in your heart, you’ve known him for years.

______

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Bad At Love{P1} {Photographer!Keith x Prodigy!Reader}{AU}

Words: 5344

  Summary: Keith Kogane was known for being the good-boy-gone-bad. You were known for being the emotionless prodigy that only ever showed up to school to stop her foster parents from getting arrested. Whenever you two are put together on a school project after briefly meeting during detention, you find your world tipping upside down as you realise that there’s more to life than science and logic.

  Pairing: Photographer!Keith x Prodigy!Reader

  Warning: Keith swears a lil bit.

  Notes: p2 - p3 - p4 - p5 - p6 - FINAL; CHAPTER 1 OF MY NEW KEITH FIC! PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK! 

  Chapter 1

    “Did your massive IQ get you in trouble again?”

   The words at the first thing you hear as you step through the door of the foster home you had been cooped up in for nearly two months now, occupied by the all-so-friendly Ann Marie Park who insisted on asking the exact same question every time you walked into the kitchen.

    It was exhausting. Sitting down at the kitchen counter and reminiscing on the most-likely-awful day you had just charged through. You never lied about it – the only reason you were in the foster system, from the loose papers you had stolen and memorised from the offices when you were 5, was because your mother and father couldn’t handle a child genius.

  That was the label they had put on you in black and white ink, on official papers. Even at the age of five the words hurt. Reading about how you had crafted an entire doll house when you were three year olds, how you were speaking in full sentences by seven months, how your intelligence had scared off the people who were meant to be with you at all times.

   Today was no different.

   School was the same old, pointless array of regurgitated information that you saw as common sense. Your notebooks were filled with the same old, stupid doodles that were the only thing that kept you from collapsing from both boredom and the exhaustion that waking up at 6am brought upon you.

   You slump down against the counter after tossing your bag carelessly against the sofa that was littered with your foster-siblings own school work which he was clearly struggling to get through. Patrick hissed at you as your bag barely whizzed past his head, nearly knocking him out cold.

    “Teachers get so butthurt,” you find yourself mumbling, a loose reply to the question Ann-Marie had asked you. “I corrected Mr Blanchard on his spelling today and got deemed disrespectful. An absolute joke.”

   Ann-Marie sighs, placing a steaming cup of tea in front of you. You instinctively push it away, your brain already going through every single thing that the second-hand kettle would be pouring into your cup.

   “What did he say to you?” Ann-Marie asks.

   “He said I had no right to shout out in class and that my input was unnecessary. He then proceeded to give me a detention.”

   Ann-Marie sighs, letting go of the breath she was holding in. She was clearly expecting the final piece of your story – the detention. The detention which you seemed to be assigned every other day all because of the fact that you didn’t feel things in the way others did. Your sky-high IQ, your label of genius wasn’t all it was cut out to be – your emotional effort was way too low, meaning you very rarely knew when to bite your tongue and keep quiet. The idea of being scolded didn’t scare you like how it scared other kids, meaning you said whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted and would only react whenever the punishment was given to you.

    “What time do I have to pick you up at?” Ann-Marie asks.

   “I don’t plan on going, Ann-Marie. It’s was unfairly given to me by-“

   “I’m telling Mr Blanchard you said that!” Patrick wails from behind you. You turn in your chair, eyebrow raised as you look at the boy behind you – half your age yet he still managed to be the only one who could grind your gears in the way he did.

   “You can tell Mr Blanchard all you want – I won’t be there to see his facial expression.”

   Ann-Marie grumbles, grabbing your arm to snap your attention back to her. You turn back around in your stool, take a handful of grapes from the fruit bowl and proceed to pop them in your mouth one by one.

   “You’re going whether you like it or not. The only way we’re gonna break the surface with you is if you see what the punishments are really like.”

   You raise your brow, speaking through a mouthful of grapes. “Break the surface? Ann-Marie, my own parents couldn’t handle me whenever I was an infant. There’s no way a detention is going to suddenly boost my EQ levels.”

   “What are EQ levels?”

   “Be quiet, Patrick.”

   Ann-Marie shakes her head at you, her beady blue eyes glaring directly into yours in the way they always did whenever she was giving you a warning. You simply shrug, leaning back against the stool, wanting nothing more than to just get up and leave. Being around people brought up your lack of emotions. It exposed you against your own will, and the only way to soothe it was by being on your own.

   You wanted to be on your own.

    “You’re going,” Ann-Marie repeats, more stern this time. “I’ll call up the school and find out what I need to find out, and then you’re going to sit through that entire detention whether I have to handcuff you to that chair.”

    “That’s actually a form of hostage capture and-“

    “Y/N!” Ann-Marie hisses. “Enough. Now, go upstairs and get out of those clothes. Dinner will be in an hour.”

     If I break out of her grip in exactly five seconds, and run by lunging, I could be out the exit door in no time.

    Ann-Marie yanks your arm, silencing your overactive thoughts as she drags you through the hallways of the high school you were sure you had escaped for at least another two days whenever you had left on Friday.

   And yet here you were – trapped in the confines of your foster-mothers arms, wading through the empty halls whilst the teachers smile at you as they pass, pretending they didn’t make your life a living hell. They had Ann-Marie fooled. You could tell by the way she chirped up every now and then, commenting on how, “Polite these people are!”

   It made you sick, quite frankly.

   “You know they’re only smiling because you’re the one keeping their bills paid, right?” you comment, not bothering to lower your voice.

   Ann-Marie groans, tugging on your arm again. “This is what I mean, Y/N. You have absolutely no filter.”

    “I didn’t tell you that you yanking on my arm is only making me stumble even more, so I think I’m improving. Can we go home now?”

   Ann-Marie doesn’t even reply as she turns the corner, coming face-to-face with Mr Blanchards ICT room. The computers line the wall, none of them on bar the big monitor that sits high and proud on Mr Blanchards desk.

   You scowl upon seeing his small head popping above it, him immediately flashing a large grin at Ann-Marie who gives it right back. He even has the nerve to smile at you – you simply roll your eyes, folding your arms and leaning against the door.

    You would never understand people who did that. Could change personalities completely within the space of two seconds, all depending on who they were talking to. Perhaps it was your low emotional levels, but you treated everybody the same. It was just how you worked.

    Ann-Marie and Mr Blanchard spoke for a good few minutes before Mr Blanchard finally turns to you and asks you to take a seat. You grumble out a, “Thank you, good sir,” before stowing off to one of the desks in the centre of the room. You set your bag down, pull out your notebook and get to doodling – just like you did every lesson.

    You had been caught most times. The teachers always noticed the way your pen moved back and forth at a fast pace, a clear indication that you were colouring rather than actually writing. You took great pleasure in showing them the notes you had already jotted down from nothing but memory. Their faces would turn blank and they would hand to you their favourite comment they used on every smart kid:

   “Your notes can’t be correct if you jotted them down so fast.”

   You didn’t mind. You got even more pleasure as you watched them read over your notes to see that they were even more detailed than the ones they had written on the board. You had even gone as far as to provide detailed examples, and continue on with the topic long before the teacher had a chance to teach you the criteria.

    Clearly, though, not all teachers appreciated having somebody smarter than them in their class. It belittled them.

    The clock ticks by with you subconsciously counting the milliseconds, just like you always did. An hour of silence between you and the teacher was enough to make you feel like you were going mad –

   But that silence was abruptly cut off at exactly 3:27pm. You had counted.

   The door to the room swings open, and even Mr Blanchard shoots upright in shock at the sudden disturbance. You had noticed a shift in his demeanour at around 3:20pm, with him continuously looking at the clock, pouting to himself before looking back down at the paper work on his desk.

   Apparently the boy in red who was currently wading into the classroom was the reason behind Mr Blanchard’s confusion.

   “Keith,” Mr Blanchard exclaims, standing up almost immediately. “You’re late once again.”

   Keith.

  You nearly gape as you look at the student in front of you – in your year, you knew. He had been the end of rumours for months now. Keith Kogane, photography student, good boy gone bad for a reason unknown.

   You had avoided him at all costs, not seeing the point in wasting time on a friendship with somebody who would clearly do nothing but drag you down this school year. You had even gone as far as dropping photography club – a class and a profession which Keith Kogane was known for.

   Taking pictures was his specialty, and he didn’t hide that fact. His camera hangs limply around his neck even now, even though it’s off and there’s hardly anything to capture in this dimly-lit room with simply computer monitors around the place. His black hair is ruffled messily in the back and slicked neatly in the front, his red jacket stained with a yellow sauce you can tell is mustard.

   Had he stopped at the cafeteria before he got here?

  “Sorry,” Keith utters in response, and you’re surprised at the lack of hostility in the apology. He almost sounds genuine.

  Mr Blanchard’s eyes soften as Keith ducks his head down, kicking the door shut behind him and stepping into the room. You watch him closely as he takes a seat at the desk opposite you, immediately putting his head back down, his nimble fingers delicately holding his camera.

   Mr Blanchard opens and closes his mouth for a moment, clearly wandering what to say to this boy who was so well-known amongst the school and yet he walked alone through most of the day. You had only ever seen him with people during lunch hours. After that, he disappears into whatever corner of the school he finds most aesthetic to lose himself amongst pointless pixels.

   Eventually, the teacher gives up, shakes his head and exits the room completely. Not before giving you a stern look of warning which you give back just as sternly – and then the door has shut behind him and the only two people in the room are you and Keith, alone.

   In silence.

   Your eyes never leave him. You sit, leaned back against your chair with your eyes focused on him, unable to focus on anything else. He just seems to strange. So far from what you expected him to be. You expected him to be like a rabid bull walking into detention – kicking chairs over and yelling about how Mr Blanchard isn’t his father and he can’t tell him what to do and spraying every curse word under the sun like profanity was his second language.

    But here he was in front of you now, eyes never leaving the small screen on his camera. The only noise in the room is the consistent beeping noise which comes from the device as he flicks through the photos he’s looking at. He seems so intrigued by them, and you find yourself half tempted to ask him what he’s doing.

   But that wasn’t you, was it? You didn’t care about what Keith Kogane was doing. Just because he surprised you this one time doesn’t mean you should jeopardize your school career by getting involved with him and whatever bad luggage he brought with him.

    You slide down further in your chair, pulling your hood on up over your head and deciding to lose yourself counting the tick of the clock again.

   Twenty minutes. Thirty seven seconds. Ten milliseconds.

  The time would pass by easily. It had to. You had your doodles here with you, an overactive brain to keep you company. Science and maths was a lot better company than the man sitting across from you.

    Nineteen minutes. Fifty five seconds. Fifteen milliseconds.

  You could ignore him just fine. The fact that he was currently breathing extremely heavily was nothing for you to care about. You had never spoken two words to him before. He was nothing to you.

   Nineteen minutes. Fourty six seconds.

  There was no reason for you to want to know more about him. No reason for you to ask him about the rumours that went around, inquiry him about how he had gone from a straight A student to somebody who very rarely even showed up to class.

    Eighteen seconds. Fifty seven seconds. 12-

  “Son of a bitch!”

   You nearly yelp, your eyes darting up from your lap to click onto the pair of brown ones which are currently flying around the room in a frantic search for whatever the boy had just dropped.

    You had heard the clatter but it hadn’t startled you as much as Keith’s voice had.

   You straighten up in your chair, letting your hood slip off of your head as you do. Keith barely acknowledges your existence as he roughly pushes a chair out of his way so he can duck under the table.

   “What are you doing?” you find yourself asking.

   Keith doesn’t look up. He doesn’t even reply to you. He simply keeps cursing lowly under his breath, his hands feeling up the floor.

    You stand up slowly, looking over the top of the round table you’re sat at. “Did you drop something?”

    “No, I’m just crouching on the floor because my arse got tired sitting down,” Keith shoots back. He looks up at you, rolls his eyes as if you were the stupidest human being on the planet. “What are you even doing here anyway?”

    You raise a brow, shocked and intriguied by this sudden change of attitude. You couldn’t help but chuckle at yourself – how you had thought for one minute that maybe the rumours were all false was beyond you. With an IQ of 160, you thought you’d have caught on by now that high school rumours held a lot more tact that TV gave them credit for.

    “I’m in detention too, smart ass,” you reply. “That’s usually the reason why students look miserable whenever they’re forced into school on weekends.”

   Keith rolls his eyes, letting out a small scoff at the corner of his mouth before he goes back to searching for the mysterious object he had dropped.

    You aren’t entirely sure what to do or say afterwards. Do you help him look? It seems, morally, like the correct thing to do, but your lack of said morals was hard to fight against. He had treated you like shit for no reason, so you would do the exact same thing to him and not regret it.

    You fall back against your chair, fold your arms over your chest and quietly hum to yourself, letting your head swing back to look up at the ceiling. You can feel Keith’s eyes glaring at you as you hum, clearly getting irked by the small noise you’re making – that was your plan. You knew how the human brain worked. You had known how the human brain worked since you were 7 years old. Little noises that you had to strain to hear were what your brain was attracted to. Your brain wants to pick up on the small noises, even if you aren’t entirely keen on trying to listen to them.

    You had lowered your voice to just that perfect level, knowing full well it would drive Keith mad.

    And it had, apparently.

    Keith slams his hand against the floor, shooting out from under the table with tired and annoyed looking eyes. You smile at him, stopping your humming for a moment.

    “Can you be quiet? This hour is already gonna drag for me, and you’re really not making it any better.”

   You shrug loosely. His comments did nothing to you. “I’m not here to make your hour any better. In fact, I think detention is the only place where it’s acceptable to make a persons life hell.”

    Keith’s eye twitches. “Are you serious?”

   You smile, nodding.

   Keith shakes his head, hollowing out his cheeks. “You don’t happen to be the child genius chick everybody goes on about, are you?”

    Your smile fades, a twisting feeling pinching the inside of your gut at the two words which shouldn’t have gone together. They crossed his lips so easily – he didn’t even seem shocked, and yet the two words brought back memories that you had forced down over the past few years.

   You cough and look away, suddenly feeling uneasy. “I don’t-“

   “IQ of 160 or something like that,” Keith continues. “God, you must feel some sense of superiority in this hell hole, don’t you? Smarter even than good ol’ Mr Blanchard.

   “His IQ isn’t difficult to challenge.”

    Keith scoffs. “I can tell. The old bastard caught me taking pictures of the tree outside his room and put me in detention for it. What a stupid reason, huh?”

    “I’d rather not talk about my intelligence, thank you. It’s quite a – uh – personal thing.”  

   Keith raises a brow as he lifts himself up off the floor. He wipes the dirt off of his black jeans, never taking his eyes off of you and suddenly it feels like the tables have turned. All because he had brought up the one thing you wanted people to forget about you – you were a certified genius. You had an IQ that was higher than anybodies this school had ever seen, and you couldn’t help it. Your brain had been overstimulated from a very, very young age and now you were forced to deal with the repercussions – trust issues, questions, teachers who despised you for the soul reason of you being smarter than them.

    You hated talking about it when you didn’t need to. Talking to people in general was a hard enough task for somebody who had zero emotional quota. Talking to them about the one thing that was enough to trigger something inside of you was even harder.

    “I go to school with you,” Keith says once he has stood up fully. You notice how he holds his camera protectively against his stomach as he speaks to you – a mark of denial. Perhaps he had some anxiety hidden beneath the tough-boy surface. “Surely knowing about your intelligence comes with the package of being a student with you.”

    “We don’t have classes together,” you point out. “Nothing but ICT and biology, and it’s very rare you even show up to those.”

    There goes that filter again, Y/N.

    You try to cover it up as quickly as you can. “But I suppose I shouldn’t be the one to talk. I’m not usually very vocal during lessons.”

   “Bullshit!” Keith nearly yells, startling you. “You’re constantly putting teachers in their place, aren’t you? I heard from my friend Pidge that you corrected Mrs Leech during one of her maths lessons once and you basically took over the class. That’s not something somebody with social issues does.”

    “I don’t have social issues as much as I have a low emotional quota.”

    “Please translate.”

   You can already feel the conversation gnawing away at your brain, an urge to put a stop to it taking over all over again.

     “It’s medical, so it’s none of your business.”

    Keith frowns, his fingers twitching against the buttons on his camera. Another marker of shock – was he surprised at your defiance?

    “Medical? Surely if it was medical, the teachers would have to let it slide. Yet here you are – in detention.”

   He made a good point. You lower your head to the desk again, tossing your hood on over your bed-head which you had arrived with this afternoon.

    “If you don’t tell me what all of that means, I’ll just look it up for myself and figure it out on my own. Do you want me to be misinformed?” Keith questions.

    You groan. “I don’t even know you.”

    “That’s why we’re talking. We’re getting to know each other.” You hear the screech of a chair against the floor – all too close for your liking. You look up from the confines your arms had made for your head to rest upon, eyes meeting with Keith’s almost immediately.

   He had pulled a chair out to sit next to you – next to you. Usually, such an action wouldn’t bother you. You were always too lost in your own brain or too monotone that day to even care if somebody wanted to sit next to you. But there was something about Keith and the way he looked at you and the rumours that spiralled around his very existence that had you feeling even mildly uncomfortable.

    “I don’t usually talk to people, you know,” he continues. “You’d have noticed that when I walked in. People – they aren’t my strong suit – but I love a good interesting person. A person who can keep me entertained with whatever shit they want to talk about.”

     “My intelligence is mine, Keith. I don’t need to talk to you about it if I don’t want to.”

    “That’s right. But as I said, I do plan on just searching this all up and figuring you out for myself. You’ve been a mystery in this school for years.”

    Your eyebrow twitches in confusion. “What do you mean?”

    “People wanna know about you. The infamous child genius-“

   “Stop calling me that. I’m 17 years old.”

   “The infamous teenage genius, then-“

   You can’t help yourself. Before you can think rationally, you’ve slammed your hand against the table, silencing Keith. His mouth immediately zooms to a thin line, flinching back in his own chair as his social personality suddenly seems to melt off of him, replaced by the angsty kid who had walked in this room in the first place.

    But you were far from calm anymore. You were angry, the words that Keith spoke zooming around in your head at one hundred miles an hour, because they were the words you had grown up hearing in whispered voices down the hall of the foster home, people talking about how your parents couldn’t cope with the genius. Nobody could cope with the genius. Ego’s were being hurt left right and centre and the human race was far too stuck up to let that happen.

   Children aren’t meant to develop this quickly. Maybe she’s sick.

  Maybe she has a photographic memory. I heard that can ruin lives.

  They were right. But what ruined lives even more was whenever people diagnosed you with every illness under the sun instead of taking into consideration that maybe, just maybe, you were more than your god damn intelligence. You were more than your grades, or your above average test score, or your early acceptance to Harvard.

    You were sick and tired of hearing people label you genius like you were some animal in the zoo.

   Oh look! There’s the genius!

  Oh, hey! There’s the genius!

  The word made you sick, and hearing Keith say it over and over again without knowing just what it did to you was enough to make even you, an emotionless human being, snap.

    “Can you just be quiet?” you nearly yell. “This hour has been long enough without you nagging in my ear. I don’t even know who you are! So if you could please shut your mouth, it would be very much appreciated. Go take pictures of the scenery or something – just leave me out of it.”

   You gather up your school bag, slinging it over your shoulder before walking over to the far table, slumping down against the desk and ducking your head in your hands. This certainly wasn’t normal for you – you had a hard enough job of hacking into your emotions, let alone having somebody else do it for you.

    But that word brought up memories. It made you remember all those years that that was all you were to people – smart. Too smart for your age, they often said. They belittled you because you were too smart, and they would do the exact same thing if you were stupid. You had to find a good balance, and the rules annoyed you.

    Keith annoyed you.

   The world annoyed you.

   You just weren’t very good at processing that emotion.

     Never before had you been so aware in a class before.

   Usually, you only pulled yourself out of bed and to the classroom for the attendance record. If you’re attendance dropped below 65%, Ann-Marie would be getting a phone call home asking where I was. Which was why you even bothered.

    You put very little effort into the classes you attended – you didn’t need to. Sure, some were better than others. You were incredible at the sciences and maths, and needed a little brushing up when it came to technology and practical subjects, but you were good enough to keep up fairly good grades in all the classes you took.

    Biology was usually a breeze. You simply sat back and let the teacher ramble on and on about things you already knew – things you had known since you were 3 – and you jotted down any useful information every now and then. But most of the lesson was spent counting the ticking clock and doodling on the front of your notebooks at the back of the classroom.

    Today was different, though, because suddenly you were hyperaware of the man sitting two rows in front of you – black hair, red jacket, camera set at his side amongst his other assortment of class belongings.

     Keith had never sat so close to you before. He either didn’t show up to class, or he sat at the very front in the corner, by the window, where he would spend the lesson gazing out at the scenery. You often saw him after class, sprinting his way down the hallway because he had spent the biology lesson so inspired by the plants outside.

   You would never understand that side of things. Biology was a lot more important than photography, and yet he insisted on throwing the subject away for something that would only get him so far in life.

    But today he had showed up to class earlier than usual – still late, but earlier – and had taken the seat two rows in front of you. His eyes hadn’t drifted to the outside world once, and he instead was focusing firmly on the board in front of him.

   There had to be a bigger motive towards his actions. If six years of high school with Keith Kogane taught you anything, it was that he didn’t just change seats. You had seen him get in multiple fights with people just because he had walked in to see them sitting in his preferred seat.

    This was so unlike him, and you could only link up his strange behaviour to the conversation the two of you had had in detention the previous day.

     “Has anybody got any questions before I get into explaining the project?” the teacher, Miss Shaw, asks from the front of the classroom.

    Your jaw slackens whenever Keith’s hand goes up almost immediately.

   He never spoke out in class. Even a few of the students around you stare at him in mild shock, clearly bewildered as to what he has to say.

    “Yes, Mr Kogane?” Miss Shaw calls forward.

   Keith shuffles upwards in his seat, messing with his camera – an anxiety marker. The man clearly had some social anxiety within him.

    “Miss, I know this really has nothing to do with what we’re learning about, but I just want to know more about something I was researching yesterday,” Keith begins, and your entire stomach falls. “What does it mean if someone has a low emotional quota?”

   Miss Shaw raises her brow, pulling her glasses off of the bridge of her nose to look at Keith properly. She leans one hand against her wooden desk, veins popping out of her wrinkled arms as a small smile finds its way onto her cheeks.

    “Well, that is definitely more a question for your psychology teacher, but the basics around a low emotional quota means that the person struggles to feel emotions correctly. They often speak out of turn because they don’t care about consequences, or they struggle to form bonds with people because they don’t care about social life or other people.” Miss Shaw nods. Keith shuffles in his seat. You want to scream. “It’s certainly not the type of life you’d want to be living, Mr Kogane.”

   Keith nods. “And what are the characteristics of a person with a low EQ?”

    “Well, somebody who’s been abandoned in their life, somebody with trust issues, somebody who feels a little less than everybody else.”

    “Somebody with a high IQ?” Keith suggests, and that’s when Miss Shaw’s eyes spark up to meet yours, her suddenly catching on to what Keith is saying.

   But her smile doesn’t fade. In fact, it seems to only get brighter. She knows full well about your high IQ. Every teacher in the school knows about it. You were the student they didn’t know what to do with.

    “Correct,” Miss Shaw finalises, before shaking her head. She’s still smiling. She must think your public embarrassment is a joke – or maybe she thinks you don’t care. You certainly hadn’t given her any reason to care about your well being over the past few years she had been teaching you. Her lack of emotion towards you was equal to your lack of emotion towards life.

    She drops the subject, even if she is still smiling to herself. You let your eyes burn holes in the back of Keith’s head, hands clenching at your sides in an attempt to calm yourself down.

    Deep breaths.

  “Anyway, now that that is out of the way,” Miss Shaw continues. “I’m gonna read out the partners for the research project you guys will be doing for me this week and going on until the deadline. Please listen for your name.”

    You can’t listen. You’re trying to grab onto any and every way possible to calm yourself down, but you were so unused to this feeling of overwhelming anger that you had never needed to calm yourself down. You were so used to feeling absolutely numb that this need to grasp onto reality was rare for you, and you didn’t quite know how to do it.

    You zoned in on the ticking of the clock. Attempted to. Miss Shaw’s voice rang out over the top of it, making it incredible difficult for you to even catch a glimpse of the noise. The patterns were gone. Your brain was running haywire.

    And then-

   “Keith Kogane and Y/N L/N. You two will be doing a research project together on the animal kingdom.”

   Keith spins around in his seat, a large smile pulling at his lips that he attempts to hide from the view of the other students by pulling his hood around his head.

    You suddenly wish you hadn’t shown up to class that day.