#to be honest ! did not think i would like this section of the class so much. but el licenciado vidriera; amar sólo por vencer; and la vida

[narratorstragedy]

i need a friend to be insane about golden age spanish literature with

[twilghtkoo]

pairings. jungkook x bookworm!reader (f)

genre/aus. fluff, established relationship

warnings. the word smut gets mentioned, jk in that fit

note. i’m a huge book lover and have been busy consuming all romance books in my free time and one part of my brain is just jungkook and another part is filled with all the romantic scenes that happen in the books i read and this idea came up :D lmk if u want more jk x bookworm!reader drabbles i actually loved writing this one so enjoy my brain rot,, likes and reblogs are appreciated ! stay safe <3

[ masterlist ]

—

“how’d you find this place, we’ve never been in this one.” jungkook notes, observes the surroundings of the small book store you both entered. floor to ceiling shelves filled with literature and writing of every genre, in different colors and sizes. warm yellow lighting from the lights in the ceiling and the battery operated candles that are placed randomly throughout the store. there’s greenery scattered along the walls and potted plants on the floor and one next to the register, creating a familiar, welcoming environment.

you can’t help but smile when you walk in. “i took a different route home from class last week and saw this place. i wanted to wait to go with you.” you answer, greeting the woman behind the counter with a soft smile.

you feel his hand blindly reach for yours from behind, you first find his pinky then interlace your fingers with his.

“it feels homey in here.” he thinks aloud, as both of you walk by a red worn out couch.

you lead him through the aisles one by one, not having any interest in the specific genres besides your favorite, but looking at the filled shelves brings you comfort.

“oh! they have comics here.” he points to the aisle across from you and now he’s taking the lead.

a comforting silence falls between you both as you skim through each shelf organized by the marvel universe, dc comics, video games and manga. from the corner of your eye, you see jungkook holding a manga in his hand.

“when was the last time you read one?”

he sighs, “i think when i was young, probably about six years ago to be honest. i don’t really have time now.” he slightly pouts at his statement.

you place your hand on his lower back before rubbing soothing circles. “i know you’ve read that one before. haikyuu,” you read the title out loud.

he nods, closing the book and placing it back with the others. “yeah i read like the first few volumes but never finished it.”

you both look throughout the manga selection some more before you manage to talk him into buying at least two volumes of jujutsu kaisen.

he holds the two books in one hand and holds your hand in his other.

you make it to the romance aisle, and immediately take your time looking around. you always feel overwhelmed in the bookstore and feel like you’re taking too long looking in just one section but jungkook always assures you to take your time and look, that he’s not in a rush.

you pick up a book and examine the cover and pages before reading the back, humming to yourself if one peaked your interest but not enough to hold onto it.

“do these have smut in them?” he blurts out next to you.

your eyes go big and you smack him on the arm. you look at the bright neon green sticky note that’s taped to the shelf with the word ‘spicy’. did they have to make it known to the world?

“would you be quiet?” you whisper-yell at him, trying to contain your laughter.

he rubs his arm where you hit him as his eyes blink innocently. liar.

he lets go of his arm and giggles, pulling you close to his side and kisses the crown of your head. “just messing with you.” he smirks.

you scoff, pushing him away lightly but failing because your boyfriend is 5’10 and muscles.

he lets you continue to look around and he does the same but not with a purpose. but he knows if he pretends to busy himself, you won’t feel rushed. and he wants you to take your time.

by the time you reached the end of the romance aisle, you’re holding two books in your hands. one hardcover and one paperback.

“that’s it? only two books you found?” jungkook stares in disbelief, his eyebrow arched.

“a hardcover is expensive.” you tell him. there were other books you found and wanted, but now that you know this place is here, you’ll stop by again one of these days after class and come back for them if they’re still here.

“babe, go get all the books you want.” he waves you off, but you stay put.

shaking your head, “no, i’ll come back for them one of these days after my classes.”

“go get them now.”

“kook, it’s okay.”

“i know it is, but i want to get them for you anyway. you got a new bookcase with more shelves and you need to fill it up.” he says, peering down at you softly but he’s not giving up.

you did get a new shelf, with your paycheck you decided to spoil yourself and get a new one that had five shelves instead of your three. you had a growing collection and you had a tower of books on your floor. you needed a proper space for them.

you bite your lip. “yeah, but i don’t want you-“

he interrupts you by placing his lips on yours, moving against your lips for only two seconds.

the kiss was so abrupt that it had you in a daze.

“go get the books, hardcover or not. i don’t care yn.” he used your name. not babe or baby.

you sigh in defeat, knowing you lost this battle. jungkook offers to hold your books and you let him, you went back for the books you wanted and carefully stacked them onto his hands. it was only ten books you found, but the stack reached to his chest and you felt bad.

“don’t give me that look, baby.” he tells you as you both make your way up to the front to pay.

the lady’s eyes go wide at the tower of books in his hands, but doesn’t say nothing and scans everything.

you inch closer to his side as the lady tells him the total and it makes you gasp. but jungkook is relaxed as the lady asks if we wanted to sign up to become a member and he doesn’t even bother to ask me as he gives her my number for the future. he finishes by tapping his card onto the machine and grabbing the two bags of books.

you thank the lady and you both leave the store. the sky now different shades of blue, orange and red.

“thank you kook, i really appreciate you.” you tell him thoughtfully, sliding your arm through his and holding onto it. he glances down at you with a soft smile, his piercings shining under the sunset.

he hums. “i love you.”

“i love you.”

[decodedlvr]

~ never did this before | virgin!Eddie Munson x virgin! Thick!Fem Reader \\ modern au

This story is based off the song Wet Dreamz by Jcole **recommend listening to it first to understand the story// can be perceived/read regardless if you are a poc; as I am mixed ♡ [descriptions of reader having tan skin and brown eyes; so it meets in the middle if you are a poc or not]

• Summary: after weeks of flirting and crushing on each other, you finally pop a serious question into your bestfriend Eddie’s head, and he has a hard time providing you with an honest answer // this is more like a rom com

• Warnings: MDNI; smut (not too explicitly) fluff, both kinda experienced? soft Eddie, cocky Eddie, sassy reader, brief mentions of smoking and drinking, he’s a little bit of a perv, masturbation, 69, protected piv, premature ejaculation, heavy petting, grinding, confessions, slight insecure thoughts? (both are 18+) word count :3.4k //sry 4 errors

Eddie’s Pov

Calculus. The last class of the day. My favorite class overall.

There she sat, giggling on her phone, showing me silly photos she took of her dog Skittle, the sun shining just right on her honey toned tanned skin, hair laying just as perfect as ever in that simple, claw clip. Curls and wavy bangs sectioned to shape her face, brown eyes that matched mine and oh those glossy lips..

I wanna kiss you so fucking bad baby.

Her outfit of the day, that new pink and black checkered shirt she got at the mall that I drove her to.

It’s so tight on you sweetheart, your tits look beautiful today.

White Reeboks as I have, but very much cleaner…

Those 100% perfectly stretchy, acid wash jeans you wear every week that fit your ass so fucking bad.. fuck don’t bend over.. don’t—

“Eddie? what’s wrong with you?”

Fuck— didn’t realize the moan that I slipped out when she dropped her phone, she cracked it..but all I could focus on were the back of her thighs when she bent over

“Sorry uh- I think I’m just sore from carrying those amps last night”, he says now rubbing his not sore bicep with a pout

Lie.

“Oh babe I’m sorry, come by later and I can rub it out for you” she replies

Why the fuck would you say that to me right now—

“Oh yeah? You’d just love to get your hands on me always huh sweetheart? ” leaning back in my seat, with a cocky smile

You blush and shove my arm playfully “you’re so stupid, you know what I meant”

——

She’s been like this for the past month, after Harringtons party. Smoking and drinking under that patio umbrella, away from everyone else. Laughing, holding on to each other for dear life. I tell her jokes, she ugly laughs. I love her laugh, it’s not fake it’s genuine like her.

We met at the drink table, both preferring whiskey over the red shit they put out.

We talked about our intrests, I was very suprised and impressed with how she carried herself. How she talked about herself. How she sat comfortably on my lap; as if we knew each other for forever.

Obviously her thick hips in that royal blue, tacky dress she wore caught my attention first

It takes a certain kinda person to make me laugh but she.. she was probably the most funniest and beautiful fucking girl I’ve never seen. A few beauty marks as she would call it, scattered down her neck and arms. Eyelashes so dark she could always pass on the mascara, the sweet charm and sass she had to her.. she was something different.

She was fresh to town and it was relief to meet someone new. Similar childhood experiences, divorced parents but her dad stopped reaching out to them. Her mom was just a bitch to her. Very narcissistic person but, she had her kind moments. She definitely wasn’t the worse mother I’ve ever heard of.

All of that lead to a heavy make out session in the bathroom.

Sitting at the edge of the toilet, her scratching the back of my head with those sharp coffin shaped nails, me squeezing the fat of her ass on my lap. Hell, I was surprised how into this she was.. considering I’ve only kissed two girls in my life.

Sure I’ve watched my fair share of porn, visited sex stores, took a few notes; even got a handy under the bleachers last year from Carol. She forgot to pay for the weed I gave her, she offered, why not.

“Oh yeah, what’s your name again?” I ask kissing down her neck

“Y/N, but you can call me anything you want right now” she whimpers at the feeling of me nipping her throat

-“fuck you’re a r-really good kisser”

“-could say the same about you sweetheart” feeling the roll of her heat over my already strained dick.

I wonder how many guys she’s done this with

“Sorry, I don’t usually do this but, there’s just something so sexy about you”—

Biggest fucking ego boot ever.

“Fuck baby, if you keep talkin to me like that I’m gonna bust”

“Awe, am I making you feel some typa way Eddie?” She smirks looking down at me

“You know you are”

—

Unfortunately that ended quicker than it started, Robin got too hungover and needed our space.

She told me her classes and we exchanged numbers.

After that we talked everyday on FaceTime after getting home from school. I show her a new guitar riff and she shows me the new necklaces or shirts she ordered.

Sometimes she’d forget she was on camera and changed out of her bra a few times.

Hey, couldn’t help but to look come on, I am just a man

I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve fucked myself to that imagine every morning.. and evening and night..

Slept on the phone together, hung out at lunch together.

I only ever seen her at lunch other than at the end of the day in Mrs. Wilson’s calculus class. Bringing us back to now

——

“Mr. Munson are you done chatting now?” Wilson knocks me out of my trance

“Sorry bout that, yes ma’am” giving her a thumbs up sitting back up straight as she rolls her eyes subtly.

You slide me note. Folded up, in blue highlighted letters

You ever have sex before? Circle Yes or No ♡

fuck—we never even discuss stuff like that! how haven’t we? Don’t embarrass yourself man

Course I have, why? what’s got you so curious? ;)

I watch her look away quickly, gulping when she covers the paper to respond back

Well.. you’re cute and shit & was wondering if you wanna come over friday..? My parents have been gone all week and..we can hang or do whatever.. ♡

Did she wanna fuck? I hope so —wait you’re a virgin idiot, wait is she? probably not

I’m already there babe ;)

I reply with an easy smile, hiding the fact I’m in a state of panic

Good.. and uh bring those handcuffs on your wall too.. ♡

No way she’s a virgin talking like that

She rushes outta the classroom at the bell, turning back with a wink

Holy shit I gotta talk to Harrington.

“-and that’s what I’m saying dude, just sweet talk her, treat her like a princess, rub her in all the right places”—

“Okay but what ARE those places? I know her like tits and shit.. and well under her panties but what does it feel like? Ya know putting in it? What if I cum too fast and she laughs or runs away and never talks to me again..”—

I’ve been pacing back in forth in Family Video, loud where all the customers could hear. Definitely loud enough for Robin to upchuck her lunch

“No Eddie- just, come back here— Rob? watch the front please?” Steve grabs me by the shoulder making a bee line to the stock room

Sitting on the empty table still trying to gather my thoughts of Steve’s advice. “Well?” I rush out

“Damn man let me sit down first” he scoffs pulling a chair over to me

“Alright, you wanna know what inside a vagina feels like right?”

“Jesus, can you just say pussy or some shit”

“Same thing” he glared

“Okay well it’s not really sexy to just say vagina-

-“god Eddie, do you wanna know or not?” I can tell I’m testing his patience, I shut my lips, nodding eagerly

“Okay, so It’s like this- well like wet and really, really warm, almost like hot bath around your dick or a tight hug”—

“Wow, a hot bath thanks for the analogy Steve, I’ll make sure to take one when I get home”

He deadpans at me. “You asked me and I’m telling you, it’s hard to really explain other than a tight, wet warm hug. Oh!” he snaps his finger”-and sometimes it’ll tighten around your cock when she’s about to cum and holy shit dude— you better hold your load because the first time I had sex, it lasted about 10 seconds” My eyes widen

“WHAT!?” I shout before him shushing me “King Steve was a minute man?”— I joke

“Hey I said at first, when you get used to having sex your stamina gets better and for me personally”— he leans in “I can last approximately 45 minutes and 27 seconds” he sits back proudly

Cocky bastard.

Shit.

How long will I last? Will jerking off more boost my stamina?

——

Since that afternoon I did as much research as a I could, making a DIY sponge fleshlight.

That was a fail, got carpet burn.

Even bought condoms from the corner store, didnt know what size i was so, i grabbed all 4 boxes

Practicing my stroke game, using my pillow as a hole.

Down. Glide. Up. Down. Guide up.

Ow, fuck, cramp, cramp

This shits hard. My back hurts.

Throwing away the 8th used condom of the day, tossing myself in my desk chair, forehead sweaty, wrists throbbing; hearing my phone go off

FaceTime from Crush🖤

“Ah, fuck”— grabbing a shirt, wiping off the excess sweat off my skin, putting my pants back on, setting the phone up on my night stand, grabbing the guitar quickly setting it on my lap— “Hey! Sweetheart, what’s up, what are you up to?”

“I could ask you the same thing why is your face so red?” She asks giggling, laying on her tummy, tits spilling out , kicking her socked feet from behind

“Just took a hot shower is all”

“But your hairs not wet?” you give me a suspicious look, “Oh yeah, I just tied it up..sooo still want me over tomorrow?”

“Hell yeah! I picked up cookie dough the edible kind because I know you like that anddddd”- she reaches over her phone to grab something—“I rented whole stab franchise for a throwback”- showing me her laptop screen

“Well, that sounds like a party to me”

“You got that right..” She replies, biting her lip as if I didn’t notice,- “Anywaysss, just calling to remind you, see you tomorrow im tired, goodnight dummy *mwah*

She always ends our calls with a kiss on screen

Fuck I’m hard again

“Can’t wait sweetheart, sweet dreams” ending the call, looking down at my bulge

Welp, gotta jerk off again

Friday. THE day I might lose my virginity to the sexiest girl in school. My best friend.

I wake up earlier than usual, do my morning ritual, a joint. My nerves making me shower twice.

Should I shave?

Would she care?

A little trim wouldn’t hurt

May or may have not nicked my balls. Not too bad, maybe she won’t notice. Finding my nicest pair of jet black jeans I own, I only wear ‘em for special occasions and a wife beater? Nah that’s too much right? A flannel would help. Yeah. Definitely.

Hey I look kinda good, checking myself out in the mirror

Alright, wallet, keys, condoms, I glance over at the cuffs on the wall. Can’t forget those, stuffing them in my back pocket

—

My palms are sweaty, fuck even my ass is sweating.. 3 cigarettes already in, on my way to her house; of course I have a bad fucking hair day today, so I just opted for a low bun.

Before I could even knock, you open the door my jaw already on the floor

“Hi dummy!” You jump giving me a hug, pulling me inside.

What the hell is she wearing

A transparent green knitted, cropped sweater

is that her nipple I see? Those goddamn Nike shorts are doing her a favor—“Someone’s excited to see me?” Kicking off my shoes

“I’m always excited to see you.. also nice hair”

and neck goddamn, what is hell is he wearing you think, already feeling horny from the sight of my neck being so exposed

those jeans are doing his fine ass a favor

fuck I’m wet already

“Come on, already got it all set up for us”

“Lead the way princess” following behind you

I need to bite those fuckin legs.

——

We always sit like this on movie nights. Me against your headboard, back against my chest. I don’t remember how it started but I love it.

“Didn’t David Arquette also play in Spree?”

I squint back at the tv, “Uh yeah yeah he did, he was Kurt’s dad I think”

She replies with a mouthful “omyeah”

My hands have been holding both sides of her hips the whole time, occasionally rubbing them with my thumbs; every time I do it your breath picks up

Something else is about to be up—

“Huh?”

“Did you even hear me? You’ve been zoning out a lot recently”, you say sitting crisscross

“Something on your mind Ed’s?”

Gulp

“No no just— “ sigh

“Yeah, you. You’ve been on my mind.”

She smiles looking down, cocking her head to the side

“Oh yeah? Been thinking about me have you?” She grins

“You have no idea. ”

My breath hitches when you straddle me

Fuck me

“Wanna tell me these thoughts you’ve been having?” she asks twirling a piece of my bang

Remember what Steve said, sweet talk her

“Why don’t I just show you pretty girl”

Her smirk instantly falls, cheeks crimson “shit.. okay”

Running my hand up your thighs firmly, wrapping my arm around your lower back, my free hand pulling your face closer into my lips. “Like that baby?”

Who the fuck are you she thinks

“Fuck, yeah kiss me again”, I stare blankly until my eyes turn to pure lust, pushing her down to her back climbing on top to ease my tongue back into her mouth, my hips grinding into yours, hearing you whimper…

You’d think that’d make me harder but it’s when you grind back into me that did it

“You’re so beautiful you know that baby?.. fuck been missing these lips for weeks..”

“Shit, me too, been needing you so close to my body recently it’s been killin me,” she whines, rubbing her hands down my chest

—“that’s why I asked you to come over, could tell you were feeling me too”

You’re right about that, I mumble sucking your neck,

I’ve practiced giving myself hickies on my arms freshmen year.

Eddie, score

“That tank top Eddie.. t-take off the flannel let me see you? Please?” You ask giving me doe eyes. I sit up eagerly throwing it about, she sits up on her elbows, throwing off her sweater

The goddamn groan I let out

Jesus Christ

You lie back down bashfully covering yourself

A whore being shy huh?

“Whattt? She asks feeling self conscious,

“You’re..fuck.. just let me get a closer look please?” I plead, you nod shyly

Squeezing your breasts hard in my palm, licking my lips, nipping them, kissing them, hearing you gasp “holy shit -

“What??”

I do it again, in combination with my tongue, She doesn’t stop me she moans, making me feel bolder, “ Lemme take these off?” My thumbs already ready to yank your shorts down

You don’t answer

“Hey, it’s just me you know you’re beautiful to me, right?”

“Yes..you can take em off” she whispers

Thinking it’d be hot to yank them down quick like those sex movies

I try it..

“Ow! Fuck what the hell?” She jerks

I didn’t know she had the goddamn drawstring tied. , “Ow..you pout rubbing your hip, “Shit I’m sorry! I’m sorry”

I’m already fucking up, “It’s okay.. it’s just tied” she says undoing them pulling them off herself, holding her hands in her lap

I lean down to kiss both hips as an apology, looking up at you slowly undoing your hands

Cute little hair she has

“Can I um..”

She looks down at me gaining back her confidence, “You wanna eat me don’t you?” My eyes widen, gripping her side, “Yesss.. really bad” but I don’t know how to —

“Can I see you too?” again with that lip bite

“Of course” okay.. here goes nothing whispering to myself , yanking my jeans and all down in one swift motion, staring at the spot on the ceiling

You scoff with the sour look, “Oh my god”

WHAT WHAT WHAT

“You’re packing Eddie”

“Oh..thank fuck, really? I wouldn’t say that but..” I sit back in front of her

“Can I touch it?” You ask still staring at my cock

-..But I wanna taste you.. what if we..you lay on me but backwards..? Like 69?” I recommend

She nods eagerly, nervously but very excited, “Okay.. just don’t look at my asshole.. there’s a spot on it that looks like I didn’t wipe but it’s not what you think! It’s a freckle..”, I chuckle, rubbing your cheek nodding

Laying down flat, you swing your legs over my face

Oh god fuck, “Such a pretty pussy” i mumble

Suck a pretty cock you think

You’re both horny as fuck, both licking on each other immediately —“Jesus fuck!” I shout, hearing and feeling you choke on my dick

“Y/n, y-you done this before?”

“Yeah—“

Damnit.

-“But it was with a guy at my old school, said I was the best head he ever had” , you say rubbing my balls

Hot.

Okay Eddie do what feels right

so that’s the clit? how cute

Bringing my lips around your nub, licking you, tasting you, “Oh god why do you taste so good, you smell so..sweet?”

“Was that a question?” You ask popping my dick outta your mouth

“No, no just the sweetest pussy I’ve never tasted”-

the only pussy I’ve ever tasted

I’ve never smelt anything like this, I think I’m addicted

Flicking my tongue a few time feeling you react in a high pitched moan, sucking and massaging it lightly, my eyes flutter spotting your ass hole winking at me

“Holy shit” she’s pretty everywhere

“What?”

“You have such a pretty ass” blurting out

“Eddie! I told you not to look!” She whines trying to climb off, “Shut up I do what I want”saying firmly, pulling you back down by your thighs; sticking my pointer finger in your cunt,

so that’s the squeeze Steve was talking about

“Ohmyg— fuckk yes please” she vibrates around me, a guttural moan purging from my throat, curling my finger like they said —

“Oh! Fuck yes keep doing that Eddie baby please”—

“I am, I am baby you just suck my dick”—

Holy shit who am I—

“-Eddie I think I’m gonna cum yep, I’m gonna cum..”—

“Wait really?”

“Yes!”

“Really?” Asking again “YES EDDIE SHUT UP AND KEEP GOING, FUCK”—

Thrusting faster, licking faster I feel your wetness roll down and down into my mouth instantly making me cum in yours

“Fuck baby like that, fuck did you..just swallow?—“ I ask but you proceed to keep sucking-“OKAY OKAY, stop, s-shit!”

Pleading trying to stop you from overstimulating me further, “Shit.. sweetheart, that dude was right, that was the best head I’ve ever got”

The only head I’ve ever got

She lays back down beside me with a large grin,” Was that your first time getting head? You came so fast for me”

Lie.

Not replying I get up, finding the condom in my Jean pocket, “What’re ya doing?” You ask with a questioned expression, “Condom?” I hold up “Oh, oh yeah yeah right duh”—

Fuck I forgot with which way it goes on— got it

Turning back to you, cock still hard, nudging your core

You give me a small smile, watching me hesitantly about to slip my tip in

“Wait! Wait!”-

“What? Sorry, I didn’t ask”—

“Eddie I need to tell you something..”

“Yeah?”

“I can tell you definitely know what you’re doing but I just.. be gentle because I’ve never done this before..”

never done this before, never done this before

I stare like a deer in headlights, the weight off my shoulders lifted. I laugh sarcastically to myself , “That’s, well.. I should probably tell you I’ve never done it either.. like ima”—

“Virgin too?”

“Yeah, surprise?” feeling embarrassed, “How did I not know that? We tell each other everything” shrugging, “Not sure, but I’m glad you told me before I stuck ya”

“Ew don’t say stuck me weirdo”

“Look, I don’t know what I’m doing at all, I had to ask Steve for advice.. I figured you would know more I mean since you wanted my handcuffs”-, you bite your lip, head shaking

“I said that because, I figured you’d know how to use em”

“There actually just for decoration sweetheart, looked kinda metal”, we laugh in awe with each other , “But here we are..” I say biting the skin on my lip—

“Yeah here we are” you look back up at me, hopeful, “Do you wanna stop?”

“No..do you wanna stop?”

“Nah, been hoping you’d be my first actually”, you blush at my statement pulling me down for a deep kiss , “Let’s do it..”

“..but what if I cum too fast? that would be humiliating”—

- “I understand how it works.. don’t feel bad if you do, I promise I won’t laugh Ed’s” she squeezes my hand lovingly

My heart is erect

I nod, looking over all of you again, spreading your thighs a little wider, “I’ll go slow”

Furrowing my brows in consentration, slipping my tip in, surprisingly not easy mother fuck—

“Holy fuck you’re so-

“Tight? I know I have a hard time fingering my self as is”

“Why would you tell me that at this very second,” I try not to laugh, holding my shit together, “that’s so hot by the way,” bottoming you out, we gasp in sync

“Oh god”-

“What?”

“Holy god”—

“What!?? You alright?” She asks , “I’m about to cum already”—

“I told you, it’s okay”

“I know but that’s so embarrassing”

You clench around me on purpose, suddenly your eyes widen, feeling a warmth from inside, while also hearing me grunt almost in pain above you

Silence.

“Im so sorry fuck,” pulling out, shocked at how full my condom is, “Did you cum?”, she scrunches her nose, “No silly”

“But you squeezed me?”

“Yeah but, I didn’t have an orgasm”

Fucking Steve

-“But Steve said when a girl cums she clenchs around us” explaining further—

“First off, I’m gonna need you to not take advice from Steve and second, I mean according to my girlfriends we do.. it’s like a few squeezes but apparently we really squeeze for a long time when we do cum? Maybe even shake? I’m not sure but I think I’d know when I felt it”

Well shit

He looks like a sad puppy this won’t do you think

“But hey, we can try again right? Don’t be embarrassed if anything it’s kinda hot”

“Really?”

“I mean yeah, I made you cum in under like 1 second, biggest ego boot ever” you lighten the mood, nudging my shoulder smiling at me, pulling me for another kiss, “Don’t ever tell anyone that” holding my forehead to yours

You smirk, holding your pinky up “I promise”, Interlocking mine, noticing your body shifted closer, staring at your lips, “Let me try again Sweetheart” your eyes also on mine, nodding, crawling back to you, chasing your touch, taking each others breath—

Was that a car door??

“Is someone here?”

“Honey we’re home!”

FUCK, not now!!

(again recommend you listen to Wet dreamz by Jcole; it’s a bop)

reblogs appreciated // this was fun. let me know your thoughts? I do realize the smut was kinda rushed? Should there be a part 2? Suggestions? Comments? Feel like I should have kept going for them to restart again but I dunno🤷🏽‍♀️

[hwaslayer]

project: make you love me (jyh) | sixteen.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 3.6k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, seonghwa, physical fighting, mingi calling his friend out on his stupidity, crying, sorry if i missed anything.. quickly edited this lol, yunho is just mad and overwhelmed with his feelings rn 😭

yunho: baby

yunho: wait at the science building later, please? i'll come get you so we can walk to my car together

you: okee ☺️

yunho: ☺️ see you later? enjoy the rest of your classes

you: you too, my bighead!

Yunho smiles at his phone before tucking it away, slowly following Yeosang to their group study session.

"Should I even ask why you're smiling like that?" Yunho looks up at Yeosang and chuckles.

"Just Y/N."

"Of course. Is she in class?"

"Yup. She's in the back row being all distracted."

"Perfect way to pass time in my honest opinion." Yeo clears his throat. "I've been meaning to ask you out of curiosity."

"What's up?"

"Have you guys told each other 'I love you' and everything?" 

"Mm, no. Not yet at least."

"Not yet?" Yeosang smiles. "You feel that way for her, don't you?"

"I do. I just.. I don't know? I don't know if it's too soon. What if I scare her off?"

"Nah, doubt that. You can't put a timer on these things."

"True. Plus, it sounds cliché and like it's out of a movie, but I truly wanna wait 'till it feels right to say it to her."

"That makes sense."

"Trust me, I really do feel that way for her." He lets out a breath as they look towards the library building, the sun from behind slightly blinding them as they approach the doors. "She has literally become my bestfriend. It's crazy how life works."

"I know. I remember when you first told me you were helping her out for literature." Yeosang chuckles. "Or when you'd save her in the back lot."

"Still can't believe that was even real." Yunho does a tiny head tilt. "He's really something."

"What was up with Y/N's birthday thing? How did he even know?"

"I don't know. Word gets around fast. Why wouldn't Seonghwa know? Especially since it has to do with Y/N."

"Can't wait till the day he leaves you two alone. Must be fucking annoying to deal with."

"I try not to mind it. Though, I think he's been getting bolder lately and I can't put my finger on it."

"Has Y/N said anything?" He shakes his head.

"No. Maybe I'm just overthinking. She just seemed a little weird about him at her birthday party."

"Well, yeah. It's Seonghwa." Yeosang waves at their study group sitting at the far end of the library in the loud section.

"Yeah, but, I don't know. It was different. She seemed bothered about something but she hasn't told me anything. I assume it's not a big deal."

"Hm. Well, I'm sure it's not either. Just Seonghwa being himself, maybe."

"Mm, whatever though." Yunho greets the study group as they approach the table. "She's my girlfriend now, and that won't change." Yeosang gives him a small smile before they settle with the group and begin their long study session together.

"Remember, we have a test next class. Make sure you study everything I included in the study guide. Don't skip on anything just because you think it's a minor detail! Nothing is minor!" Your professor says before dismissing the class. You let out a sigh, already stressing over the next test. You didn't do bad on the first test, but you also didn't do the greatest. Thankfully, you're still at a good point in the semester, which gives you enough time to pull your grade up.

Once the initial rush of people leaving the classroom dies down, you pack up your things and head out the door. You hurry out of the classroom and down the steps, excited to see your boyfriend after yet another long day. For a split second, the building is crowded with other students leaving their classes and heading to their next destination— whether it be the next class, the library or to their cars. It's a sudden swarm of people that you don't even realize Seonghwa had stepped out of his own class, following you down the corridor.

"Y/N." You hear Seonghwa's voice behind you. You try to mind your own business, subtly rolling your eyes as you walk out of the science building to reunite with Yunho. 

Except, he isn't exactly there yet and Seonghwa grabs you by the wrist.

"Y/N." He repeats, turning you to face him.

"What are you doing?" You question him.

"Just a second." You let out a loud, heavy sigh. "Why are you being like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like you ignoring me. You haven't answered any of my texts or calls—"

"Why do I need to?" You raise a brow. "You're not actually serious, right? I have no reason to respond to you, Seonghwa. Don't you have places to be, people to see?" You pause. "Don't you realize you're a little too late? This was something I needed from you way before. I don't need it from you now."

"I know it's late, but I don't wanna give up on this."

"This? This has been done for a long time, you and I both know that. You're only worried about losing the only safety blanket you've ever had. Why can't you just move on and let me be happy?"

"Happy?" Seonghwa almost scoffs. "With him? Okay, baby." He shakes his head. "Listen. Enough of this for real. Can you please just hear me out, I'll explain and apologize properly—"

"Seonghwa, stop calling me that. What don't you understand about no?" You say almost at a whine, his hand still having a grip on the edge of your wrist. You truly don't want to entertain this, but Seonghwa almost gives you no way out, no way around his bullshit, and unfortunately, that'll be the root of everything that unfolds tonight. Yunho is happily [and eagerly] making his way down to you after the long, heavy study group session, while Yeosang decides he's gonna stay behind in order to hit the gym and get his workout in. Yunho is a few minutes late, but he knows you'll still flash him that beautiful, million-watt smile he adores so much before wrapping your arms around him.

He can't wait.

But, Yunho slows in his steps just as he's close to the front doors; familiar voices filling the surprisingly empty, quiet space.  It's you, and he already feels himself boiling with anger when he hears who else is occupying your time right now.

"Why haven't you even said anything about the flowers and the card I gave you? Did you even get them?" Yunho overhears Seonghwa ask you, and he furrows his brows. What flowers and card? You don't answer right away, and Seonghwa is quick to follow up. Yunho doesn't even get to hear your response about it and the most upsetting part of all this— is that this is how he finds out about everything.

Not from you, but from Seonghwa.

"You couldn't even send me a text? I was worried you didn't get it. I wanted to talk to you afterwards."

"What is there to talk about?"

"Yeah, what is there to talk about?" You and Seonghwa turn towards Yunho, who stands there with his hands dug deep into his pockets. His jaw is slightly clenched, head titled to the side while he waits for a response. Seonghwa lets out a pathetic chuckle, hand slipping down your wrist as he fully faces him.

"Loverboy sounds upset over a little talk."

"A little talk? Is that an add-on for the flowers and card you sent her?" Yunho sounds more stern, more angry. You can't even blame him, but at the same time, it's unusual for you to hear him this way. You're not sure what could come out of this and you don't necessarily want to find out.

"I'm sorry, should I have sent you some, too?" Seonghwa steps closer to him and the panic starts to settle in for you. You wish someone, anyone, was around to help. Because although you don't think Yunho will let this blow out of proportion, you aren't 100% about your answer. You're not sure how Yunho manages his anger in these situations and you're not sure what triggers him; what tips him over the edge and is the 'cherry on top.' Seonghwa has always rubbed him the wrong way and you don't think this could end remotely pretty. "I'll take note of that for next time so you don't have to sit there and stare at Y/N's."

How you wish Seonghwa had just gotten the point. Why couldn't he just let you be? Why was he out to ruin your happiness so badly?

"Seonghwa. This is done. Let it go." You warn him, but it doesn't clear anything. You aren't getting through to any of them.

"Back up. I'm not asking." Yunho clenches his jaw as he comes face to face with Seonghwa, making him give off a small scoff.

"Aw. Loverboy's mad—" And that's exactly the tipping point for Yunho. He's not sure why, he usually has a lot of patience. He usually brushes things off easily, doesn't hold a grudge or stay angry for long. But, Seonghwa? He was a different story, especially because of the history you have with him. Every little thing about Seonghwa pisses him off— down to the way he moves, breathes, acts like he can always get his way so easily, so quickly. Before he can even think about the consequences, or how you'd feel, Yunho swings at him, making Seonghwa stumble backwards. 

"Yunho!—" You gasp, Yunho's initial punch is pretty rough that it had Seonghwa in shock before being able to register what just happened.

"Fuck you—" Is all Seonghwa spits out before going at Yunho. The two continue to go at it, pushing and gripping at each other's shirts, rough attempts at landing punches;

They're almost successful with tearing each other's heads off until you step in between and get involved.

"Stop!" You step in between to try and prevent the fight from escalating even more. "Stop it!" You push Seonghwa back when he tries coming for Yunho, a campus security guard dashing towards all of you to completely break up the scuffle.

"Knock it off! The hell are you two doing acting like this on campus? I suggest you two part ways now before we call the cops over!"

"Yo, what the fuck?!" Mingi comes from around the corner, grabbing at Seonghwa's arm to pull him back. "The fuck are you doing, dude?" He looks at his bestfriend in disbelief.

"Why don't you ask your friend who fucking started it—"

"Me?" Yunho spits, while Seonghwa wipes the blood at the corner of his lip. "I wouldn't have had to if you just knew how to back the fuck off!" Yunho is angry, continuing to raise his voice. "Let me catch you sending shit to my girlfriend one more time and see what the fuck I'll do—" 

"Yunho." You say softly, tugging back at his arm.

"Are you serious?" Mingi looks at Seonghwa. "You don't go messing around with people's relationships, Hwa. You need to let this go, you look crazy!" 

"Oh, so all of a sudden you're sticking up for your friend?"

"Yeah, because he is my friend and it's just shit you don't do! What the fuck don't you understand about that?! You fucking deserved that shit!" Mingi shakes his head before pushing Hwa forward, pulling him off to the side to continue talking to him. 

"Babe." You turn to Yunho after Mingi and Seonghwa create good distance, hand coming up to cup Yunho's cheek. But, he turns, slightly shaking his head at you. You pull your hand back and feel your heart drop, the look in Yunho's eyes being one that you've never experienced before.

Sadness, hurt, anger. 

Mostly sadness, hurt.

"What flowers was he talking about, Y/N?" His chest is still rising at a somewhat uneven pace, doing his best to calm down after the adrenaline rush.

"H-he left them at my doorstep after we came back from the snow. I'm really sorry, Yunho, I didn't tell you because I tossed it out and—"

"But still, it's the fact that you didn't tell me after all this time." Yunho's brows are tightly knitted together, and the look causes your heart to sink even deeper. "Why did you have to let me find out this way? Were you going to tell me about this too if I hadn't come right away?"

"I just didn't get around to telling you because I didn't think it would matter— Seonghwa doesn't matter."

"If he didn't, then wouldn't you be able to tell me without questioning it so much?"

"Yunho, no. I'm sorry, no." You repeat, tears pricking your eye lids. "I didn't mean for it to seem like that. I really didn't mean to hide this from you."

"Did you think about keeping them?"

"I—I, no. I thought—" Yunho hears you stuttering and his throat suddenly feels dry. Why can't you just tell him? Even if Seonghwa didn't matter to you, why couldn't you trust him enough to tell him? 

Why couldn't you feel comfortable enough to tell him?

"Be honest with me, Y/N. That's all I've ever asked. Did you or did you not think about it keeping it?" Silence. And god, it is the most gut-wrenching silence Yunho has ever endured.

Yup. Got it. 

The answer is clear.

You did think about Seonghwa. You thought about accepting the flowers as his apology, you thought about the possibility— even if it was for a brief, splitting second. Seonghwa did matter for one fucking second, and that's what bothers him.

"Yunho, please. I just thought—" You can barely get through your sentences.

"Did you, or did you not?"

"I thought about keeping it, but it was so stupid. I was just blinded for a second, and I realized it didn't matter to me. He doesn't matter to me. At all. I promise. Everything just caught me off guard." You try to grab for his hand but he steps back. "Yunho, it was all stupid. I tossed it out so quickly. I wasn't going to do anything, I wasn't going to text, nothing."

"But, why does it feel like after everything he's put you through, you still believe he'd genuinely change? Why does it feel like a part of you is still actually holding onto that?" Well, when Yunho says it to your face like that, you feel dumb. Not once did you ever think about running back to Seonghwa and leaving this behind. But, you were blinded in that quick second from your history with Hwa, being close and sharing moments for months. Asking Seonghwa for little gestures like this, for more attention; even though it was a ride, you still had history.

And yes, maybe at one point you wanted to be the girl that changed him.

But today, you can't even imagine going back to that point. Not after being with Yunho, not after the happiness he's brought you.

Not after you realize how much you genuinely and truly love Yunho. 

You don't wanna lose him.

This is all so stupid, and a huge misunderstanding. But, you're the only person to blame here— if you hadn't given Seonghwa the time of day, if you had just told Yunho right away without second-guessing it, if you hadn't hesitated; you wouldn't be here right now.

"I'm not!" Your tone raises and it sounds like a whine at this point. "I'm not, Yunho. Please."

"Look, tonight was a lot." He sighs, running his hand through his hair before wincing and looking down at his knuckles. "I was excited to see you after a long day, Y/N. I was really looking forward to being with you. I wasn't expecting all of this and honestly, I don't know what's worse? Stumbling upon all of this the way I did, or not knowing at all."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. It was stupid and fucked up of me, and I'm sorry." You repeat, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Maybe you just need to think about what you really want." Yunho shrugs. "I thought you were over the whole thing with Seonghwa, but clearly not if you're still considering on giving him the time of day."

"No, no, Yunho. Please don't. It's not that." You try to lace your hand with his, but he gently brushes it off with a shaky sigh. He doesn't wanna leave you. He never wants to be without you. But, tonight was a lot for him to handle, and it is overwhelming. He hasn't really felt this protective over someone. Of course, it's only natural since you're his girlfriend. He'll always protect you. It's just that Seonghwa brings something out of him that he doesn't necessarily like, and he wants it to be gone for good. It feels unhealthy and icky;

The anger, the frustration, the anxiety.

He hates it. And he doesn't want this to be a thing in your relationship. Plus, he still feels himself fuming with anger and he just can't possibly talk to you while he feels that way.

So yes, he's overwhelmed and he needs to get over this.

"No, seriously. You really should think about it. I know where I stand but I'm not so sure you do." He lets out another disappointed sigh. "I'll take you home, but we should probably just be in our own places tonight."

"Okay." You say close to a whisper, sniffling as you wipe away at your face. You don't even try to fight it anymore simply because you know Yunho needs his space right now. He begins to walk off with you slowly trailing behind, head hung low after everything that happened tonight. Everything happened so fast you're also having to process it all on this walk over to the lot. Suddenly, you're pulled out of your thoughts when you hear footsteps picking up behind you, followed by a familiar, deep voice.

"Yo, wait up!" Mingi says. "You good? I'm sorry about him, he's actually losing it."

"You're sorry? Mingi, when the fuck is your friend gonna grow up so that you're not apologizing on his behalf?" Mingi lets out a breath as his eyes dart from you, back to Yunho's. "Seriously. I don't mean to throw that your way, but it's not even just about tonight. Your friend knows no boundaries and that's crazy to me."

"I know, he's got things to sort through but that's his own problem now. I already told him multiple times. Me and San did." Mingi shakes his head.

"Doesn't take much to grow the fuck up and take ownership of your own fuck-ups once in awhile."

"Let him keep learning the hard way. He will, eventually. He deserved that tonight."

"He can try all he wants, nothing's gonna change between me and her. Hope he understands I'm not going anywhere after tonight."

"Of course." Is all Mingi could respond with because of course Yunho wouldn't go anywhere— why the fuck would he let Seonghwa get in the way? He shouldn't. And Seonghwa needs to know that. "Anyway, just wanted to see if you two were okay. For real." Yunho sighs.

"Mmyeah. Thanks." He responds as Mingi daps it up. "We're just gonna head home."

"Drive safely. Text me if you need me." Mingi gives you a small smile before running off to tend to his friends, San now also getting dragged into all his mess. 

The walk over is quiet, but Yunho still opens the passenger door for you when you finally get to his car. You hate the silence that falls between you two, but you understand Yunho is upset and needs his own time away from everything, from you, even. You can't help but cry even more into your hands when he pulls into the apartment lot, Yunho letting out a breath as he puts the car in park. He looks over at you and his heart breaks because he truly hates to see you cry, and he never wants to be the reason behind you being sad or hurt.

"Hey. Don't." He says softly, hands coming up to pry your own hands away from your face. He gently wipes the tears away, making sure no drop is missed. 

"I'm sorry, Yuyu." You repeat.

"I know, it's okay."  He says, even though right now, it's not.

"Is it?"

"Let's get you home, okay?" He just looks at you with a soft expression before unbuckling his seatbelt. He comes over to open your door, locking his car when you step out and slowly make your way to your apartment. When you get to the steps, you turn towards him with a small pout. Yunho pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, wiping any remaining stragglers from staining your cheeks. He's not happy, but he's trying to send you off on a calm note— hoping this could at least ease you for the night. "Get some rest."

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" He doesn't say anything before he pulls away and takes a few steps backwards. "Yunho." You call for him in that tone of yours that always makes him so weak.

"Y/N, please. I just need to shake this off. That's all. Goodnight." All you can do is simply walk away before running up the steps and into your apartment. Chaery is the only one home, cleaning her dishes after cooking a good meal for all of you to share.

"My love is home! I cooked!" She says happily, but her smile dies when she sees you set your bags down and cry into your hands. She drops everything and rushes over, throwing her arms around you while guiding you to the couch. "Hey, what's wrong? What happened?" She brushes the hair away from your face while you continue to cry. You don't respond for a bit, signaling for Chaery to just hold you and let you be.

You cry, and you cry.

Because you already miss Yunho, and you feel so dumb for overthinking the entire thing, for not being honest with him. It was a stupid mistake, but you hope Yunho knows you truly weren't out to hurt him. 

You hope he can forgive you and move past this— with you, together.

Because today and so on, he's all you want. You love Yunho, and there's no one else that completes you the way that he does.

♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintificreads @primoppang @betray-the-light @aurorasjoongie @wineyoungie @yunhotteokkk @yungigiggles @jaerisdiction @ignoretheskies @luminouskalopsia @naeviscall @vixensss @choisansplushie @arya9111 @my-lightspirit @dazednconfusion @astro-doll-the-star @faesmingi @idfkeddieishot @startinystay @emily505 @mgdixon @mcsalterego @cheynalexilaiho @svintsandghosts @mismatchfluffysocks

[butterscotchpiesandguys]

Student Becomes the Teacher

It was a familiar experience to me, getting in my car, going to class early, doing homework. Felt nice. Of course what was also familiar was the bullying. You see I had recently gotten fired and had a wake up call. I needed to do something better with my life. So what did I do? i, as someone so smart would do, joined a technical institute. I went into a more financial side though. This did not make me popular with my classmates who had been there longer, were usually older, and most of which were more hands on.

They would call me a nerd, a loser, and a geek. Of course I didn't care all too much about this. Harassment was just that, and quite frankly it was some annoying dumb ass adults who couldn't even think straight enough to get a job that was actually needed. This attitude also made me very unpopular. So unpopular a teacher complained. Why? Cause he had heard some of the stuff me and my field would say about the welders.

It was just stuff like how they're stupid, all have at least one DUI, won't amount to anything. Stuff like that. He went so far to complain to the head administrator of the school. Now he used to be an electrician so he knew how it was to be hands on. He loved hearing about all of this and hatched a plan. The workload for the welders had been pretty overwhelming for just one instructor...

It was only a few days before I heard murmurs of a new instructor coming on campus, of course it was some welder... not like my section could get anything. But that same week I was called into an office at campus. I expected nothing much, maybe an odd thing I lost, although what it was I could not imagine... what I didn't expect was the head administrator.

"Hello [Y/N], we just wanted to talk to you today." Oh god what was it about, he could see how nervous I was. It was humiliating but also I needed to try and keep cool. "We had received some complaints about your attitude towards the welders and electricians, I just wanted to go through a few questions with you, that ok?"

Without knowing what to do I nodded, "Y-yes sir." I gulped a bit.

"Good, so first... is it true you had said to Taylor that he was a... no good stoner with no future? Is that true?" I tried to shake my head no but it went the opposite way. "Ah, glad you were honest with me. Well... you know here we like to give second chances to anyone right?" I shook my head in agreement. "In that case, any felonies you have?"

What felonies? What kind of- "Yeah, actually I've had a dui or two, got arrested for a fight or two... or more." What was I saying?! What the hell?!

"I appreciate your honesty... Tom was it?" What kind of name was that? It wasn't my name at all? Wait why did I nod?! "Yeah, well that's gonna be tough but your students generally would relate. The head administrator smiled at me. "We can wave those away since your track record for your work is pretty good."

"Glad to hear that." I said again in that weird voice. What the hell was happening... why did I suddenly remember welding and shit... What the hell...

"Yeah... I think you'll fit right in, Tom." Why was he being so devilish right now?!

"Thanks man, really need this." I chuckled as I stood up and walked out of the room. "Startin next thursday right?"

"Yup! Just wear somethin like that when you come in! We'll get a shirt in your size soon!" He laughed as I walked out, the window in the door showing a new reflection.

My face was more dashing, a bit older as well. My hair was messy but in an almost purposeful way. My body had grown quite a bit of muscle now... hair as well. Tattoos had been put on my body frivolously! I looked like some typical douche bag!

I walked through the halls, trying to see on my phone what had happened. My background was a picture of a motorcycle. Jessie... what? Who the hell was Jessie? My contacts had some girls in there and some guys I had no clue who they were. Going through the messages they were my drinking buddies and some hookups.

I continued until the electrician teacher stopped to talk. "Hey are you..." I wanted to say my actual name but that didn't pop out.

"Yeah, name's Thomas Wylder. You can just call me Tom though." I smiled at her... it was like my body moved on it's own. "New teacher here, welding." Wait...

We started to talk in the hall for a bit, just about staff in the school and how the welders were. She described them as younger than me and rowdy. I would make douchey comments or state shit about my life. Where I now lived, how many years I had been a welder and in the union. It was like I wasn't even me anymore. Eventually I cut it short, needing to go do some "tasks" at my home.

I went outside to find it... the same motorcycle from the picture. Jessie. I put on a leather jacket and no helmet... I could ride it with no issue though. I was still wondering how or why this happened. It was as if I was... no... the head administrator wouldn't do that would he?

I eventually got back to wherever my home was. Beaten up shithole kinda... not in a good neighborhood either. I waved to a neighbor and went in. Smelt like shit, I reached in my pocket and took out a cig and started smoking... no... I was the worst kind of person. The kind I hated. Dumb, arrogant, douchey, and toxic! It was awful!

2 MONTHS HAD GONE BY

I was now regularly teaching the class, about two weeks into this hellish experience I had started to regain full control of my life. While I tried to actually stop these worse traits, I couldn't. By that point they were ingrained into me. Now I acted like a douchey teacher, the kinds you hate. The ones that will just tease or make fun of nerdy kids. Of course I was well loved by the staff and my students.

I worked as a welder and taught the trade now. I hated it... but it gave me money to pay the lifestyle I never wanted. I don't think I deserved this but... I'm slowly coming around to it. I feel more confident and hey, I even hang out with some of the douchebags I had teach me when I went here... god I sound so old now... I hope someday I can reverse this before it's way too late.

[orange-demons-deactivated2024]

2 year 'Hiatus'

(long post/rambling)

Hello everyone! The day's finally come for me to start my 2-year hiatus.

I'll be starting school tomorrow, July 1st, from 8am - 5pm Mon-Fri. (Full time). So there won't be many opportunities for me to keep constantly posting here all the time.

I want to personally thank you all for welcoming me into the Street Fighter fandom and for taking the time out of your day to interact with my blog.

I never thought I would become a fanfic writer again after so many years of not writing and to meet so many of you throughout my stay here.

With my first fic, Mount, I was nervous about people not caring about it and for it to be lost in the Street Fighter algorithm because I joined the fandom so late. (March 2024). And originally, I planned to make that my only fanfic and call it a day. But after I got my first comment I was over the moon.

Then slowly I had people liking and following this side blog where I dumped all my random reblogs on. And that's when I realized, there were people still out there loving these characters as much as I did despite the slow traction on the street fighter dash.

So that's when I decided to make this random side blog into a SF6 fanfic blog.

I started to write strictly Bosch x Reader's in the beginning because he was the reason why I joined this space in the first place. Then I wrote for Luke, then Poison, then Ed, then Jamie, then at last Chun-Li. I learned to love characters that I first didn't give a second thought about and I learned more info. about some SF characters I wasn't aware of before.

Then my blog went from 0 followers to 38! Holy smokes, 38 people really cared enough to follow and read my ramblings? That's crazy. I never even expected to have 1 follower much less 38.

My favorite part about writing for this fandom was interacting with everyone in the comment section/reblogs. I enjoy talking to you all and writing silly blurbs whenever we get too into the hcs. Really, it makes my day better when I see people commenting and giving love to my works.

And to be 100% honest with you all, I was originally going to start including a lot more X Fem!Reader Inserts because I am a Cis Woman who never wrote for any other genders but Fem! ones. But seeing how little fanfics there were, I thought it would be unfair for me to exclude the other side of the SF6 fandom that wouldn't be able to enjoy any reader inserts because of their gender.

So I'm glad I didn't go that route because I got to find ways to be more inclusive in my writings without mentioning the reader's Skin/Gender/Appearance in any of them and to keep them gender-neutral.

And as a reminder, this blog is the first time for me to write this way, so if you guys think that some of my works sound Fem! based please tell me so I could fix it. Because the last thing I want is for people to tell me I'm more biased for my female audience.

I don't know If you guys knew this, but it kinda broke my heart when I found out I was accepted to this school. Granted, I've been trying to get in for 4 years.

But I honestly didn't think I would've gotten in this year because I thought I bombed my 5-panel interview with the school and they only accepted the top 25 people in my area.

I even started to make plans to work a full-time job somewhere else, take Muay Thai classes, write more fics, and give up on my dreams of ever becoming an X-ray tech. But then I got a phone call on my birthday saying I made it in!

I was overwhelmed with happiness for all my efforts getting into this school after so long. I felt like I was running behind all my peers who already graduated and got their careers started compared to me. But now I get to finally start mine and do what I've always wanted to do and to help people.

Then, I was hit with a wave of sadness because I barely dipped my toes into the Street Fighter fandom and now I'm already leaving. All my ideas for future fics, including the ones rotting in my drafts, may never see the light of day. I was really sad for everything to come to an abrupt end for something that barely even started.

What's going to happen to this blog?

To be frank with you all, I still REALLY want to post SF fics but I know that it probably won't be possible with my schedule for the next 2 years.

I do get a 1-2 week break every 3 months for my school so y'all might see something pop up in the SF6 feed every once in a while. I’ll mostly be writing on my terms and I won’t be answering anyone’s asks. But it's not guaranteed you will.

Plus, I bought the game, so it's not like I'm just gonna drop SF6 out of my life completely. I'll post things here and there that are not fics and maybe tiny drabbles in my free time but it's still up in the air if I will. You'll see me being active on here but not in the same way that you usually do.

Now that I'm transitioning to going to school full-time, I'm nervous about what's to come out of everything, since I've been looking forward to this day since I graduated high school.

I also want to thank you all for sending your requests in. They helped me learn where my writing was strongest and where I needed to improve.

I tried to get through all of your asks as best as I could but I believe there are 2 left in my inbox as of now. I’m sorry I wasn’t the best at being consistent and I hope to get those out as soon as I can.

Thank you all again, for making my time here memorable and I hope to keep posting more SF6 content in the future.

And please continue to support other fanfic writers in the Street Fighter fandom like:

@ruthlesscore

@chqolan

@randobisexual

@luvlyycy

@cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme

@scarletcoral13

@rosewood-writes-and-reviews

[roseglazedlens]

Hi Rose 🤍 My baby fever is off the charts rn!!! So can I get a hc of any of the RE characters as a baby/toddler in a daycare pls?

Ps: Ik I said any but Chris fs was a FAT baby and Leon was a mama’s boy (thinking about that one audio rn and im sobbing 🥹)

⦑ 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 ⦒

characters: leon s. kennedy, ashley graham, ethan winters, ada wong, chris redfield, claire redfield, carlos oliveira a/n: thank you maya for requesting bby!! my queen!!! also look at me getting too into this, i love these characters so so much! check out re character's reaction & their s/o's dog ! « masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »

LEON S. KENNEDY

You are right! He is a mama's boy!!

On his first few weeks of daycare, Leon would cry the longest every time he's been dropped off.

Has a hard time adjusting to daycare, but gets used to it after making a few friends (notably chris & luis)!

He is always telling his friends and teachers in daycare about how his mama did this... mama did that... Leon is super proud of her.

Also Leon's the kind of kid who plays with cars, crashes them together and starts clapping (Not much different from the present)

ASHLEY GRAHAM

Teacher's pet just because she's always respectful, and sharing toys with her classmates.

Oftentimes, kids take advantage of that and take her toys.

Because of that, I think she's often neglected by her teachers since the other troublemaker kids need more attention, so to speak.

She would be friends with Claire as Claire would not hesitate to snitch on other kid's bad behaviour to the teacher.

Ashley loves little Sylvanian Families and play-doh - I see this developing into a slime making hobby as an adult!

ETHAN WINTERS

I'm getting the quiet, nerdy kid vibe for Ethan.

Toddler Ethan loves to collect trading cards, he doesn't necessarily know how to play the game, he just likes the glossy look of them.

I feel like he'll have trouble making friends in class because they don't understand what the cards mean to him.

Poor kid just wants someone to talk about Pokemon with.

Gets very excited about dinosaurs and will play the game "Who can name the most dinosaurs?" knowing he'll always win.

ADA WONG

Don't mess with Ada, or she'll have you regret it.

Even as a toddler, she would always get her way. Always be the first on swings.

Ada, even as a kid, enjoys her solitude and hates for that to be broken. She enjoys playing LEGO uninterrupted.

I can see her hating loud kids like Chris (And that's totally not because Chris trampled her LEGO town one time and she'd held that grudge for life)

Younger Ada teaches the other kids bad words, but somehow she is never caught, and never gotten in trouble.

CHRIS REDFIELD

Fat baby (he's just built this way)

'Accidentally' steals Claire's NERF guns, and feigns ignorance when he's confronted.

Big troublemaker at daycare. Teachers are always chasing him down but toddler Chris runs really fast.

100% Captain America enthusiast. He admires the act of serving his country, and that lead him to choose a career in military.

NERFs guns for life - I see him messing around and shooting the dart at other kids (especially Claire, usually to get back at her for snitching on him to mum)

CLAIRE REDFIELD

Younger Claire, who also inherited the Redfield attitude, takes no shit from anyone.

If Chris shoves her, Claire would shove back. And that may have resulted in a lot of sibling fights.

Strong believer of justice - Will pick fights with anyone, even big kids and adults, if she sees injustice.

Brutally honest kid - when someone asks for a compliment, she would say "That shirt makes you look fat" without batting an eye.

Alike Chris, she loves NERF guns (they often like the same guns, so it almost always turns into a brawl at the toy section)

CARLOS OLIVEIRA

Carlos, is the number one reason of all teacher's migraines in his daycare.

He is the class clown, so anything he says gets a reaction from the other kids in class (often disrupting them)

So the moment Carlos speaks (he is still focusing on whatever he's doing), the class erupts in laughter.

Toddler Carlos is the kid who mashes the music button on a toy repeatedly. A cheeky smile on his face, very entertained by it.

Also I see toddler Carlos on the trampoline a lot, often trying to jump as high as he can. Even though he is most definitely too young to be on the trampoline.

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. tags: @valsthea @sporeghost @httpsuguru @emilzke @daydreamrot @navstuffs @custard0nut @ovaryacted © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

[laurenairay]

comes back to me, burning red - F. Andersen

Summary: Kendra Lee and Freddie Andersen lost touch after he was traded from Anaheim – will a surprise encounter bring back their friendship? And maybe more?

I’m jumping in as a pinch hitter for @misshoneyimhome for @callsign-denmark’s Luck of the Puck fic exchange! I haven’t written about Freddie in a little while so it was fun getting back to him – and thanks for answering all my questions! Such a lovely twist of fate after receiving my own fic from her today.

Flashback sections are in italics.

Words: 7.9k

Warnings: discussion of Freddie’s injuries, light angst, friends to lovers, cheesy flirting

Title from: Red by Taylor Swift

~

“Good morning Kendra Lee!”

Kendra grimaced, shutting the door to her yoga studio behind her, her long blonde hair swinging as she turned.

“Full name, first thing in the morning? What did I do?”

Her colleague and friend, Mimi, just snickered, shaking her head.

“Nothing bad, I promise,” Mimi said, smiling.

“Still ominous,” Kendra mused, swiping her staff card to log her as present in the building, “What’s going on?”

“Okay so you know how you moving over to Raleigh with me a month ago was to give you opportunities to do more yoga rehabilitation work?”

“Yes…?”

It was true, as vague as her friend was being. Having worked across yoga studios California for nearly 11 years, Kendra had jumped at the chance of diving more into rehabilitation work within yoga. Being made co-owner with Mimi and her sister Celeste was just the cherry on top.

“I was staying late last night to finish up the stock check and I got a call – specifically for you to do yoga rehab for an athlete needing conditioning to make his way back to playing. I know it’s right up your street, kind of exactly what you want to do more of, so I said yes.”

“You said yes already?” Kendra asked, surprised.

“I know, I know, but this is a huge opportunity. I said yes, with the caveat that I would double check timings with you this morning and let them know your availability for today,” Mimi explained.

“For today?” Kendra gasped.

“Yes, I know, but the guy organising it all for the athlete was insistent – the athlete chose you, off a list of yoga instructors based on feedback from other clients you had, and that’s huge,” Mimi said, wincing in apology.

Kendra took the time to think over her friend’s words, throwing her long blonde waves up in a twisted bun, her typical work hairstyle.

“You’re right. That is huge. Surprising, but huge. I guess, uh, just see what I’ve got this afternoon? I know I’ve got a couple of classes this morning already,” Kendra eventually said, “including…damn it, one that start in 15 minutes.”

Pregnancy Yoga, affectionately known as Moms who Move. Not women to mess around.

“Alright, you go get set up and I’ll call them back. Thanks, Kendra. And sorry for it being so last minute,” Mimi smiled.

“Hey, it happens. Let’s stay positive with it!” Kendra grinned.

As sudden as the work was, it really was where her heart lay, so this could only be a good thing right? Everything she’d been working towards?

“That’s the spirit I love! Get it girl!”

Kendra just laughed her way into Studio Two, her usual room, ready to make sure her class was set up in time.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, Kendra was pleasantly tired. All three classes had run smoothly so far today and there had been no major hiccups (or incidents) with any of her students. Even the Grooving Grandmas class (the adorable name her group of 12 senior ladies gave themselves) had behaved today, which only left her in a great mood.

So great, she lost track of time, until Mimi poked her head into the room.

“Hey, Kendra, your 2pm is here.”

“Oh damn, the athlete?”

“Yeah that’s the one. I’m just finishing up his intake forms if you want to join us,” Mimi said with a smile.

Kendra smiled back, nodding as she followed her friend out to the front desk. If she was being honest with herself, she would’ve liked a bit more preparation time, or even a name to start with. Hell, even the sport the athlete played in would’ve been useful, so she could start thinking of a program for them. Hopefully the athlete would understand the last minute nature of the set up. Hopefully.

But standing there in the lobby was the last person she expected to see. Just as tall and gorgeous and imposing as she’d last seen him in Anaheim, before he left over 7 years ago. He was her athlete?

“Freddie?”

“It’s been a long time, Kendra,” he murmured, smiling.

“You two know each other?” Mimi said, confused.

~

“How are your teaching hours coming along? You can’t have many left now before the next level, right?”

Kendra smiled up at her boss brightly. After her initial 200 hours training, she knew that teaching yoga was going to be her life’s work, even though she was only 21. Having worked insanely hard over the past two years, she was nearly ready to lead classes all by herself rather than as an assistant, and wasn’t that a heady thought? “No, not many left at all. As of yesterday I actually have 990 hours logged.”

“So you’re nearly ERYT 200?” her boss, James, grinned.

The third level of yoga instructor, after two years and 1000 hours of teaching.

“Just 10 hours left!” Kendra said brightly.

“That’s kind of perfect, if I’m being honest. We’ve been contacted by the Anaheim Ducks to run a conditioning class for a portion of the team. There are 20 players who’ve signed up, and the idea is that those who find it useful will sign up for more classes.”

“20 ice hockey players. My God. Will they take it seriously?”

She’d seen plenty of jocks in her 21 years and she knew exactly how much they goofed around when they didn’t care about things.

“Oh yeah, this is mandatory for these players and I’ll be evaluating them to send it back to their trainers. It’s serious – and it’s a big opportunity for the studio too.”

“Yeah definitely. And it’ll be good to see a different type of client for a change,” Kendra nodded.

“We love our yoga moms, don’t front,” James mused.

Kendra just grinned. She did love her beginner’s yoga mom class, he was right.

“It’ll be a big opportunity for you too, to work with them. If enough sign up, I’d like you to take on at least one for solo instruction the moment you have those 1000 hours done, to give you that experience. But if any of them give you any trouble, you let me know, okay? I won’t stand for it, regardless of who they are.”

“Thanks boss.”

“Any time.”

By the time 11am rolled around, Kendra was nervous. Not a bad nervous though, more like butterflies. She was so closed to her next stage of yoga teaching that she could almost taste it. She just hoped that this giant group of giant men would be a positive experience. They arrived in a herd, filling up the room quickly, and Kendra waited at the front of the room off to the side while her boss waited for them all to be ready.

“Alright, thanks for joining us today. I’m James Fields, owner and lead yoga instructor here, and this is Kendra Lee, who will be running this class alongside me,” he started.

She just grinned at the curious looks sent her way. Let them underestimate her, that was fine.

“As you all know, this class is mandatory and I will be evaluating you for your conditioning staff, so pay attention and we’ll all have a great time.”

Kendra watched a few disgruntled expressions popping up and fought not to laugh. Hockey players. She should’ve known they wouldn’t be any different. As her boss continued to talk, Kendra’s eyes drifted across the room, eventually landing on the man in front of her. Well, man was pushing it – this guy couldn’t be more than a couple of years older than her. A broad-shouldered redhead, pretty face, serious expression taking in her boss’s words. This one was paying attention. This one wanted to learn. Good. Even from here she could tell he would tower over her, although at 5ft2 that wasn’t really a difficult barrier. Maybe 6ft4? Maybe? Either way, this guy was going to be a good student, she could already tell.

As if he could sense his eyes on her, the man glanced over, catching her gaze. She froze, a little embarrassed to be caught staring, but he just smiled. Oh what a lovely smile that was. It was all she could do to smile back.

“If you’re all ready then, Kendra will lead you through Sun Salutation to warm up.”

She broke out of her thoughts, waving cheerfully at them all and earning a laugh. “I’ll be gentle, I promise,” she grinned.

~

“Yeah Freddie used to come to classes at my first studio, back in Anaheim about 10ish years ago. It’s been a while,” Kendra nodded, forcing a smile on her face.

Mimi raised an eyebrow but smiled politely at Freddie. “If you head on into Studio Two, Kendra will be right with you. I just need her to sign a form.”

He nodded, following the instructions with a smile sent Kendra’s way, leaving her alone with her colleague.

“Okay what the hell was that?” Mimi asked, wiggling her fingers in the direction Freddie went.

Kendra sighed, hands on hips.

“That was an old friend who I haven’t seen or spoken to in over 7 years. Him coming here out of the blue just threw me off, that’s all.”

“Is he going to be a problem? Because I have no issue with kicking him out if he doesn’t deserve a moment in your company,” Mimi said firmly.

It was times like this that Kendra really loved her friends.

“No, no it’ll be okay. There was no drama, we just drifted out of contact. Sure it sucked, but it was a long time ago? It’ll be fine. Besides, like you said, this is a big opportunity for me to do more with yoga rehab, right?”

Mimi pursed her lips but nodded. “Alright, if you’re sure. But let me know the second that you change your mind, if you need to.”

Kendra just gave her a quick hug, nudging her friend’s hip with her yoga mat, before heading resolutely towards Studio Two.

~

“So you enjoyed the last group class then?”

“I did. Anything to keep my flexibility up as good as it can get, right?”

Kendra just smiled, nodding. “Not that you seemed to have a problem with your flexibility.”

“Well I certainly haven’t had any complaints.”

He froze the moment the words left his lips, looking mortified. It was all she could do to burst into laughter at the horror on his face.

“I am so sorry. That was so unprofessional,” he groaned.

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard since I’ve started here,” she said, still giggling, “You have nothing to worry about Mr Andersen.”

“Please, call me Freddie?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as his cheeks flamed red.

“Sure thing. Now let’s talk solo session scheduling – what works best for you?”

~

Kendra took a shaky breath as the memories of her first solo yoga session with Freddie washed over her, before steeling herself, pushing open the studio door. Freddie was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor on the mat he’d brought with him, and immediately smiled up at her, loosening a bit of tension in her chest. She could do this. She could totally do this.

“Hey, Freddie,” she said, unrolling her own mat.

“Hey Kendra. It’s good to see you,” he replied as she sat down opposite him.

“Good to see you too. I won’t say it isn’t a surprise because that would be a lie, but it is good to see you after all these years.”

Freddie winced a little, making her grimace inside. Was that too much?

“About that…”

He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, so Kendra quickly shook her head. Their past wasn’t what this was all about, and it would do neither of them any good to hash it up now.

“You’re here now,” she said firmly, “So, yoga rehab. Do you know much about what it entails or if there’s anything your team specifically wants?”

“Uh, I only know the basics really. Obviously I’ve done it a lot before for conditioning, which is what my trainer said this mostly will be as my injury was a blood clotting issue rather than muscles or joints?”

Blood clots. Damn. And for someone only in their 30s?

“That must’ve been really scary,” she murmured.

His eyes widened a little in surprise, but he nodded, smiling sadly. “I genuinely thought my career was over. I’ve been out for stretches of time before, but never for anything like this. I felt…helpless,” he admitted.

She could only guess he was being so vulnerable because of their history but she still appreciated his honesty. It can’t have been easy to admit such a thing.

“I can imagine you would, yeah. But the team are figuring it out, right? They wouldn’t be signing you up for yoga rehab if they didn’t have a plan in place?” Kendra said, trying to be positive.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. They’ve tried a few things and they seem to be happy with the results anyway – they’re looking at about a month if all goes well,” Freddie nodded.

“That’s fantastic. I’m glad I’ll be able to help you get back to where you need to be. I’ll do a bunch of research after today, to make sure I’m not pushing you too hard, to make sure I’m doing the best I can for you,” Kendra said, smiling.

One month. One month with a rehabilitation she’d never come across before. This was the exact kind of challenge she wanted – and it would be with Freddie?

“I know you will, Kendra. I trust you completely. I just…”

He trailed off, chewing his bottom lip, his hesitation making her chest ache.

“What is it?” she prompted, trying to be gentle.

“I don’t want this to be it. I’m not ready for my career to be over. I still want, no, need to prove myself,” he said softly.

“Your talent and reputation precede you, Freddie. Everything that you’ve achieved with the Leafs and now with the Canes? How beloved you are by teammates and fans? You prove yourself, every day.”

“You’ve followed my career?” he asked, clearly surprised.

To be fair, she didn’t think she would’ve been able to keep following him after he left Anaheim, but it was Freddie.

“How could I not? We were friends,” she shrugged, trying to keep her voice light.

A wave of sadness washed over Freddie’s expression, making her heart clench in her chest, but before he could speak, Kendra cleared her throat.

“You’ve got this, Freddie Andersen. We’re going to get you back to where you need to be, and you’re going to kick metaphorical ass. Maybe even literal ass if you need to,” she said firmly.

Freddie managed a small smile, nodding.

“Let’s do this then.”

~

“Hey, Kendra. Thanks for today. I really enjoyed the session.”

She looked up at Freddie as she took her hair out of the twisted bun she put it in for working, letting her hair cascade down her back in blonde waves.

“You don’t have to thank me every time, you know,” she mused.

After that fateful first group class, Freddie has eagerly signed on for more conditioning classes at her studio, and her boss had happily signed him on as her first solo yoga client the moment she reached her 1000 hours milestone. It had been intimidating, if she was being honest, but she was thriving under her own steam, leading all on her own. It didn’t hurt that Freddie was a willing student, keen to increase his flexibility and core strength. And it didn’t hurt that he was absolutely gorgeous either – but that was just for her own thoughts.

“I want to thank you though. The team, management in particular, are really noticing the work I’ve put in as full-time backup, and that’s all down to you,” Freddie said with a shrug and a smile.

“Well in that case, gold star for me,” she grinned.

Freddie barked out a surprised laugh, making her giggle as she rolled up her mat.

“Did you, uh…do you have any more classes now?” he asked, awkward enough for her to pay attention.

“No, you were my last of the day. Why?”

“There’s a new smoothie bar that’s opened up down the road and I was going to go after this – if you want, come with me? I’d love to learn more about how you got into yoga instruction so young,” he said hopefully.

Kendra eyed him for a moment, trying to read any implications or anything untoward in his words. The last thing she wanted was to give off the wrong impression, especially in her first adult job, but Freddie just looked so genuine that she couldn’t help but to smile. A friend couldn’t hurt, right?

“I could go for a smoothie,” she said after a moment or two, nodding.

“Great! Um, I’ll shower, change, and meet you in the lobby?”

“Sounds like a plan,” she mused, “See you soon.”

Within no time at all, Kendra had changed into a cute little cropped lilac sweater and black jeans, leaving her hair down her back to dry in waves. She hadn’t packed any makeup with her, annoyingly, but Freddie saw her all the time without makeup so she guessed it didn’t really matter. Even if she would’ve preferred a dashing of mascara and a swipe of lipgloss. Maybe she’d have to leave a spare of each in her work bag, just in case any future hangouts after work happened.

If today’s smoothie run wasn’t awkward, of course. Damn she hoped it wouldn’t be awkward.

“Ready to go?”

“Let’s do this!” Kendra said cheerfully.

Freddie just smiled down at her, easily towering over her 5ft2 frame with his 6ft4 one – yes she’d looked up his height to be certain, she was curious – opening up the door for her to walk through first.

“Such a gentleman,” she teased.

“I aim to please,” he drawled.

Kendra snorted, immediately covering her face in embarrassment, but Freddie grinned like a cat who got the cream.

“Cute snort,” he smirked.

“Ass,” she shot back, sticking out her tongue to let him know she wasn’t actually mad.

Freddie just laughed, a clear beautiful sound that sent butterflies in her stomach going overdrive. No, this was not the time. Be a professional. Don’t be a giggly idiot. Damn it.

The walk to the smoothie bar couldn’t have taken more than 5 minutes, the two of them staying in a comfortable silence – something that Kendra found difficult with people she’d known for years, so for her to feel such at ease with someone she barely knew? It was strange. Nice, but strange.

“Okay, what’ll it be?” he asked, looking up at the board, “My treat.”

“Are you sure?” she frowned.

Sure, this was her first job and she’d only been in it a couple of months, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t pay her way.

“Absolutely sure. I insist,” Freddie said firmly.

The intensity in his eyes, warm but solid, made her inhale sharply and nod. If he insisted…

“I’ll have almond milk, pineapple, kale, and mango, with a dash of honey. Thanks, Freddie,” she said, smiling up at him.

He just smiled back down at her, sending those butterflies into overdrive again, stepping forward to repeat her order as well as giving his own. When their smoothies arrived, Freddie walked over to a table in the corner so she followed, sitting down with a happy sigh.

“Oh man that’s good. Thanks for inviting me out,” Kendra said, after taking a sip of her smoothie.

“You’re welcome. It’s nice to actually meet someone near my age that as interested in yoga as I am,” Freddie said simply.

“Yeah? Not too many friends or girlfriends wanting to join you?” she asked, somehow managing to stop herself cringing to hard at the wording of her question.

Freddie just smirked slightly but didn’t call her out, thankfully. “No friends who want to do yoga with me, no. Most the team only do yoga when they absolutely have to. And no girlfriend either.”

“That’s a shame,” she said lightly, ignoring the zing through her body, “Yoga is fun and a great stress-reliever.”

“Is that why you got into it then?”

Kendra relaxed back into her seat, taking another sip of her drink, before starting to talk. Over the next hour, the two of them exchanged life stories, getting to know each other properly. Freddie talked about his career so far in the Danish league, how different and difficult it was to move over to Anaheim in August, how he’s just trying to make his mark now he’s been with down with the AHL team most the season and only up for a week. In turn, Kendra talked about how she’d always lived in California, having moved from her hometown in Santa Monica to Anaheim after meeting her now-boss at a training course, how she’d seen her mom doing yoga with her friends and fallen in love with the flow and peacefulness of it as well as the strength it gave. Talking to Freddie felt like they’d been friends for all her life, something she’d never experienced before, and she could only hope this wasn’t the last time they got to do this. Freddie was special, that was clear as day, and she felt lucky to see this relaxed side of him that she doubted many were privy to.

Eventually though, once their smoothies were finished, they had to leave before they overstayed their welcome, and Freddie walked her back to her car.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking across the parking lot on my own, you know,” she mused, jerking her chin in the direction of his car, all the way on the other side.

“And if some weirdo stalks you to your car when I can prevent that, I’d rather avoid you being alone,” he shrugged.

“Aww are you my knight in shining armour, Mr Andersen?” she teased.

Interestingly, his cheeks dusted with a blush.

“I’ll sweep you off your feet any time you need, Miss Lee,” he smirked.

Kendra just burst out laughing, shaking her head at his banter flirting. Ridiculous guy. This was going to be a fun friendship, she could already tell.

“Give me your number? We can sort out another smoothie run,” Freddie said, smiling.

She ignored those traitorous butterflies and nodded, unlocking her phone and handing it over. It could only be a good thing to have more friends in Anaheim, right?

“You think you can handle seeing me outside of the yoga studio?” she mused.

“Oh I know I can.”

~

Kendra and Freddie settled on three yoga sessions a week for his rehabilitation, 12 in total, to give him the conditioning build up he needed while still taking care to manage his recovery. She’d spent all night after that first meeting researching and planning the best course of movements and flows for him, making it challenging but helpful, eventually dragging herself back to bed at 4am, satisfied that what she’d planned would help him.

With any client, she would want to make sure she was satisfied, but with Freddie? She needed it to. Even after everything, she didn’t want to let him down.

Their first two sessions went well, the first mostly easing Freddie back into the swing of things, assessing where his strengths and weaknesses were, and the second session left Freddie groaning but smiling, happy he was able to push himself. Their third session, which Kendra was preparing for, would be another mild push, nothing extreme but still to see where she would need to adjust any plans.

It was all a process, but one she was enjoying immensely. Not just because of her student.

“Knock knock.”

Kendra jolted out of her thoughts, hand on her heart as Freddie walked into the studio with a grin.

“You are the worst,” she groaned.

“So you don’t want the smoothie I picked up on the way?” he mused.

He brought her a smoothie?

Her lips parted in surprise, but she stuck her hand out anyway, Freddie just laughing as he passed it over. The moment she took a sip, a wave of nostalgia ran over her. All she could think about were the smoothie runs and coffees hangouts and even the occasional lunch they used to go to together. Two and a half years of memories all flooding through her system, and it was all she could do to keep her face calm and neutral as the memories of conversations and vulnerability and laughter swirled through her thoughts. This wasn’t fair. This really wasn’t fair. She wanted to be mad at him for daring to dive back into their past like him leaving meant nothing, but how could she? How could she be mad when those memories still brought her joy?

“Almond milk, pineapple, kale, and mango, with a dash of honey. My favourite. Maybe you’re not the worst. You really remembered this?”

“Of course I did. I loved our smoothie dates,” Freddie nodded, smiling.

Dates?

“Dates?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Figure of speech? I don’t speak English?” he offered.

“Yeah nice try, I’m pretty sure your English is better than most people I know,” Kendra mused.

Freddie blushed but laughed.

“How could I forget anything about the girl who got me doing the best Bridge pose of my life, hm?”

She tried valiantly not to think about how good Freddie looked bent over in a backwards arch. Valiantly.

“Alright, but don’t think this means I’ll go easy on you, Freddie,” she said brightly, “We’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he grinned, “Give it to me rough.”

Kendra took a moment, trying to hold in her laughter, before she gave in and cackled.

“Oh man that was so bad, even for you,” she grinned.

“Not my finest, I’ll give you that,” Freddie shrugged, a light blush on his cheeks, “Still made you laugh though.”

Well he wasn’t wrong there.

Kendra sipped on her drink while Freddie laid out his mat, leaving the cup in a safe spot as she moved to stand in front of him.

“As always, let’s start with Sun Salutation,” she grinned.

The next hour flew by. As she promised him, Kendra did push him hard – some of the poses he wasn’t quite ready for, she could see that, at least even for the length of time they were trialling today. His natural flexibility hadn’t left him, that much was obvious, but there was still work to do. At least she could take pride in being part of rehabilitation that would never push him further than he was ready for. His safety, physical and mental, was the most important thing.

But he could do this. She knew that he could do this, and that excited her.

“Alright, that’s us done for today. Thanks, Freddie,” Kendra said softly.

Freddie opened his eyes, practically floating from savasana, face flushed from exertion.

“Thank you, Kendra. I feel awesome. Tired but awesome,” he grinned.

“Not aching too much anywhere?” she asked, standing up gracefully.

Freddie groaned as he stood up, rolling his shoulders as he checked in with himself. Kendra smiled wryly at the action – at least she could trust an athlete to know his own body.

“No, not too much,” he said.

“Are you sure?” she frowned, hands on hips.

“I promise. I know the difference between aching from a good workout to aching from injury and pain. This is good,” Freddie insisted.

Well alrighty then.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Kendra said happily, rolling her neck from side to side to loosen tension, “Take a shower, Andersen, I can smell you from here.”

Freddie barked out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement.

“Care to join me?”

“In your dreams.”

Freddie just smirked, sending a shiver down her spine. There. That was it, the spark she’d been missing for so many years.

“See you on Wednesday?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Freddie nodded.

~

From: Freddie I have a return date March 7th

From: Kendra That’s amazing! I told you that you could do it! These last eight sessions have really paid off! Do you feel ready?

From: Freddie As always, I should’ve trusted that you were right lol I think so? My body does for certain

From: Kendra And your mind? If you don’t feel mentally ready, Freddie, please don’t let them push you

From: Freddie Thanks, I appreciate that I think it’s more nerves than not mentally ready? Like, I don’t want to let the team down. And I don’t want critics to call me washed up

From: Kendra You could never let the team down They can see your passion, see how hard you’re working And screw the critics. They don’t know you or your body You are the furthest thing from washed up, so don’t talk about yourself like that

From: Freddie I’ve missed your fire. Yes ma’am

From: Kendra Damn right you have. That’s more like it

From: Freddie Can I still finish off my course of session with you? And maybe carry on for a few more afterwards? Just to make sure I still have that confidence?

From: Kendra As many as you want I’m here for whatever you need

From: Freddie Whatever I need? I like the sound of that

~

“So today’s your last official yoga rehab session with Freddie. How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, it’s all gone really well. It’s been nice reconnecting with him, as well as seeing him grow back into his conditioning and confidence. You were right, Mimi, this was a great idea,” Kendra grinned.

Mimi and Celeste both smiled at her, but the smiles quickly turned hesitant. What? What was wrong?

“Has he said something? Have the Canes said something?” she asked, starting to worry.

Had she done something wrong and he hadn’t had the guts to tell her?

“No, no, god no. Freddie’s had nothing but high praise for you since he got here and I have no doubt he’ll be saying the same to his team,” Celeste said quickly.

“He talks about me?” Kendra asked, not knowing whether to ignore the butterflies in her stomach or not.

“He does. And he always has a smile on his face when he leaves here, same as you. We just…”

“Just what?” she prompted.

“We just want you to be careful,” Celeste said, finishing her sister’s sentence.

 What the hell?

Mimi winced at Kendra's expression before clearing her throat.

“When I met you, it was obvious that part of you was missing,” Mimi said softly, Celeste nodding.

What?

“What do you mean?” Kendra frowned.

“This fun flirty side of you? These beaming smiles? It’s great, don’t get me wrong, but seeing you around Freddie makes so much sense,” Mimi explained.

Okay that was crazy.

“We really are just friends,” Kendra said, shaking her head.

Mimi and Celeste send her matching disbelieving looks.

“No, really,” Kendra said, shrugging, “We always had this flirty banter but it was never anything more than that.”

“Never anything more?” Celeste said, raising an eyebrow, “Not even once?”

“No!” Kendra laughed, “He would come to my yoga classes, we’d get coffee or smoothies occasionally, sometimes lunch, but never anything more.”

“I really don’t think you see what we see. What no doubt everyone sees when they watch the two of you,” Mimi said.

“You can’t fake that kind of chemistry, Kendra. He clearly has feelings for you,” Celeste added.

What?

He had feelings for her?

And everyone saw it?

Mimi and Celeste watched her obvious turmoil with soft pitying smiles.

“Think about it. Just think about it. That’s all we’re saying,” Mimi said, her voice warm and reassuring, “And be careful?”

“You’re our girl, okay? We just want you to be happy,” Celeste said, smiling.

“Uh yeah, sure. I’ll think about it,” Kendra murmured.

It was all she could do to walk in a straight line for their staff kitchen, desperately needing a cold bottle of water to sip on while she sorted through her thoughts.

She’d always found Freddie attractive. That was something she could admit to without hesitation. But it was something she’d buried deep, knowing she could never act on it. Bringing that acknowledgement back up to the surface was terrifying, because it wasn’t just a physical attraction – it was everything about him. If she let herself think about how attracted she was to him, let herself think about his laugh, and his kindness, and his terrible taste in coffee, and his soft smile when he talked about his family, and literally everything else about him…she felt like she would explode.

How was she supposed to behave normally around him in their last scheduled yoga session, when all of these dangerous feelings were bubbling at the surface?

No, she had to find a way. She couldn’t ruin everything, not when she’d just got him back into her life. She just couldn’t.

Somehow, she managed to keep a lid on her emotions for her entire day until Freddie’s session at the end of her evening, running through the most challenging routines that pushed him to his limit, but left him with a smile on his face. He was ready. He was really ready for his return to play in two days time.

So why did it feel like everything was ending?

Freddie had stayed mostly quiet, focusing on his movements, but there were times in between flows that she caught him staring at her as if he was thinking. Thinking hard. It was almost off-putting, if it didn’t make her feel giddy. Were her friends right? Were her feelings really reciprocated?

Whatever was going through his mind, she didn’t know, but even she could feel a trembling intensity between the two of them that she couldn’t put a finger on. It felt like…anticipation.

When their class was over, Freddie insisted on waiting for her to grab all of her things, Mimi and Celeste just smirking as he waved goodbye to them, escorting her out to her car. This time he apparently hadn’t parked that far away from her, so he was insistent on walking her properly, although it could definitely be classed as more of an extremely slow stroll rather than a walk.

Like he was drawing this out as much as she was.

“You must be freezing,” Freddie murmured, “Here take my jacket.”

Before Kendra could form a word of protest at his sudden words, Freddie was slipping his jacket off and placing it over her shoulders. The warmth immediately hit her body, thrumming through her veins, and she knew without a doubt that her burning cheeks gave her thoughts away.

“There. Better?”

It was all Kendra could do to nod, staying silent as Freddie made a grunt of approval. Why was this affecting her so much? It was a just a jacket. It was just a jacket, right? It didn’t stop her sinking into the warmth though, picking up the scent of his cologne, ignoring the way her heart started beating that little bit faster.

She had to say something. She had to say something.

“Freddie…I need to ask you a question,” she said softly.

“Go for it,” he mused.

“Did you know it was me when you agreed to do a yoga rehab course?”

“What?”

Kendra exhaled a little shakily, but shook her head. She needed to know.

“When your team suggested yoga classes as part of your rehab treatment plan, how did you pick a teacher? Did you know I would be running this for you?”

“Ah.”

A single word. How ominous.

But Kendra just stayed silent, unwilling to say anything else before he did. She needed to know. It would change everything.

“The team gave me a list of options, with short descriptions about the teacher and any feedback from other clients. And…the moment I saw your name on the list, I didn’t have to think any further or look at anyone else,” he murmured.

“What?”

Freddie let out a shaky breath, halting his walk, so Kendra stopped next to him. What did he mean by that?

“I took it as a sign from the universe that I finally had a chance to make up for letting our friendship fizzle out. You were one of the best parts about Anaheim for me, and I was so wrapped up in my head in Toronto that I was stupid enough to let our friendship go. To let you go. I wanted to see you again. I knew that you would be amazing from the yoga side of things, but to get the chance to say that I’m sorry? I couldn’t pass that up.”

As he spoke, his words clear and his expression more serious than she’d ever seen, her heart started racing like it never had before. He really meant all of that, didn’t he? He really chose her?

“You have nothing to apologise for,” she eventually said, a little more breathless than she would care to admit.

“Yes, I do,” Freddie replied, huffing out a laugh, “You deserved better than I treated you.”

He looked relieved, like her being mad at him was even a possibility (not with them, never with him), but she just shook her head. Yeah, it had hurt at the time, when she finally resigned to losing contact with him – but that was over 7 years ago. With time, that hurt had faded into an ache, which in turn faded to occasional wistfulness. She could never hold a grudge against him for a trade, and certainly not for following his dream. That just wasn’t who Kendra was.

She started walking again, Freddie wasting no time in joining her, even though their steps were practically glacial in speed.

“Maybe I deserved a little better communication but it was so long ago, Freddie. I’m not holding onto past grudges. And honestly, the fact that you chose me because you wanted to reconnect? That’s all I needed.”

“Really?” he asked, voice hopeful.

“Really really,” she grinned, “Although I’m sure you can think of something to make it up to me.”

A grin spread across Freddie’s face too, making her feel a little giddy.

“Anything you wanted, Kendra Lee.”

“That is a dangerous offer, Frederik Andersen,” she shot back.

He just shrugged, grin not leaving his face. “You know I’m good for it.”

This, these flirty exchanges, served to do nothing other than light her blood on fire. Why was it always so easy to slip back into this with him like nothing had changed? That was a good thing, right?

“Come out with me on St Patrick’s Day night,” she blurted.

He raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed, but she just laughed.

“I’m going to a karaoke bar with Mimi and Celeste – join us,” she explained.

“That’s what you want? Out of all the things you could’ve asked for…you want me to join you for karaoke,” he said incredulously.

Kendra inhaled sharply at the implication in his words but nodded anyway, hoping she wasn’t making a huge mistake.

“I do. It’ll be fun, to see you outside of work, and to do something with you that we’ve never done before. We already have a little booth booked and it’ll be better than cramming into a regular bar for St Patrick’s Day,” she said firmly.

He laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief, before eventually nodding.

“Alright, I’ll be there. Text me the address,” he mused.

Kendra just grinned, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach as they finally reached her car.

“Thanks for lending me your jacket, Freddie.”

“Any time.”

~

By the time the evening of the 17th March rolled around, Kendra was buzzing. She'd not seen Freddie since his debut back on the ice, him having given the three of them tickets to say thank you. Watching him win? It was everything, and she couldn't have been prouder of him. But with his schedule and hers, he hadn't scheduled any more classes like he'd said he'd wanted to, so Kendra had been limited to text messages, hoping that her daydreams weren't just silly fantasies.

Kendra, Mimi, and Celeste had been in O'Malley's for an hour, and Freddie still hadn’t arrived. The longer that time went on, the more disappointed she felt, not wanting to believe that after everything they’d regrown between them that he would just ghost her. No, that wasn’t Freddie. It couldn’t be Freddie.

“Breathe. Have a drink. He promised he’d be here, right?” Celeste said with a sweet smile.

“He did. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have changed his mind,” Kendra sighed.

“Hey, no sad faces. It’s St Patrick’s Day and we’re having a good time!” Mimi said cheerfully.

Kendra just groaned, taking a big gulp of her beer, her friends just cheering. They were right. She couldn’t dwell on this. If Freddie was going to come or whether he wasn’t, she was still out with her friends to have a good time. That was what she needed to focus on.

“Up next, Kendra singing Red!”

“Ooh girl that’s you, go!” Mimi squealed.

Kendra took a deep breath to steel herself, sliding out of their booth with a confident smile. If anyone could make her feel better, it would be Taylor Swift, she knew that much. As the intro music starting playing, she focused on letting it flow through her, tapping her foot in time with the beat.

“Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street, Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly, Loving him is like trying to change your mind, Once you're already flying through the free fall, Like the colors in autumn, so bright, just before they lose it all.”

As if summoned by magic, the door to the pub opened, and Freddie walked in. Within seconds he saw her standing on the karaoke stage and stopped in his tracks, offering her a small stunned smile. He came. He didn’t ghost her. Freddie actually came as she asked him. That had to mean something, right?

“Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes, Tell myself it's time now gotta let go, But moving on from him is impossible, When I still see it all in my head, In burning red, Burning, it was red.”

She found herself pouring her emotions into the words, pouring everything she felt about Freddie into the song, not able to take her eyes off him. By now, Mimi and Celeste had noticed how she was performing just for Freddie – she could see their grins from across the room – and a few other patrons were starting to notice too. But she couldn’t stop herself. Her body felt almost out of control, singing her heart out to the only man who’d ever truly held it.

“Oh, losing him was blue, like I'd never known, Missing him was dark gray, all alone, Forgetting him was like trying to know, Somebody you never met, 'Cause loving him was red, Yeah, yeah, red, Burning red.”

His eyes were almost wild, locked onto her like she was the only person in the room. It was a heady feeling, giving her the confidence she needed to finish the song with a smile.

“And that's why he's spinning 'round in my head, Comes back to me, burning red, Yeah, yeah.”

She curtseyed dramatically to cheers and applause as the song ended, a wide grin on her face, and she moved to step off the stage, Freddie was already there with a hand extended to help her down. She took it silently, inhaling sharply as Freddie didn’t let go – instead her guided her across the room to the bar, the crowd parting with whatever intensity was on his face, so much so that they were served immediately.

“Two baby guinnesses,” Freddie asked politely.

The barman just laughed, nodding as he poured the shots, Freddie not letting go of her hand even as he paid for their drinks. He passed her one of the shots with a hopeful smile, the sweetness in his eyes intoxicating, so she clinked the glass gently with his, the cool liquid sliding down her throat smoothly.

“I wasn’t sure if you would make it,” Kendra said, offering him a small smile.

“I was thinking. Thinking about a lot of things. And I have something I need to say,” Freddie murmured, voice barely audible above the rumble of the room’s conversation.

“Oh?” she said, breath caught in her throat.

“I need to be honest with you, Kendra. I don’t think I can do any more classes with you.”

Oh. Everything in her chest felt like it was crumbling, Kendra barely able to get a breath in.

Wait, what?

“It would be incredible unprofessional of me,” Freddie added.

“Unprofessional? Freddie, if I’ve done something-”

The last thing Kendra was expecting was for Freddie to cut off her words with a kiss.

And not just any kiss. A toe-curling, melt into his arms, curl her fingers into his shirt kind of kiss. As his hands cupped her face and his lips moved with hers, it was all she could do to let out a soft little moan, interrupted only at the chorus of cheers and whistles around them. Freddie broke the kiss with a soft laugh, Kendra just feeling dazed, but his shy smile just made her giddy all over again.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long. I just didn’t think I could,” he admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

They were right. Mimi and Kendra were right.

“What changed?” she managed to ask.

“We changed,” he said. “We’ve both grown so much in ourselves since I left Anaheim and I am proud of both of us for taking what we need to make ourselves happy and successful. But I don’t want to lie to myself any more, thinking that I don’t need you too.”

“You need me?” she said, surprised.

“I do, in every way. I was an idiot for so many years, Kendra. I don’t want to waste any more time,” he said seriously.

“Jesus, Freddie, knock a girl for six why don’t you,” she said, huffing out a laugh.

He froze at her words, clearly fearing the worst, but Kendra just grinned. How could she be anything but excited?

“I’m yours, Freddie Andersen. I always have been,” she said happily.

The smile that spread across his face was worth a thousand lifetimes. This was what she had been waiting for. Exactly this.

“Now, buy me another drink and sing a song with me, and I’ll consider kissing you again,” Kendra grinned.

He laughed in disbelief but grinned so widely in response that it made her giddy. “One blue moon pale ale, coming right up.”

Her favourite girls night drink? How did he remember everything she’d ever said?  They were really doing this. They were finally doing this. 

“You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?” she laughed.

“Probably. You love it though.”

That she did.

[euphroseia]

Unrequited love, what about it?

Minho x gn!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Genre: non-idol!au, high school au, fluff, angst

Warnings: none that i can think of (please tell me if i missed one!)

a bit self-indulgent, a bit not. i listened to this song while i was writing this. if you want, you can listen to it too as you read ^^

Unrequited love, they say. 

But for you, it was all just admiration from afar, making that person an inspiration for your poems, or maybe the muse to your art.

You first laid your eyes on him during your senior year at high school. The school’s dance team captain, who’s not just known for his exceptionally good performance with what he loves doing, but also the good-looking and caring senior everybody admires. 

Running through the hallway with your friends for a class you’re all gonna be late to in five minutes, leads you to the direction where the practice room is located. You heard music playing and at first you thought no one was inside, then you took a peek at the small glass of the door; someone was there slow dancing, trying to figure out the rhythm of the music that was playing at a low volume. You can’t help but to watch more because of the way his body was just swaying around, like it was flowing with the sound of the music. Then he turned around and there you saw him—Lee Minho, what a sight for sore eyes, indeed. 

That moment was cut short after your friend dragged you, reminding you that you’re almost late for your class.

From that moment, you noted to yourself to always take that route at the exact same time every day.

You thought you’d be fine with admiring him from afar. Watching the dance team on every competition they joined, peeking through the door of their practice room, and taking the long way to your classroom just so you could pass his classroom and see him—until it wasn’t enough.

You knew you had to do something to bring you two closer. Knowing he’s smart, you studied hard just so maybe you could be classmates for the next semester.

Unrequited love, they say. 

But how can that be love when you only want to watch him at his element? Your friends beg to differ. They say all you talk about was him. “How come he still looks that good even when he’s sweating a lot?” that, “Have you guys seen the way he smiles and laughs?” this, and the list goes on.

You just can’t help it. How could you? He’s good, great even, with what he does. Always on the top of the class, respectful to everyone, and very patient with teaching the dance steps to his team members. 

How can you not love a guy like him, right?

Did you just say love? You never even noticed it. People said at that rate of admiration you had for him, it’ll only be a matter of days that you’ll fall for him; and fall you did—hard, head first, no turning back.

Lucky you, in your last semester as a high school student, your school shuffles the class sections, and just like an answered prayer, you and Minho are in the same class. On top of it all, both of you were elected as the class officers; him as the president and you as the vice president.

Having to do a lot of tasks together as officers of the class brought you closer to each other. Meetings with the officers of other classes sometimes end up late at night. He’d walk you to your bus stop and wait until the bus arrives and leaves with you in it. He would sometimes ask you to watch the dance team practice a new choreography, or help him learn it alone. And at times like that, your brain short circuits and your heart beats faster with the thought of being alone with him.

These interactions made you fall for him even more. Seeing the guy for more than just his looks, and experiencing first hand how good of a person he actually is.

Unrequited love, they say. 

For the way you look at Minho is totally different from how he does to you. They say you look at him as if he’s someone you’d willingly risk everything you have for him, and if you’re being honest, they might just be right. On the other hand, they said he looks at you as how a best friend would do—adoring you and being proud of the things you achieve. Platonically in love with you but never romantically.

Your feelings for him gets deeper as months go by. Today, it was one of those late nights after a meeting with the other officers. Everything’s getting busier as your graduation approaches. As usual, Minho walks you to the bus stop. 

Your bus arrives and he pulls you into his arms and you gladly welcome the warmth of his hug. It has become a habit of the both of you to hug each other before you part ways. This time, he held you a little longer, and if you’d allow yourself to be a bit delusional, you swear you could feel his lips press a kiss on top of your head. 

When you let go, you looked up at him and saw him smiling just as widely as you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he said. “Of course,” you answered and waved him goodbye as you ran towards the bus. 

Unrequited love, they say. 

And for the first time, you agreed to them. For you watched it unveil before your eyes as he falls in love with the girl that’s part of his team. The way you see yourself in him as he looks at her with admiration and love. Like he’s willing to give everything to her—just as you would to him.

Your physics teacher is not coming today, he informed Minho through a message just a while ago. So, you have the whole period as free time to do anything. You were scrolling on your phone, watching different videos or reacting to funny memes shared on your newsfeed when you felt someone sit beside you. Not really in the right state of mind to talk to him after you heard the gossip about the “none-other-than Minho” dating his prettiest co-dancer, you decided to just continue scrolling through your phone. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he called to which you just hummed in response.

“Can you tell me your opinion about this?” He asked and showed you a bouquet of flowers flashed on his phone screen from a popular shop on instagram. 

“It’s pretty. The colors of the flowers compliment each other the same way the wrap does to them.” You said as you really liked the flowers he’s showing you right now. “Why? What’s with the sudden question about flowers?” You asked, knowing exactly you’ll only hurt yourself from the answer he would say.

“Oh, do you remember Reigne?” You would ignore it if given the chance, but you can’t. Not when you notice how lovingly he said her name. Not when he had to pause a little just to smile after her name fell from his lips. “I heard her and her friends talking about how beautiful these flowers are. I’ve thought of giving it to her after our performance this Saturday.” There it is, the sting of pain in your chest. Of course, it’s for her. What else did you expect?

“I bet she’ll love that and make her heart beat faster once you give that to her,” you said in all honesty, because it’s Minho. Who wouldn’t love to receive a bouquet of flowers from him? Who’s heart wouldn’t flutter when you realize the flowers he’s holding were especially for you?

His smile widens and you see the twinkle of his eyes—pure of love and excitement to the thought you had just given him. “You think so?” He asked, smiling giddily.

“I know so,” you respond and return his smile. 

“Okay!” He exclaimed and hugged you “Thanks, Y/N, you’re the best,” he said as he went back to his proper seat.

Unrequited love, they say.

When you can watch him become happier each day even if you’re not the reason behind his smiles, then, what about it?

You were fine with watching him from afar just months ago, it wouldn’t hurt to be on the sidelines of his life for the rest of it. 

But Saturday came, the day you dreaded the most as it reminded you of his plan. You wouldn’t miss a competition your best friend worked hard for just because of your silly, little, one-sided feelings for him. You hate to be that kind person, so you wouldn’t be that kind of person. You’d want to support him, even from afar, just like before.

They were great, you knew that, everybody knows about that already . After all the competing teams have performed, you had expected their win. So, you went outside to get some fresh air; it was hot inside after all, considering that many people came for this is the last competition for this season. 

You heard the name of your school and their dance team gets proclaimed as the champions. You smiled to yourself from the thought that you saw that coming. It was his last competition with this dance team, of course, he would do his best for them to win this—and win, they did.

You stayed outside a little longer than you expected, you saw everyone leave the venue and go home. But for some reason, you stayed there and it was getting dark already. You heard little noises from afar, as if your feet had their own brain, they walked to the direction of the noise. 

There you saw Minho, the one you’ve been admiring from afar, the man behind all your love poems, the one whose nose you try so hard to perfect when you sketch him as he sleeps, the person you tried so hard to deny that you love, yet fail miserably—your best friend.

You witness as he takes a deep breath and moves forward little by little to the person in front of him. It was Reign. In his hand, he holds the bouquet of flowers. Oh, so this was how he planned it. You thought to yourself as you watched Minho approach her carefully and give the flowers to her.

Everything unveiling before you wasn’t that surprising at all, after all, he told you about this plan already. It was you who said she’ll like the flowers and indirectly said, she’d love Minho as much as he does to her. Yet, what you didn’t expect was to see him kiss her. You had learned to accept that your feelings would never be reciprocated by him, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Because a few months ago, when you tried to dance with him in the practice room alone, when you looked at each other a little longer than necessary and faces were too close to each other, you thought that you could actually kiss him at that moment.

That night, you cried so much you actually thought your heart was breaking. You convinced yourself that time would pass and all of this was just part of your silly, little inevitable part of life as high school students.

Unrequited love, they say. 

You don’t agree nor deny it anymore. 

You just want it all to be over and move onto the next chapters of your life.

Your graduation passed just like the blink of an eye. You and your batch mates are all gathered at the school for the traditional final class picture before you all part ways and go to college or work. You honestly didn’t want to go. You almost didn’t go to your graduation because you didn’t want to see Minho anymore. Thinking about how effective it would be to forget your feelings for him if you avoid him. But, of course, you can’t do that. You have done so much to have come this far. Setting aside your feelings and goal of eliminating them, you attended the graduation. 

Today, you really didn’t want to come. Not because you didn’t want to see Minho, but because of what will be the outcome of your plan. You bought the book he’s been talking about to you that he didn’t want to buy because “it’s a waste of money” he said. So you bought it, it’s your money you’re wasting and not his in the end. There, you inserted a poem you made for him. Thought that maybe through this, you’d be over him.

The picture taking was over and all that’s left to do was to give him your present. 

“Hey, Min,” you called for him when you saw him standing in the middle of your classroom. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled as he turned around and opened his arms inviting you to hug him.

You approached him and hugged him tight. You wanted to savor this moment, scared that it might be the last. When you pulled away, you handed him the small paper bag.

“Got you a little something. A parting gift, you may say,” you said, looking down as you fiddle with your fingers.

“What’s this?” He opened the bag and saw the book. “I-thank you, Y/N!” He said and pulled you in another hug. “I didn’t get you something though, how about I treat you to eat?” He suggested and you’d love to say yea. But you can’t. It’s selfish, you know, but you think it’s for the best.

“I’d love to, Min, but I really have to go now.” Tone a bit down, expressing that you really regret not being able to accept his offer. “I hope you read that well,” you said and looked into his eyes. 

Hugging him one last time, and then you waved him goodbye as you ran out the door trying not to spill the tears that’s been threatening to fall when you looked at him.

Still a bit shocked by how fast you ran outside, and he swore he saw your eyes watered. He was left there standing alone again in the classroom as he removed the book from the plastic it was wrapped with. He remembers talking about it to you but never expected that you would get it for him. He opened the book and noticed something was inserted between the center page of it.

It was a small card, he’s familiar with the handwriting in it; it was yours. He read what’s written on it and he didn’t even notice he was crying until he saw the tear fall on the card. 

If they ask me to talk about love,

I’d talk about us.

Or more lovingly, from my perspective, I'd talk about you.

I’d tell them how I see stars in your eyes when you talk about the new dance step you learned.

The way you’d smile so brightly, I almost thought I was facing the sun.

The way you passionately do something you love, and show everyone you’re great at it.

The way you excel at everything, but will never forget to still be kind and humble.

If they ask me to talk about love,

I’d say your name in the blink of an eye.

Minho, how lovely your name is.

Even if that’s just how I’ll always be,

I’d tell everyone how amazing being your friend is.

Unrequited love, they say. In an unrequited love, I would choose to stay.

[thebluestbluewords]

hey what if this wasn’t the first time Jay’s run into potential academic trouble at Auradon Prep??

“Jay, can you stay back for a moment? I just want to ask you a question about your test.” 

Miss Lacey Harvey’s most troublesome student pulls up short, so quickly that he overcorrects and has to stick one booted foot out in an exaggerated motion to counterbalance himself. She hears him murmur something to one of his buddies, another boy from one of the sports teams, wearing a matching jacket. Lacey doesn’t often pay attention to what her students are wearing, but she’s only teaches one of the students from the Isle of the Lost this semester, and it was quite a change the first day that he showed up in a blue and gold school varsity jacket instead of his typical black and red leather. 

Lacey waits. It’s no trouble to let her students say goodbye to their friends before she pulls them aside for a little history come-to-god moment. 

Sure enough, Jay turns around a moment later.

“You wanted to see me, miss?” 

Ah. 

“Yes.” Lacey says firmly. “You’ll get the test back, don’t worry about that. I just need you to walk me through what I’m seeing here first.” 

Jay leans down to look at the test Lacey has laid out on the desk in front of her. He’s a good looking boy, and he knows it, so she wishes she could be surprised when he looks up at her through those dark lashes with a proud little smile. “I crushed it, yeah?”

She takes in a deep breath. Time to crush the academic dreams of a boy who’s never been to a prep school before, who by all accounts is probably doing his best given the circumstances, and who still, despite all the extenuating circumstances working against him, goes out of his way to be a pain in her ass every class period.  “Well, you could say that. Your answers on the multiple choice section were good, you did well there, but… I have to ask. It looks like you missed this section here, where you were supposed to answer some questions about the passage.” 

“What, no way. Miss, that’s bull–” he catches himself, audibly swallowing the second half of his words. “--crap. It’s bullcrap, miss. I answered the hell out of this test.” 

Lacey looks up into the honest, open face of her student. All of the boys in her late morning section are so tall this year, she’s constantly looking up at them when they stand by her desk. The thought strikes her that she really ought to get a stepstool, and save her neck the trouble. 

She files the idea away for later. Later, when she doesn’t have a student in front of her. And not just any student, but one that’s been giving her trouble since the start of the year. The trouble, you see, with teaching teenagers is that they’re quick to spin you a tale the moment they think they might be in trouble. Lacey’s heard a lot of teenagers put on the song and dance for her, and if this one is lying, then he’s doing a very good job of it. 

A little intimidation will usually break the weak ones. 

“You have to understand that we take academic integrity very seriously here at Auradon Prep,” Lacey explains, putting on her best stern, spectacle-wearing teacher expression. “I expect each and every one of my students to bring their best into my classroom. If you have anything to tell me about your test, I would prefer to settle this outside of the honor board. I’m sure you would prefer the same.” 

Lacey watches 

Jay furrows his face, squinting down at the test. “Miss, I just missed the page. It must have been stuck together or something. I’ll redo it for you.” 

Right. 

No. 

“Jay, this is the problem with your tests. You are constantly skipping sections and missing questions. If I didn’t know better, I would think that you’re just skipping over all the questions that you don’t want to answer.” 

He snaps his mouth down into a hard line. “Miss, it was a mistake, I promise.” 

“I want to believe you,” Lacey says slowly, allowing her student a chance to stop digging the hole he’s created even deeper. “But—“

Jay’s face goes hard, and then evens out into a tremulous version of his usual cocky smile. “But you don’t trust villains. I get it.” 

“No, it’s not like that,” Lacey hurries to reassure him. “It’s just that I’ve seen a pattern on your tests, and I wanted to address it before the problem gets out of hand, that’s all.” 

“But I’m the only one here.” 

“I prefer not to humiliate students in front of their peers,” she snaps, before she can think better of herself. “If you would prefer that I do otherwise, please, tell me, and I would be happy to waste valuable class time that your peers could spend learning on disciplining you instead.” 

The boy in front of her drops his head. “Go for it. Discipline me.” 

No. 

She—

No. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. 

Villains, even the young ones, have a way of getting under your skin. 

“I will not.” Lacey says calmly, taking a moment to catch her breath. “Punish you for missing a question. I am here to teach you, not to dole out punishment for what you claim was an honest mistake. I’m giving you an extra study hall. Come to the study room after dinner tonight, and I’ll have one of my tutors there to help you go over the questions you’ve missed.” 

Jay straightens up, and it’s like the past few moments never happened, and he never dropped the cocky, confident face of the boy who roughhouses with his teammates in the back of her classroom. “I have a game.” 

“After that.” Lacey assures him. “The extra study hall isn’t a punishment. I am here to give you a learning opportunity. Sports games end at what, seven pm?” 

He grins. “Would you believe me if I said eight?” 

Lacey may be a history teacher, but she isn’t stupid. “I would not. Stay here while I write out your tutoring slip, and I’ll have a TA meet you in the western study room at seven thirty.” 

He shrugs, bright and easy. “Worth a shot. I’ll learn more with a cute girl as a tutor.” 

Lacey crosses Jane Fey off her list of potential TA students. “You will not.” 

“Will so.” 

“Absolutely not, and if you continue along this line, I’ll tutor you myself.” 

He flashes her a look that’s not exactly an assessment, but it does linger on her entirely too long for comfort. “You won’t find me complaining about that, Miss.” 

Lacey shrugs back a shiver. The little villains go out of their way to behave unnervingly, she knows this, and she won’t allow it to get under her skin this time. “Take this,” she commends, holding out the study slip. “And get out of my classroom before you’re late for next period.” 

He does.

Lacey lets out a breath she hasn’t consciously been holding once the door clicks shut. Villains, even little ones, aren’t a handful that she’s overjoyed to need to continue dealing with. 

With that thought in mind, she opens her school email account. 

“Dear Fairy Godmother,” Lacey whispers to herself as she types. “I am writing to inform you of an incident occurring today, which pertains to the trial run of the four children from the isle of the lost….” 

Yes. 

She’ll keep the higher-ups well informed of this incident.  It’s her duty as a teacher, nothing more, to keep her administration informed of how the new students are settling in. 

And if she recommends that some students in particular may not be suited for a preparatory environment, well, that’s just her opinion as an educated member of the educational staff. No more, no less. She’d like to see every student succeed in the classroom, but she’s made the same recommendation for a few royal children who couldn’t keep up with their academics, and those few were seen very tidily off to lower-ranked classrooms, and eventually their home kingdom’s local colleges, framed as a very humble move, of course, to support local educational institutions within their home kingdoms. An emphasis on their humility and loyalty to their kingdoms of birth.

She’d like to see each and every one of her students succeed. Naturally. 

She’s just setting up a few backup plans. 

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Epilogue

I want to thank everyone for the lovely support. I saw a couple questions about the other characters in the comment section of the last one and wanted to clear up a couple of things. Crystal=Argyle (he picked the name because he thought it sounded cool), Onyx=Dimitri (like @n0-1-important guessed in part 11). Diamond and his family were all OCs more on them here. Michelle (the whiny chick in the art class) is the only other OC. I tried as much as possible to include characters from the show when I could.

And to answer @ goodolefashionedloverboi‘s question: Jonathan and Nancy are in couple’s therapy and are doing better.

And then one final thing to explain (the curses of doing a WIP and posting it one at a time not every thread I put down got picked up again, oops!) is the garnet rings. I love gem stones and geology. It fascinates me so much so that I took it as an elective in high school. When I was researching a fic (don’t remember which one now) I was looking at Eddie’s rings. And a lot of people were making replicas with hard stones like hematite, onyx, or something that didn’t have cuts or facets. But Eddie’s ring sparkles. It’s clearly a gemstone. So I went looking up grey or black gemstones. I found a couple it could be but they weren’t discovered until the 90s (and while the ACTUAL stone the prop maker used could be that, I COULDN’T call it that). And then I found a grey garnet. It was a perfect match. It sparkles the way his does, the different shades it gets from the show, spot on. Hence the garnet.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12  Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17

*

Two years later:

Variety Interview with Corroded Coffin

Max Mayfield: Hello, can you guys introduce yourselves for the people that have been hiding under a rock for the last two years?

They all laugh.

Jeff: I’m Jeff Lawrence, I’m rhythm guitar.

Gareth: I’m Gareth Hughes, I’m on drums.

Brian: I’m Brian Martin, I’m the bass guitarist.

Eddie: And I’m Eddie Munson, frontman, lead guitar, lead vocalist, and songwriter.

MM: That’s a lot of titles for one person.

JL: That’s because he’s the most dramatic out of all of us. He has to have allll the titles. Can’t share with the rest of us.

EM: Hey!

They all laugh again.

BM: Hey, you know it’s true.

EM: Yeah...but you’re giving away all my secrets right off the bat. Can’t you save some for later in the interview.

The other three look at each other.

JL, BM, GH: No.

Eddie throws his arms in the air.

EM: I’m telling Steve!

The other three look mock frightened for all of three seconds before they start laughing at him.

JL: You know Steve would agree with us.

Eddie pouts

MM: Can you tell us who Steve is?

Eddie fiddles with the singular ring on his right hand, looking down, bashfully. It one that I haven’t seen. Everyone is familiar with the the three chunky rings on his left hand. But this one is on his ring finger. The grey stone flashes as he plays with it.  

EM: He’s the love of my life and my muse.

JL: He’s an art teacher back home.

BM: He’s our Eddie wrangler.

GH: He’s our band mascot.

I laugh.

MM: He sounds pretty special. How did you guys meet?

JL: We all went to high school together, actually.

MM: Oh, so were you high school sweethearts, then?

Eddie laughs.

GH: Yeah, no. He laughs.

BM: Let’s just say they started off on the wrong foot.

JL: The wrong everything, let’s be honest.

EM: Not my proudest moment. I was doing a favor for a family friend being a live model for an art class about five years later and assumed the worst about him.

MM: You mean there are actual art of you naked out there?

Eddie blushes.

EM: Several pieces in fact. But my favorite is Stevie’s. It’s still hanging up in our house in my studio.

GH: I’ve seen it. It’s not gross or anything.

JL: It won best in show at the art gala it was featured in.

BM: I think he’s totally wasted as an art teacher. He could be making more than we do selling his art work. But he loves working with kids.

MM: Sounds like the perfect guy.

EM: scoffs I love Steve, but he can be the most basic bitch. And he tends to be overprotective too.

GH: But we are here to talk about the new album.

MM: Fair enough. So tell me about working on Silent Killer. This is your second album, is that correct?

JL: Yeah, our self titled debut album just went double platinum. We knew going in it was going to be a tough act to follow.

GH: When we went platinum the first time, our manager Murray Bauman sent black flowers to all the record labels that passed on us.

EM: It was very suitably bitchy. It’s why he’s our manager.

MM: Certainly sounds like it. Do you guys deviate from your first album’s style in this one?

They look at each other and Eddie shrugs

EM: I mean, not really. It’s a more somber album to be sure. There was a song that we wanted to include on Corroded Coffin but decided it didn’t fit with the overall theme of the album that made its way on this one.

MM: Which song is that?

BM: Thorns and Thistles. It’s the song that got us our agent in the first place.

JL: Yeah. Murray was mad when the record label didn’t want to use it this time round. He fought tooth and nail to get on the album.

EM: Have you heard it yet?

I nod.

MM: Yeah. It’s beautifully heartbreaking. You say your label didn’t want to use it?

BM: They thought it was too sad.

JL: So to prove them wrong we sent it out as our first single, before we even started really working on the album.

MM: It had already gone gold before you announced the new record. That must have really got stuck in their craw.

EM: We’ve been laughing all the way to the bank.

MM: You guys won a Grammy for Song of the Year for The Jester and the King and Best New Artist. How was that for you?

BM: God I don’t know which of us bawled more on that stage. But it was everything we hoped for.

JL: Winning Song of the Year was a life changer. But no one thought we were going to win Best New Artist.

MM: No?

Eddie shakes his head.

EM: It rarely goes to a rock artist, especially a metal one. Everyone thought it would go to the kid...what’s his name...? He snaps his fingers.

JL: JJ Jenner.

EM: That’s the one. Fifteen year old kid with the pipes of an angel. Everyone, including us thought it would be him.

MM: Oh, I remember now, they put the kid’s reaction to losing on the jumbotron or whatever they call their big screen.

GH: I almost felt sorry for him.

Eddie grins.

EM: Almost.

MM: When you do red carpet events, Eddie, you bring your two lesbian friends with you, while the rest of the band brings their partners. Is there a reason you don’t bring yours? Especially since I learned your partner’s name is Steve.

All the members of the band shift uncomfortably in their seats, stealing glances at each as they silently decide who is going to answer the question.

MM: Oh. I feel like I stepped on a sensitive topic. I didn’t mean to.

Gareth clears his throat.

GH: Steve’s privacy is very important to us. There are times he would like to go to these things with Eddie...

JL: But he still gets attacks and can’t. He looks down at his hands. So he goes with the girls dress shopping and helps pick out their outfits for the night.

Eddie looks like he’s going to tear up.

EM: We’re working on it. He knew going to our relationship that this might become an issue but I always do what I can to make it up to him the moment I get home.

They all look somber, so I decide to change the direction of the interview.

MM: What’s next for the Corroded Coffin boys?

They brighten up almost immediately.

BM: Touring. We’ve got an American tour this spring and then a European tour this summer.

MM: Is there a reason you decided to wait on the European tour until summer?

Eddie blushes and the rest of the band nudge him playfully.

EM: It’s so Steve can come with us. He can’t leave during the school year, but he likes touring with us when it’s out for summer break.

MM: Ah ha.

The conversation turns to non-band related things again and I watch how close they are. It’s great to see a band that are still friends after years of playing together. Even though they’ve only been big for two years, they have been playing for twelve.

Let’s hope that they stay that way for the next twenty.

-Max Mayfield

The Final Tag List: @artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1 @scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster @evix-syne666 @nerdsconquerall @lololol-1234 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @a-little-unsteddie @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @elluminis @tailsfromthecrypt @danili666 @plyerice27 @alittlegreyfish  @n0-1-important @no-upper-limit-to-stupidity @maya-custodios-dionach @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @heaven428 @thedragonsaunt @ceaselessly-watching @imfinereallyy @messrs-weasley @sharingisntkaren @nohomoyesbi

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Little Earthquakes - Chapter One.

Besties! I was thrilled with the response to the prologue, thank you all so much! :) So, now the story starts properly. Sit back and get comfy!

Previous chapters - Prologue

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,972

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Minors DNI!

Immediately, her mouth dropped open. “Oh my flippin’ god! Hello!” There he was, the cute lad she’d been in the same class as at school. Except now he was even bloody cuter than he’d been at fifteen. God, those cheekbones were virtually criminal. And his eyes, wow! Had they always been that beautiful a shade of green, and she’d simply never noticed? “I thought I recognised your name when I was looking at your work, but I couldn’t place how, and where from, and I’m babbling, and oh my god, you’re Kelsey Chapman! I remember you, too!” 

She then turned to take in Chris, her mouth falling open yet again. “Chris Lawrence! Stop it, it’s a bloody Fulham Green Academy reunion!”  

“How are you, Holly? All good, ay?” he spoke, side eyeing Nathan and beaming, watching how he stood scratching the back of his neck. He always did it when he felt uncomfortable, usually when he couldn’t hide in his hair, being that his cascade of waist-length brown locks were all tied back. So, Holly still had the same effect, it seemed.  

“Yes, yes I’m good, thanks! It’s so nice to see you all,” she replied brightly as Nathan arrived with her.  

“Ready?” he asked, gesturing towards his station. 

She scrunched her nose a little. “Crapping myself to be honest! Right, where am I kotching?”  

“On the table. Lie back and get comfy, unless you’d rather sit up. Either way, I just need you to place your foot flat and bend your knee so I can press the line drawing on, check it flows okay and make sure you’re happy with it.”  

She’d emailed a few ideas to him, speaking the magic words that any tattoo artist liked to hear, that she trusted his judgement over what he came up with. Her only guide was that she wanted all the flowers to look like they were climbing up from her foot to her mid-calf.  

Since he specialised at realism, each flower would look just as she’d requested, like it had been painted on. The line drawing was a guide for him to work to only, so he could then freehand them into the allotted space. Once pressed into place, Holly took a look and confirmed she was happy, beginning to swallow hard. 

“Just take a few deep breaths, you’ll be fine,” he assured her. “It hurts, but not half as badly as some people make out.”  

“Says the man who nearly cried when I tattooed his ribs,” Kelsey called from her station, poking her tongue between her teeth. 

“Shit off,” he mumbled, looking back at Holly a little sheepishly. “Made my eyes water a bit, but any chance her over there has to make me look like a twat and she takes it.”  

“Love you!” her over there chirped, loading the needle with more ink. All Kelsey based disturbances aside and he began, doing a small section to the side of her foot and pausing. “All good?” 

Oh, no. It felt like somebody was dragging a hot knife through her flesh, but she nodded and smiled all the same. “Fine, yeah. I’m good.” He knew she wasn’t, but he was too nice to call her out on it.  

“So, you’re Holly Jenkins now?” he asked casually, remembering her name in the emails they’d exchanged. Of course, she’d be married. Women as beautiful as her didn’t remain single. “How long have you been married for?” 

“I was married for ten years, but we divorced last year. I haven’t gotten around to changing my name back as yet,” she spoke, resting her arm beneath her head.  

“Oh, sorry,” he replied, looking away briefly, watching her mouth twitch slightly. 

“Don’t be, I’m happy about it. I don’t think we were as well-suited as I once thought, so it was for the best, really.” 

“Hm, yeah,” he breathed, circling the top of the first petal, noticing her foot tense a little. To be expected. Foot tattoos weren’t the best. “I understand that. My wife and I separated three months ago after I reached the same conclusion. Proper shit, but that’s life, ain’t it?” 

“It is, and I’m sorry too, that you’re going through the same thing,” she offered, wincing slightly. “I can give you the number of a good divorce lawyer?” 

He laughed, a small burst of air through his nose. He could certainly do with one of those, to be fair. “Appreciated.” Continuing, he noticed she remained tense, pausing, patting her ankle softly with his black gloved hand. “Relax, ‘kay? Hurts more when you’re tense.”  

“I’ll try. Sorry, I probably look like a right knob to someone as heavily tattooed as you, y’know,” she confessed, Nathan beginning again. 

“Don’t mean I’m immune to pain, and it does hurt, like I said. Trust me, though, you don’t look like a knob. Had a girl in here two weeks ago who literally screamed like she was being murdered. Proper put me off, I'm telling you.”  

It reassured her a little, that her wincing and tensing was definitely at a lower level where reactions were concerned. He remained silent for a little time longer, Holly looking all around the studio, taking it in. It was a relaxed vibe, very dark academia in style with its black walls, dark wooden floors and counters, an abundance of artwork, plants dotted around everywhere and Edison lightbulbs suspended above each of the three stations.  

What caught her eye the most though, well, it was the man tattooing her. Back at school, it had always surprised her, just how lovely she thought he was, so cute with his shoulder length hair and big, green eyes. Even though it was all tied back in a half pulled through messy man bun at the nape of his neck, she wagered it was a lot longer now, but the bottle green eyes were still just as beautiful. Even more so going by her reaction at first seeing him, in fact, his eyelashes also impossibly long and inky. And bloody hell, the pout on the man. Those lips? One hundred percent kissable.  

“What are you doing for work these days, then?” he asked after a further few minutes of silence, loading the needle with dark red ink for the next flower.  

“I’m an illustrator,” she began, noticing that the pain was getting a little less. Well, either that or she was becoming more used to the hot scratches goring at her skin, one of the two. “I mainly do adult colouring and children’s books, but I also contribute for other literature and cover art as well. I just accepted a role doing the digital art for a woman’s E-Magazine, too, which has been great so far.”  

“Yeah? That’s proper sick,” he enthused, pausing to smile up at her. Oh, that smile. It lit up his entire face. “You were always really talented. Those little cartoon guys you used to do, I loved them. That unicorn dude, he was ace.” 

She could barely believe he remembered them after so long, those pictures she’d submitted on her GCSE display. “As if you remember him! Sparky the unicorn.” 

“Sparky, yeah, yeah. That was him.” In truth, he remembered exactly what the cartoon character of her creation had been called, but he didn’t want to look like a weirdo by remembering such an innocuous detail after so many years. Especially not after her surprise that he’d remembered it at all.  

“So, how long have you been tattooing for?” she then asked. 

“Right out of uni, more or less.” 

“Yeah? Wow, long time, then. Did you end up going to Loughborough like you wanted to?” 

Oh, so she’d remembered something innocuous herself too, then. “I did, yeah, yeah.”  

“I remember you telling me. Well, you wrote it down.” 

She began to chuckle, her soft giggle making his stomach tingle pleasantly, even more so when it loudened at watching him pause and close his eyes tightly for a few moments, laughing softly though his nose. “The legit shame of it.”  

“Oh, come on! You weren’t that bad!” she cried, laughing more the further his cheeks pinked. Damn, he was so cute. 

“Weren’t that bad? Holly, I couldn’t pissing speak!” He paused there, giving her a few seconds to compose her giggles. She couldn’t. Her beautiful laughter only spurred his further, both sitting there in soft fits at the memory of his fifteen-year-old self, so stoned he was rendered mute.  

“Or walk by the end of the night either,” Kelsey offered from across the shop. “Had to give him a fireman’s lift to the taxi!” 

Oh, the shame. “You needn’t bloody chip in over there, Chapman,” he snorted. “I can do a good enough job mortifying myself, by myself, thanks.”  

“Sharing is caring!” she beamed, Nathan muttering as he continued and moved onto the next flower.  

“How you holding up?” 

“Fine, getting used to it,” she confirmed, watching him smile. 

“Trust me, it won’t be your last. You get bitten by the tattoo bug. Seldom anybody who’s ever had them stops at just one.” 

“Which was your most recent? Can I see?” she inquired.  

“Hmm, only if I took my jeans off,” he confessed.  

“You little tease,” she joked, winking. “Where is it? Anywhere naughty?” 

Was she... no. No, no. She wasn’t flirting with him. Why the hell would she? He knew he was reasonably attractive. Hell, he’d gone from zero to sex in five minutes with someone just thirty minutes before, but seriously. Holly Madden, or Jenkins as she now was, flirting with him? No.  

“It’s on my lower hip,” he confirmed, “cover up of the ex’s name.” Thanks to Kelsey, where Lisa’s name had once lay was now covered by an old school style black panther crawling its way up to his hipbone, a definite improvement now his wife no longer had any prominence in his life.  

“Do you do any of your own tattoos?” she asked out of curiosity, Nathan loading more violet onto the needle. 

“Have done in the past. I did my feet, but I’m not that great at tattooing myself. I do most of my own piercings, though. Save a couple.” 

“How many do you have?” 

He thought for a moment, counting. “Twenty-one. Used to be twenty-three, but I took my eyebrow ones out.”  

“And where are they all?”  

“Eight in my left ear, six in my right, one nostril, lip, two in my tongue, both nipples and one in my dick.”  

Immediately, she gasped. “Crapping hell! I bet that bloody hurt!” 

It would be fair to say he’d nearly gone through the roof. “Yep, a solid eight out of ten on the pain scale.” 

“Why on earth would you do something like that? And have two in your tongue? I bet that was painful, too!” she cried, shaking her head in amazement. 

“Same answer for both,” he smirked. “It’s purely a sex thing.” 

“Can I see them?” she asked, suddenly kicking herself as her stomach plummeted, her cheeks colouring. “The tongue ones, I hasten to add!” Oh, the depth of her cringe. Shit.  

He laughed softly, poking his tongue out and giving it a very rapid wiggle, the two black studs tapping against his teeth.  

Her eyes rounded, making an impressed little hum in the back of her throat. “Bloody hell. A man who can move his tongue that rapidly doesn’t really need any further enhancements, if you ask me.” 

“I know, but I like to show off,” he smiled, winking. Oh, oh yes. He could trust it. They’d definitely fallen into a little playful flirting. “What about you?” 

She felt a bit vanilla, compared to him. “Just my ears, one in each lobe and one at the top of my right. I always said I was going to get something else, too, but I never know what.” 

“Well, when you make up your mind, you know where I am,” he smiled, returning his focus to her tattoo.  

She couldn’t help herself. “You do seem particularly apt at sticking needles in people, so yes, I think I’ll trust it to you.” 

And neither could he. “Not just needles.” Again, he winked, Holly smiling a little shyly, definitely enjoying the exchange. Oh, and why the heck not? She was thirty-four-year-old single woman eleven months out of a terrible marriage. Why not flirt with the hottie doing her tattoo for her?  

“You little devil!” she giggled, Kelsey and Chris exchanging knowing looks from their respective stations, watching their friend enjoying the hell out of himself in flirting up a storm with his teen crush. It was quite surprising for them to witness, since earlier that day aside, he wasn’t overly brash with it. He still wasn’t even then, but he definitely had something about him that exuded a bit more charm than usual.  

At close to the hour mark, he gave her a little break, covering the tattoo for her with a piece of taped on kitchen paper so she could pop outside and make a phone call, taking his gloves off and grabbing his large vaping mod, going out to stand on the other side of the front door, blowing out plumes of sweetly scented vapour.  

“What is that?” she inquired, moving to his side once her phone call to her friend Kate was done, confirming that she’d be on time for their dinner plans later that evening. “It smells delicious!” 

“Strawberry bubble gum,” he replied, taking another lungful he blew out in a huge cloud ahead. “Because I’m a massive fanny who needs his nicotine with a nice flavour.” 

“Ahh, are you using it as a quitting smoking aid?” 

He shook his head. “Nah, I’ve never smoked cigarettes. They smell vile and make you stink, but after all the shit with my ex, I needed something to de-stress a bit, so I took up vaping.” He paused. “I’m aware that makes me look like a proper massive twat, but it is what it is.”  

She giggled softly. “No, it doesn’t. When I’m drunk, I buy those disposable vapes sometimes. They’re awful, and I know they’re bad for the planet, too! Drunk Holly cannot be held accountable, though.”  

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, same as drunk Nathan. He’s a pissing liability,” he chuckled. He paused, looking at her, the way she smiled at him, a sudden uprising of courage kicking him sharply. “Speaking of drinking, you busy later? Me and them two inside are heading to that bar just over the other side of the park tonight, Wolfpack. You fancy meeting up?” 

“Erm...” She quickly worked out times in her head. She and Kate were meeting at six, dinner could likely be an hour and a half, and they had said they’d go on someplace else afterwards. With the borough of Brent, where they currently were only just under twenty minutes via car from her home borough of Hammersmith, it was entirely possible that she could. “Yes, alright then. That’d be great!” 

His stomach all but caved in on itself with excitement. “Cool. I’ll be in there from about seven, ‘kay?” 

“Alright,” she beamed, feeling little darts prickling her tummy. “I’ll be there later; I have dinner plans with my mate first. Mind if I bring her along, too?” 

Blowing out another cloud, he shook his head. “Nah, no worries.” He might’ve appeared cool on the outside, but within, he had fireworks going off in his chest. He felt fifteen again, and as soon as Holly had left the shop half an hour later, it showed.  

“Blud, why you bouncing?” Chris asked, just the three of them all between clients, Nathan tapping the pen in his hand begin the counter as he bounced on his heels. 

“Has she moved away from the shop yet?” 

Kelsey turned to peer through the windows. “She’s just got into a black cab.” As soon as he heard that statement he jumped up and down a few times, punching the air. 

“Fucking got a date with her! She’s meeting us later! A few more air punches followed before he composed himself, taking a deep breath through his nose. “And I’m back to being a calm adult.”  

His friends shared a look, Kelsey thinking how adorable his excitement was. It was nice to see. He’d been bordering on morose at times since his split from Lisa. “Only taken you nineteen years, but you got there in the end, eh Gilly?” 

“Better late than never.” he replied, misting his station with antibacterial spray, his next client due to arrive at any moment. That client was a guy he’d originally met over in Dublin, who he’d reconnected with back in London a while ago. Alex was a gargantuan rugby player in the middle of having a full Japanese themed back piece done by Nathan, the appointment taking up the rest of his afternoon until they shut at 6:30pm.  

They worked long hours at the shop, Closed Sunday and Monday, but open from 10am – 7pm Tuesday to Thursday, and 10am – 9pm on Friday, 9am – 6:30pm on Saturday. With nowhere else to be since the dissolution of his marriage, Nathan had begun booking people in late on other weeknights too, giving himself something to take his mind off the fact that he was separated and truly didn’t really want to be. 

Well, that was only half true.  

He was very glad to be free of Lisa after how things had ended between them, but he’d liked being married. He really wasn’t the type of guy who was into playing the field, hence why his friends had been so alarmed at the speed he’d ended up shagging the girl earlier that day.  

In Nathan’s defence, he’d been horny. Very horny, and maybe just a tiny bit lit from the shot of vodka he’d had that morning upon waking, something to soothe his hungover brain. He made a point of never working under the influence, taking too much pride in his work for that, but one shot wasn’t the end of the world, and it had definitely helped him feel more human again.  

After finishing up the latest section of the huge dragon head upon his client’s back, he went and had a few more tots from the bottle of vodka in his fridge before taking a quick shower and changing, meeting his friends back in the shop before they locked up and headed across the park to Wolfpack. Cue Nathan to spend the next hour trying to play it cool, but failing miserably. Whenever anyone female entered the bar, his eyes snapped over, checking to see if it was Holly. Much tapping and neck scratching ensured. 

“Gilly, you’re going to give yourself carpal tunnel. Stop riffing!” Kelsey advised him, pulling his hand away from within his masses of hair. Immediately, he began drumming his fingers on the table. “Such a jittery boy!” 

He cringed slightly, looking perturbed as anxiety corded through his entire body. “Can’t help it, bruv. She’s too hot for me! I mean really, proper gorgeous, she is. And she’s meeting my scruffy rocker arse. Can’t cope, Kels.”  

He was so adorable. “Oh, no, no, no. There’ll be none of this. You, my friend, are bloody lovely. If I had to shag a guy, like if my life depended on letting a penis near me, I’d choose you. You’re a hottie, so stop sitting there looking like a deer caught in the headlights, and scratching like you’ve got the same amount of ticks as one!” 

“Still wanna hide,” he muttered, laughing at himself. 

Nathan was usually so chilled out, it was very odd for her to see him in any other way. Hell, the man had managed to score with a girl in less than five minutes just hours before, not that she really wanted to dwell on such an out of character occurrence too heavily, though.  

“Why though?” she cried gently, shaking his arm. “You were vibing so well with her earlier, and now look at you! Working yourself into a state.” 

“Yeah, but that was on my turf and now I just... ahh, pissing hell. Where’s Chris with those shots?” Turning his attention towards the bar, he could just about make out the sight of his bald head, thankfully appearing to be somewhat close to getting served. It was a very typically busy night. “It’s because it’s her. I’m telling you, she’s too hot for me.” 

“For the love of the virgin Mary’s bicycle!” she exclaimed, making him snort laugh. It was always ‘for the love of the virgin Mary’s’ something or other with her, and it never failed to crack him up. “Calm down, stop scratching your neck and just breathe! Where’s zen Nath? He needs to come back.” 

The back of his neck continued to receive a good scratching. “He’s otherwise engaged.” Looking towards the doors, he saw two women walk in, his heart hammering. Not her, thankfully. He needed the next round Chris was buying to arrive before Holly did.  

Thinning her lips, she contemplated her next statement for a moment. “This isn’t anything to do with Lisa, is it? She didn’t say anything rotten that’s dented you, did she? Because Jesus Harold Christ, I will knock her through the floor if she did.”  

Trust his favourite butch battleaxe on earth to be so protective. She always had been, and if you didn’t know how sweet and gentle Kelsey was, her sheer size alone cut her from a very intimidating cloth. He’d witnessed her knock out fully grown men in the past.  

He huffed slightly, raising his eyebrows before sinking the rest of his pint. “She said plenty of rotten things, but we don’t speak of her any longer.”  

Truly, Kelsey had hit the nail on the head. It was a little bit of his estranged wife’s nastiness making him nervous, but mostly it was a Holly specific. She was the girl he’d fancied from the ages of eleven to fifteen, and even though he was a grown thirty-four-year-old man, seeing her again had reminded him of being fifteen and way too shy and awkward to make a move on her.  

Luckily, Chris arrived back with a tray of drinks, buying them two pints and two shots each, save going up again with how packed the place was. Nathan’s two shots of Jägermeister had been sunk before he’d even sat down. 

“Blud, easy now!” he exclaimed, Nathan grimacing at the taste, but enjoying the warm feeling of the alcohol spreading through his chest. “You can’t be getting all wreck up before she even gets here, fam!” 

“I can and I will, bruv,” he joked, taking a big gulp of his fresh pint, his eyes once again flitting to the entrance. This time, it wasn’t a false alarm. “Oh, hell upon hell. She’s here.” 

His heart thundered in his chest at seeing her, her eyes scanning the crowd, smiling and waving when she saw him. God, she looked great. She was dressed casually in a figure-hugging black bodysuit with a high neck, her toned arms on show, and a pair of wide legged green trousers with very high heels that boosted her height up more than the flipflops she’d been wearing that afternoon.  

“I’m legit having palpitations.” he muttered, Kelsey wrapping her arms around him and kissing his forehead. By the time she arrived with him, he’d calmed down a little bit, Holly introducing her friend Kate to them all, the women taking a seat. Immediately, Holly began sniffing the air.  

“Oooh, what’s that lovely smell?” Sniffing around some more, she leaned closer to Nathan, identifying him as the source. “You smell delish!” 

“Thanks.” He would say that was the moment he calmed down, but no, because the way she viewed him so appreciatively, Nathan felt anything but. In a good way, though.  

[moonshynecybin]

what no gos would marc commit while kayaking. translate his aggressive riding to kayaking faux pas for me...... if you want.......

this is interesting because kayaking is an individual sport, and for many only SOMETIMES a competitive one. the big formalized racing series like slalom are often done on courses DESIGNED to minimize risk, the rapids max out at class 3 or 4 and as such rarely attract the real daredevils like marc… so competitive freaknasty that he is i think he sticks to the BIG stuff and indulges in like. the occasional north fork race… and there’s only really a couple of those big water races a year… fr most of the sport at the top level is simply trying to outdo YOURSELF.

ANDDD most extreme kayak races (for safety!) operate on time trail format rather than the rubbing is racing philosophy (the exception is kayaking cross… check it out at the olympics this year…). so only rarely are you directly able to impact the safety of another person for the worse. for instance, when someone dies kayaking, there typically isn’t anything another person could have done in the lead up to the accident to prevent said accident from happening (though assisting with rescues is a HUGE part of being a safe boater. there a books written on it). NOW. marc has been dangerous in many ways on track because HE is happening TO other people. he’s doing a risky pass. sending it on the cooldown lap. left his brain at home in argentina. what happened literally this morning in quali with aleix. and in a whitewater instance, there ARE less than safe things you can do as a group (not scouting or not setting someone up below the rapid are big ones.) but the only way he could outright get someone HURT is to not pay attention and accidentally ignore if a swim or a pin happened. the danger is in the damage control. which if marc was ignoring would just mean that he’s a bad kayaker if i’m being honest. like marc as badsafety in motorsport is him getting so in his head that he wants to WIN that risk doesn’t matter. the competitive temptation doesn’t exist here. it isn’t ingrained. the motivation would change. in whitewater if he’s paddling with someone and he isn’t paying attention he would just kinda suck. you HAVE to know what’s going on around you and i think he does !

so at the end of the day i think the reallll crazy stuff is just gonna be marc as an individual and whatever rapid he thinks he has the skill to send it on, which i imagine is most of them ! i imagine he sees a rapid everyone else would class as unrunnable and says nahhhh i see a line. and then he sticks that line ! i imagine he’s got alex in the jungle in chile and they’re doing a first descent on a section of river no one’s ever done before with no real option of calling for help! alone out there adrenaline RACING just happy as a clam! i imagine he is not scouting rapids he should absolutely scouting! i think he sees high water and says hell yes! giant hole? put me in coach i can surf it! kayaking on a destroyed shoulder? him and every other elite kayaker in the world (nouria newman JUST recovered from the same surgery marc had in 2019 and so did my BROTHER. he ain’t special.) like there are specific safety philosophies that i imagine marc ignores but rarely do i think it would edge into the dangerous for OTHER PEOPLE territory, which is where marc can make controversial hay, and frankly i think MOST paddlers are that level are so wrong in the head that they take all the same fucking risks aksjddh….

that being said i DO think he sends it on a sketchy rapid to impress vale and vale gets his trademark mixture of hornyworried and mildly insecure concerning marc’s status as the Next One (i imagine vale used to do that a lot, then lost sic and shaped up. which is the character arc of every kayaker in the world over a certain age as long as the drowning victim is not in fact almost themself) and that’s how they have an epic divorce concerning marc’s hairboating philosophy and it’s impact on vale’s various youngins

[kitashousewife]

snowed in

an: i have been so excited for this one!!!! i love ennoshita he is so handsome and beautiful to me heehee

pairings: timeskip!ennoshita x fem!reader

warnings: reader is also in school with ennoshita, just not taking PT classes, one bed trope, friends to lovers ish (more classmates to lovers), mentions of food and eating, lots of fluff!!!! lowercase intentional

-

ennoshita is your favorite classmate this semester. the history class the two of you are in is tough, stressing you out more than you had planned. thankfully he's incredibly knowledgeable, helpful, supportive, and kind. he's always helped you when you needed it, even answering your very late-night texts to help you with an assignment.

that's why you couldn't refuse his offer to work on your group project this weekend. you may owe him, but he's also very handsome, so you couldn't say no.

besides, how hard could the assignment be?

"how's your section coming along?" ennoshita asks from behind his laptop, words laced with a little bit of nervousness. the two of you decided to work at his place, a very old but cozy home that he shares with narita and kinoshita. it may look a little beat up, but it's relaxing, cozy, and has much faster internet than your apartment.

"it's...going!" you give him a weak, very tired smile. you have your workstation set up at his kitchen table, and ennoshita is sprawled out on the living room floor. he groans and rolls onto his back.

"i mean, if we would have done the project right the first time, we would probably be finished by now."

you sigh. "it's not our fault that the assignment was worded like that!" unfortunately, you both read the instructions wrong. after hour three, enoshita realized the grave mistake, meaning it's been about six hours of work.

"i'm almost done, thank god," he mumbles, rubbing his eyes before looking over at you. ennoshita is also quite glad that you decided to come over today. he's sure that you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen. but, between pt classes, his part-time job at the clinic, and his other classes, he just hasn't found the time to ask you out.

narita told him that he's making excuses, but ennoshita swears he isn't.

"i think i'm about done, too. do you want to send me your part?" ennoshita hums, and a few seconds later an email enters your inbox.

he stands up with a stretch, hands placed on his lower back with a wince. he feels a little bummed if he's being honest. now that the project is done, you're free to go home.

"h-hey, are you hungry?"

you look up from your screen with a small smile. "a little, but it's okay! don't worry about it,"

he shakes his head. "it's the least i can do! you drove here, and you're editing my work, which is deserving of an entire three-course meal," he smiles as you let out a laugh. "unfortunately, since my roommates already left for break, i don't have much food. is take out fine?"

your eyes skim over the last section before you save and shut your laptop. "i don't mind, ennoshita! i can't be too picky since you so graciously offered."

"chikara," he corrects with a grin. "and okay. i'll order from my favorite place, i promise you'll love it."

while waiting for the food, the two of you clean up a bit before sitting in the living room, getting to know each other. you share a bit about your friends and family, plus your current job. ennoshita laughs when you gripe about your stupid boss and co-workers. he also takes his turn, sharing his love for volleyball and sports, even telling you about the rec team he plays with a couple of times a week. you learn that he's currently working a few hours a week at a nearby physical therapy clinic, which you can tell he loves by the smile on his face.

"and you mentioned roommates, how did you meet them?" you ask from the opposite end of the couch. you almost wish the couch was just a bit smaller so that you would have no choice but to get a little closer. the smell of his cologne is intoxicating.

"i've known them for years. we played volleyball together in high school," he starts, motioning towards a picture frame that hangs on the wall near the tv. "when i found this place, it was perfect. rent was a little high, but thankfully they wanted a change of scenery and decided to move in to help with the cost. they're really awesome guys," he laughs a little, shaking his head. his mouth opens to continue, but a few knocks on his front door grab you two's attention.

"oh! must be our dinner," ennoshita walks towards the door, and checks the peep hole before opening it.

"oh my god."

"is everything okay? was the order wrong?" you try and peak around the corner, but it's no use.

"have you looked outside at all?" his previously light and joyful voice is now filled with worry and concern. you quickly shuffle to the front door, and immediately understand his reaction.

everything is covered in a blanket of fresh, white snow. and by covered, you mean absolutely buried. besides the fresh snow tire tracks down the driveway, you feel like you are in a snow globe. the tires of your car are lost, the road is nowhere to be found, and the very crudely hung christmas lights swinging from the gutters glow dimly through the snow. while it's beautiful, you have absolutely no idea how you can get home.

"let's get in and eat. i'll turn on the news. maybe there's a storm we didn't know about?" ennoshita's warm palm rests on your lower back, lightly pulling you away from the chilly air sneaking in through the front door. he shuts it, hurriedly placing your dinner on the counter before flipping on the news. you open the containers up, dread filling your body as the broadcast plays.

headlines reading freak snow storm and road closures run across the screen, a man who's voice and smile far too cheery for the situation explains the effects citywide, and lists off school closures for the following day.

"that's much more exciting when you're a kid," ennoshita sighs, and walks into the kitchen, grabbing a couple glasses for the two of you.

"you don't happen to have a car that's good in the snow, do you?" your tone is hopeful, but you feel the complete opposite. you know for a fact that your car won't make it home, and with the roads the way they are, your friends wouldn't be able to get you either.

he lets out a nervous laugh before joining you at the counter.

"does a bike count?"

you snort. "as much as i appreciate that, i'm going to have to pass. i'm sure the bus is running! i can always get my car another day."

ennoshita picks up a couple of the containers. "i wouldn't mind walking with you to the bus stop! we can eat on the couch and can walk over when you're ready. no rush!" he smiles. you feel better already. one of your favorite things about him is how he's so calm, so sweet, and caring. without him, you are positive the report from earlier would have never been finished. you smile back at him, before reaching for the last container. his fingers brush yours, pulling away quickly before grabbing your glass of water. the two of you brush it off, but your heart definitely skipped a beat.

you take a seat on the couch, very ready to dig into your food.

"thank you, chikara. this was really sweet of you," you place your hand on his leg, and he about chokes on his dinner. he nods, swallowing his bite. "no problem!"

the two of you eat, the conversation never stopping for long. the two of you chat about school, hopes and dreams, favorite movies, and everything in between.

"that was so good! i can't believe i've never ordered from there," you exclaim, taking ennoshita's trash for him to the kitchen. he laughs.

"i'm sure they know who i am at this point. i'm almost positive i order at least once a week," he scratches the back of his head, slightly embarrassed by his habits. thankfully, you giggle in response giving him a honeyed smile.

"well, i guess it's time to head to the bus sto-"

the two of you turn your attention to the tv, where the same reporter as before informs the two of you that the bus will, in fact, not run until tomorrow.

"you've got to be kidding me," you groan checking your phone to see tons of messages from friends about the snow. "what do i do?"

ennoshita feels selfish. he feels terrible that you're essentially stranded, stuck with someone that you don't know terribly well. his heart sinks when he sees you, lip pushed out into a pout, worry written all over your face. the other part of him feels a little happy.

he wouldn't tell you, but he's very glad that you're stuck with him.

"you're more than welcome to sleep here! i don't mind at all, i'm happy to help. we have tons of extra blankets, and i have an extra phone charger somewhere," he puts his hand on your shoulder tentatively, worried he might scare you. thankfully you don't mind, even leaning into his touch a little.

"are you sure? i feel like i've imposed so much today," you feel your cheeks warm up a little bit. you feel a little excited. if you had to be stuck somewhere, you're glad that you are stuck with ennoshita. even if it does feel like a bad rom com.

"you're not imposing at all! i'm so glad you came today-" he stops himself, worried that he said too much. you look up at him with a shy grin.

"i'm glad i came, too."

ennoshita blushes, a pretty pink that makes his brown eyes stand out. he looks at the clock on the oven, shocked at how late it's gotten.

"you can say no, but if you'd like, you are more than welcome to borrow some of my clothes," he manages to get out, hoping the nervous tone doesn't show too much. he thinks you would look adorable in one of his hoodies, maybe even his sweats. "only if you want to, of course."

"s-sure, thank you so much!" you respond quickly. you want to smack yourself. was that too much?

ennoshita leads you to his room, patting his bed for you to take a seat while he grabs some things for you. he returns from his closet quickly, handing you sweatshirt and sweats.

"if you want a t-shirt, i got plenty of those too. are these okay?" he looks at you, brown eyes full of concern.

"it's perfect, thanks chikara."

the two of you stand in silence for a few seconds, before the two of you speak at the same time.

"d-do you-"

"i'll let-"

the two of you laugh.

"i was just going to ask if i could change somewhere,"

he nods. "the bathroom is just right next to my room. feel free to shower, take a bath, or do whatever you'd like. i even have extra toothbrushes if you want."

you can't help but smile. this is the nicest anyone has treated you in a while.

"you are so sweet. thank you so much."

ennoshita sinks back to his bedroom, changing into sweats and a sweatshirt of his own. he tries to straighten up anything he can before you come back, even fluffing the pillows a little. he feels so nervous and so excited at the same time. the intimacy of having you in his bedroom makes his heart race.

you emerge a few minutes later, and ennoshita has to force himself not to coo at how adorable you look. sweatshirt sleeves hanging a bit past your hands, sweats a little loose on your figure. you look as adorable, if not more than he thought you would.

meanwhile, you feel dizzy. his smell is so perfect, so intoxicating. now you're swimming in it, every sense is consumed by him. you just want to crawl into his lap, wrap your arms around him and fall asleep.

"i would offer one of my roommates beds to you, but i wouldn't sleep in them myself," he explains, grabbing extra blankets from one of the closets. you snort. he turns to look over his shoulder at you, giving you a smile.

"chikara look out!"

a few extra blankets come tumbling off of the shelf and onto his face, and ennoshita is ready to hide. he's embarrassed himself more than enough for one night.

"well, at least that's taken care of," he huffs. you can't help the giggle that sneaks out, which thankfully puts ennoshita at ease.

"the couch is very comfortable, but if you any extra blankets or pillows let me know. my room is-nevermind, you were just there-"

"this is perfect. thank you so much chikara, you're so sweet. you didn't need to do all this for me," you shake your head, setting up your bed. "i'll find you if you need anything, though."

he takes a step backward, putting his hands in his pockets. he's not quite sure what to do. do i hug her? do i just say goodnight? do i walk away?

"goodnight!" he gives a little wave before flicking off the lights and walking down the hall.

"goodnight, chikara!"

-

you're not sure what time it is when you wake up. it's still dark, the only light pouring in from the street lamp outside, dancing off of the snow that continues to build. you're freezing. even with the few heavy quilts and very cozy clothes, you shiver. patting around your blankets you finally find your phone, which blinks back at you. 3:22 am. you sigh, wrapping the blankets even closer around yourself. you quickly realize your phone hasn't been charging. unplugging and replugging, but nothing changes. moving to a different outlet, but still nothing changes.

the creak of ennoshita's bedroom door catches your attention, along with the call of your name.

"it's freezing, are you alright?" he whispers. you nod, hugging one of the quilts around you.

"just a bit cold is all, but i'm fine!"

you can't help but look at him. chocolate hair a little messy from sleep, sleep shirt hugging tight to his biceps. his fingers fumble with the thermostat for a few seconds, before he covers his face.

"oh no," he murmurs through his hands.

"what? is it broken?"

he shakes his head. "i think we lost power."

your mouth drops open. he rushes into his bedroom, grabbing his phone to call his landlord, who thankfully picks up on the first ring. ennoshita paces back and forth, and a muffled conversation carries through the hallway before he hangs up.

"well, we lost power. my landlord lives a couple doors over and is going to hook up our generator, but it might take him a bit," he rubs his eyes. "you don't have to, but it might be good if we just share my bed for a bit? it's getting cold quick,"

you nod. "i-if you're okay with it,"

he grabs your hand and walks you to his room. "please, the last thing i want is for you to get too cold."

you slide in to his bed, pulling the covers up. his bed is still a bit warm from before he left. you're drowning now, the clean smell of his sheets and the lingering smell of his shampoo envelope your senses. ennoshita slides in next to you, not too close though. he's worried about making you uncomfortable.

a few minutes pass by, but you can't seem to warm up.

"chikara?" you whisper in a small voice in hopes not to wake him up.

"yeah?"

you clear your throat. "u-um, you can get closer if you want, i don't mind,"

his brain short circuits.

"are you sure?"

"yeah, i'm sure. i'm still a bit cold actually."

he nods, not that you can see him. he moves closer, bodies only inches away from touching. the heat of his body is nice, helping you to feel a bit more at ease. without thinking, you reach for his arm to pull it over yourself.

you freeze. he freezes.

"i-im sorry i didn't-"

"i c-can move it if you-"

"no," your voice is small. "you can keep it there if you want."

he pauses before relaxing his arm a little, involuntarily pulling you a little closer. he doesn't want to pull you in anymore, because you could probably feel his heart beat.

each second that goes by causes the two of you to relax, and both of you warm up quickly. the warm glow from the christmas lights seeps into the room through his blinds, coating the two of you in a slightly orange haze. the rhythm of your heart lulls him to sleep, breathing becoming steadier. your eyes flutter shut, and your mind races. you haven't felt this comfortable, this warm, and safe in so long.

just as you begin to drift off, the sharp beep of the smoke detector cuts through the air, followed by the rumble of the heater.

"power's on," ennoshita sleepily whispers, pulling you a little closer.

"yeah," you whisper back, lacing your fingers with his.

the two of you fall asleep in each other's embrace, deciding to worry about how everything will play out in the morning. although neither of you figured this would happen, neither of you complain.

thankfully the weather gave the two of you the push you needed, even if it did cause both of you to be snowed in.

[thickenmyblood]

hi maca. i was wondering if laurent and his friends are meant to seem a little hypocritical or if i’m misreading them? through damen’s pov we see him tackling various issues he’s been bigoted or ignorant about, and i got a sense that these were all topics he and laurent/laurent’s friends really disagreed on. but it doesn’t seem like laurent et al.’s philosophies match up with their actions? like damen’s issues around sexism and gender—laurent et al. also don’t seem to have any female friends, at least none that have been seen or mentioned as important. or mental health—damen had a lot of misconceptions that hurt laurent, but now laurent’s willing to put his friend in a treatment center against his will, really violating his bodily autonomy. or classism—laurent and ancel have experienced poverty, but now choose to surround themselves with wealthy people. they don’t really seem to have any middle class friends or anyone in their former positions. by contrast, laurent most recently brought maxime into their circle, an ultrarich person with an equestrian club/villa/etc. so overall i’m wondering if i’m being too harsh on them, or if laurent and his friends are more egalitarian in thought than in deed? even if they think or speak differently than damen, it doesn’t seem like they act much different

hello! this is a very interesting question. it has taken me a long, long time to reply but at last! here we are. my answer will be divided into three different sections.

1. gender

I agree that it comes across as hypocritical that Laurent is always quick to point out Damen's toxic views on masculinity and femininity when he himself doesn't have any female friends (at least not on page). you can 100% interpret this as hypocrisy because the text supports your analysis perfectly. this Laurent, as neo has already pointed out, has a lot of toxic traits that might be an echo of his own abuser's actions. I liked the fact that in canon the regent hated women, so I really wanted to keep that. I'm not saying hiuh Laurent hates women. on the contrary, I PERSONALLY think that because he grew up isolated and under his uncle's influence, he might not be the best when it comes to socializing/maintaining interpersonal relationships with women.

I also think there's a really interesting discussion to be had about how (in this case) men that are part of the LGBTQ group can sometimes think they are liberal and progressive simply bc they belong to said group. sadly, this exceeds the limits of the story, but it's still interesting to think about.

lastly, to be completely honest, the only reason why ancel is not shown with female friends is that I did not want to keep writing original characters. ancel feeling lonely and left behind was a huge plot point in his arch to become Damen's friend and so I benefited greatly from keeping things like that. as for aimeric, he has no friends other than ancel and Laurent because he is meant to be read as a deeply unlikeable and misunderstood character. once again, characterization limits the story quite a bit.

2. mental health and body autonomy

this is such a great point that you and other people have made both here and on AO3. I agree: Laurent playing Aimeric so that he gets committed is a violation on aimeric's rights and trust and overall dignity.

a. why then will this not be addressed?

because this is damen's pov. yes, he has grown a lot, his journey with mental health education has been long and hard and has had many rewards. BUT I do not think he is at a point in which he is THAT aware or educated on issues like this. when writing and editing this i did not feel it would be organic to have Damen contradict Laurent on this. however, other characters have pointed out that they do not agree with Laurent's views/intervention (ancel and jord -> remember Laurent and damen's conversation at the park).

I understand that a lot of people are very upset with how hiuh does not address some issues, and I want to take this opportunity to reply to those loud and valid complaints. a story cannot deal with everything. it can't solve everything. it can't address every problematic issue that arises within the narrative. why? because if it did, I believe it would read a lot like preaching. when you write something, you have a main plot (sometimes main plots that connect) and subplots. Aimeric is a side character and his story is quite literally a tiny brick in the wall that is hiuh. taking an interest in a subplot is great, but expecting the subplot to be too relevant is (TO ME) a bit of a reach.

b. does Laurent know this is wrong? why is he approaching this issue this way?

i believe there is a part of Laurent that knows this is the wrong approach, which is why he seeks to talk it out with Damen and does not simply act on his own/in secret. in some ways, damen's simplicity has acted as a good moral compass to him before.

Laurent's past institutionalization has been mentioned a couple of times, and I thought perhaps that would be clue enough to unlock that part of his reasoning. evidently, the feedback I've received from multiple people has made me realize I have an important task to complete as I'm editing the final chapters, which is to make this facet of Laurent more evident and on page. hopefully, when the story is over you will come to understand (KEY POINT: NOT APPROVE OF) his reasoning.

c. is Laurent lying when he tells Damen he didn't provoke Aimeric into using the knife on himself?

as usual, I'm not the reading police. I don't, generally speaking, care about how you read this as long as it's not... you know, in bad faith or purposefully poking around for weak spots (see: disingenuous reading). PERSONALLY, I wrote this fic with the intention of Laurent NOT being the reason Aimeric gets committed. Aimeric gets committed time and time again bc he is in desperate need of mental health aid. NOT bc of Laurent's interventions.

now, if you wish to read the scene where Laurent tells Damen that he didn't actually get to provoke Aimeric with some trauma baits (see: aimeric's brother) then it's not like I can stop you. if you feel like the text supports that analysis... be my guest.

3. economic class

I have spoken at length about this before in other asks but there is no reason why you or anyone reading this should know of my previous replies.

economic class is not well written in hiuh. this fic is not meant to be read in any way, shape or form as a study on class, classism, what my personal take on rich people is, etc. to answer your question, yes, ancel and Laurent have both experienced poverty, but they've done so in very different situations. ancel was born into poverty and struggled through it until well into his young adult years when he met berenger. on the other hand, Laurent was rich as a kid up until the moment he decided to go against his uncle and take him to court in a legal battle that lasted (roughly) around a year. this experience obviously changed and shaped Laurent as a person and it is a huge source of tension between him and Damen, but the story is told through damen's pov. Damen has NEVER experienced poverty, economic struggle, need, hunger, desperation... this story is not about this particular issue. I cannot make it about this or else there would be no story bc i believe people that have damen's kind of money would never, EVER, behave the way Damen behaves in this.

there is one character that is """"supposed"""" to represent a more middle class background: jord. HOWEVER, as I've said, this fic does NOT go into an analysis of class. it was not my goal as I wrote it nor is it now as I edit it.

to this day, hiuh is my longest and most intentionally layered work. it has gaps and holes and places where it falls short, as does every story. as does canon. if hiuh were, let's say, original fiction, then I am sure most of these issues would be the main point of many, many fanfics on AO3. fans wanting something different and better and edgier and softer and sadder is why I'm here in the first place. I wanted canon to be different, so I wrote fics. people want my fic to be different in some ways, but that's where fiction reaches a dead end. I cannot offer you, reading this and fuming over XYZ, any solution but to write another (better) version of this story.

what this doesn't mean: STOP COMMENTING YOUR OPINIONS!!! STOP ASKING ME QUESTIONS!!!

what this does mean: a lot of criticism is valid, I am giving an explanation of my motives/limitations/creative choices. I am not "defending" myself bc for the most part I do not feel attacked.

final thoughts

i loved this question because as I read it and thought of an answer I could tell where you were coming from and that your wish to know more/understand the characters better was not malicious. yes, they are all hypocrites in some ways and you are very, very right to read the story that way. I am sorry that I sort of hijacked your ask as a way to reply to a lot of other people's comments and asks, but I am afraid that if I do not post this now as one single unified message that I will never have the chance to say this again.

thank you for your time and your careful (and critical!) reading of my story.

[canyouhearthelight]

Nihilus Rex, Ch. 30: Meet the Andovers

Does this read like a fluffy chapter? Absolutely, especially after the previous chapter. However, this is absolutely essential to the plot, as we get to meet Nils' parents - more specifically his mother.

That being said, the side gag going on in this one may read like one of the sillier chapters of "The Miys", but I swear it was entirely @baelpenrose's doing.

Mama's hooked on Mary Kay

Brother's hooked on Mary Jane

And Daddy's hooked on Mary two doors down

Mary, Mary quite contrary

We get bored, so we get married

Just like dust, we settle in this town

On this broken merry go 'round

Kasey Musgraves, “Merry go round”

Lash

I fidgeted with my hair before inwardly cursing myself and forcing my hands to my side. “You promise your mother isn’t as bad as Dr. Andover?” I asked for what had to have been the thousandth time.  Nils meeting Mama and Baba had been spontaneous, something I had been delaying more for my sake than his.  But I knew almost nothing about his parents beyond the fact that their relationship was rough on a good day.

“My mother’s worst sin is that she’s a bit oblivious to how people without money tend to live - despite our church spanning pretty much every economic class in the city. She did, however, take your community’s part in the class action lawsuit against the city, or her firm did, and last I checked, they’re winning. She’s happy to see me putting myself out there again. You two will actually get along great.” I was still distracted from how my meeting with the Parsons had gone. “Oh, and uh. Quick note. My father wasn’t…happy at all with our little stunt with the media originally, but now he’s had time to think about it and he loves you. And the fact that we’re dating. Like actually. Just not for the reasons you’d want him to.” 

So, the rich lady is the nice kind, and the holier-than-thou doctor liked me.  I couldn’t actually figure out which was worse, but all in all they could hate me for a plethora of reasons, so I was taking what I could get. “And we’re having dinner with them? Please tell me it’s something I’m going to recognize.”

“Anything you grew up eating, they wouldn’t recognize. And to be so honest, if I grew up eating it, it’s probably too flavorless for your culture to grant it status as “food,” regardless of official classification. Things you and I have eaten together - actually remember that ritzy Mediterranean fusion place with the Ethiopian and Turkish sections on the menu as well as the southern European countries? The one I took you to a few months ago? That’s where we’re going.” Nils’ voice had shifted all at once from apologetic to confident, as though he knew that at least that, I’d actually like.

My mouth did start watering a bit. “The place with the bad spanakopita and the amazing dolmades?”

“Because where better to take a girl to meet your parents than the sight of your first date. That one. Yes.” He answered with a cocky grin. 

“I can face almost anything as long as I can eat,” I nodded, feeling more confident as I teased as our Uber slowed to a stop. “I’ll even use a fork, just for them.”

“Ah, yes, the table manners of the lower classes, a thing that has been of concern more recently than the long 19th century, that is definitely. What I was concerned about.” He offered me his arm. “Shall we?” 

I took the arm, and brushed my hair over my shoulder one last time. “Let’s…. I hate to say get this over with, but our history of meeting each other’s parents isn’t the best. And that’s considering that my family liked you before you were a hero.”

“My meeting with your parents was going perfectly well before an unpredictable event caused by outside factors with whom we have settled accounts.” Nils spoke in a sarcastic, almost parodical voice that would have been funny if applied to anything else. “No, though. You’re right. If it makes you feel any better, we’re the only terrorists at tonights’ venue. No, uh…my parents like you. My mom for good reasons, my dad for bad ones. Not anything creepy,” he said quickly, “More…deeply self-serving.” 

I tugged his arm.  “Okay, let’s go before I chicken out and make up a cold or something.”

“Oh, I never even considered ‘feign sudden illness’ when your parents were about to show up.” Nils led me into the restaurant, and when we made our entrance at a restaurant for wealthy people, fairly dressed up, we turned heads walking in. He whispered, “Take bets - do we look good, or are we just getting looks for being local heroes?”  He spotted his parents table and led me towards it, pulling out a chair for me and seating me before taking his own seat. 

His mother looked at me, and gave me a reassuring smile. 

“So,” Nils said, almost breathless. “Mom, Father, this is my girlfriend, Lash Botelho. I’m glad you’re finally meeting her formally. Lash, this is Dr. Michael Andover, you met him at the hospital, and this is Katherine Andover, attorney-at-law. Lash is a student of business and computer science, with a minor in graphic design - and she’s an excellent artist on a personal level. We’ve done a bunch of projects together.”

“So you guys met through school,” his mother seemed interested. “And Lash - business, computer science, and graphic design? That’s quite a lot. Heavy course load. I thought Nils was putting on a lot when he was doing computer science, political science, and history at the same time, but if I remember right your course load is even heavier.”

“It helps that I already do a lot of work with nonprofits,” I admitted. “So the computer science and graphic design were areas I already had a solid foundation in.  The business courses are the ones where I’m learning the most new information.”

“Nils says the same thing about poli-sci and computer science - lot of activist work. Doesn’t make it less impressive that you can balance all that with working outside school as well.” She said, quietly. 

Nils’ father broke into the conversation. “You work with nonprofits,” he said, suddenly much more interested. “Which ones?” 

Nils’ eyes got sharp. “Mostly ones that help poor people access resources they need.” 

I saw an opportunity and leapt in with both feet. “Right now, I do a lot with clean water initiatives, to help minimize exposure to insect- and waterborne illnesses. West Nile, Zika, even e.coli.  Things that are easy to prevent but devastating if you can’t afford treatment.”

I saw wheels turning in his father’s head. “Any particular foundations I should look at? Nils is always vetting my charity donations for me, and that sounds like a worthy one.” 

“I actually just took on a contract for one that has developed a straw that filters any water that is fifty-percent or less contaminants into potable water, without a need to boil it.  I’ll find the name and have him pass it on to you.  The proof of concept is just incredible.”

He grunted, with a tone that sounded like he was impressed against his will, and Nils looked back and forth between us, clearly nervous.

Mrs. Andover was back to talking to me. “So, what do you two work on together?”

Nils glanced at his parents. “Guys, you know, this is a lot less… ‘parents meeting my girlfriend’ than I thought it was going to be. Honestly you’re talking like you’re deciding whether or not to invest in a startup.” 

Mrs. Andover started laughing. “Well, Nils, honestly, you tell us basically nothing about this girl. All I know about her is that she’s beautiful, she’s clearly won you over, you two work together, she’s clearly brilliant based on what she’s studying and keeping up with, and now that she does work with some pretty impressive nonprofits. I’m trying to get to know her, and I figure asking about work is less likely to be too invasive.” 

Dr. Andover shrugged. “We also know her father works at the hospital. And that both her parents got hurt in the…”

Mrs. Andover glowered at him. “Wait, both of them? You didn’t…Nils, you didn’t tell me both her parents were hurt, and I suppose my husband couldn’t have for HIPPA reasons. Lash, how are your parents doing? I’m so sorry, I should have led with that.”

Grateful for something a little less formal, I relaxed. “Baba - my father - is home and doing much better than expected.  He lost his leg, but is very determined to learn to use the prosthesis.  His physical therapist actually threatened to take it away because he rubbed blisters from pushing himself too hard.” I gave a small laugh. “It’s good to see, though.  And Mama came home two days ago… she is still on breathing treatments, but off of twenty-four-seven oxygen - she had smoke inhalation damage.  She was very upset she still cannot shout at Baba when he is being stubborn, but my sister found an airhorn from somewhere and no one has had peace since.”  I stopped for a drink of water and noticed all eyes on me. My face flushed and I covered my mouth. “Oh my gosh, I was rambling, I’m so sorry.”

Nils grabbed my hand. “Don’t apologize, I love you.” He blinked. “When you talk about your family, I mean.”  

Mrs. Andover was watching us, oblivious to me trying to process that Nils had just said that, and she started chuckling, abruptly. “I can’t say airhorn is the method I’d have gone with, but…it’s good to know that men are stubborn like that across race, culture, creed, or birth.” Her voice took on the slight timbre of an old poem near the end.

Nils blinked. “Did. Did you just quote Rudyard Kipling at my Indian-American girlfriend?” 

“Pakistani-Indian,” I corrected absently. “And yes, but it’s still very true.  You’re just as stubborn as Baba, you just had more appropriate clothing on.”

His mother blushed, his father didn’t seem to recognize why what his wife had done might have been a faux pas, and I forged ahead to keep things from going south as Dr. Andover changed the subject. “Have either of you eaten here before? It’s a bit upscale from the places Nils prefers, normally.” 

Nils glowered. “I took her here for the first date.” 

Mrs. Andover smiled. “Oh, very nice.” The waiter came by and took our orders, refilling the glasses with water. “This place is really spicy, especially the Ethiopian side of the menu.”

Then his father asked a question, and Nils glared at him with absolute loathing. “So, Lash, you and Nils made quite the effective television appearance. You’re already doing a lot in public service, do you have any designs in a career there?”

Nils squeezed my knee under the table, but this was the one question I had been bracing myself for, thankfully. “Well, my goal is to set up a business that focuses on boosting the visibility of nonprofits, while contributing a significant portion of our revenue into areas where it can create the biggest impact: schools, literacy programs, health education, things like that.  Try to shore up the foundations where normal budgets may not be able to.”  And here’s hoping Nils doesn’t die trying not to laugh at that answer.

“Hm.” Mrs. Andover glowered at her husband as he continued, this was clearly an argument they’d had before, “And those are all worthy goals, but going directly into politics with your education and Nils’, together, you could directly impact all of those, and their budgets, far more direct power with what you can do, if you’re willing to get into the system together and change it.”

I shook my head firmly. “I understand where you are coming from, Dr. Andover, but I’m sure it surprises nobody here that I very much disagree.  Public office is far more restrictive than independent enterprise, foremost - I would have to balance special interests with what would be considered ‘pet projects’, whereas through my own business I can connect the charities with who needs them the most, while ensuring the charities are as visible as possible to maximize their operating budgets.  And besides, Nils doesn’t strike me as someone who would thrive in public office.” I turned to him and visibly squeezed his hand. “No offense.”

“None taken. My father has rarely, if ever, liked the idea of me going into policy rather than running for office, despite the fact that policy experts maintain far more freedom to operate in personal lives while having more influence than politicians - just much less prestige. Honestly I don’t know what led people to believe I’d be good at public office. I gave one very smooth speech on TV.” He took on that slightly mocking tone that I abruptly realized must have been from a lifetime of practice. “Which, to be fair, does seem like the majority of what voters expect. And Father - never try to push my girlfriend into your side of this argument again. I know the only reason you tried to do this is because you thought she’d help me with demographics I’d otherwise struggle with - nice code for ‘people of color that white boy extraordinaire Nils Andover can’t exactly relate to’ by the way.”

I let the silence that followed hang for a moment while the waiter set down our food, before giving Mrs. Andover an openly curious look. “Don’t worry, babe.  I am sure your mother strongly agrees.”  When she looked surprised, I casually gestured with my water. “After all, Mrs. Andover, you’re a non-name partner in a law firm prestigious enough to represent a class action lawsuit against not just the city, but the police, and yet I’ve never seen you run for office.  Surely with that kind of acumen, you would be a shoo-in for the public defender’s office, or the DA.  All the way up to Attorney General, easily.”  Nils looked at me in confusion, and I murmured “You seriously thought I wasn’t going to look up the law firm that is representing my community? She’s partner, Nils.”

“I’m aware how she ranks in her firm,” he murmured back, “I guess I didn’t put that together, good eye.” 

Mrs. Andover chuckled. “Oh, I like the two of you together. Good eye, Lash. People should stay where they think they can make the strongest impact in what they’re passionate about - if you don’t think that’s office, don’t run for office. Oh, and Lash, offhand - I can’t say why, but your community ought to start taking notes about any and all interactions with the police from here on out.” 

Nils smirked. “That means they’re going to be unhappy with the results of the lawsuit.”

Mrs. Andover flicked a wrist. “No, just that her and her community ought to be taking notes and keeping documentation. Any further statements cannot be made at this time.”

“Mama is a secretary,” I assured them. “Taking notes is a compulsion for her, and letting her know will give her something to do other than honk at us.”

“I���m glad. Let her know I’d be happy to speak to her directly as well.” She slipped me a card. 

Nils took a bite of his food, simply enjoying the blend of spices - and then turned to watch his father take a gulp of water. I had been training him to increase his tolerance, and almost certainly to flex he’d ordered one of the spiciest things on the menu. 

Granted, even my tolerance wasn’t that high, so he was almost certainly just hiding the pain to fuck with his parents. I just grinned and scooped up a bite of stew. “I don’t know exactly what they add to the okra stew to make it so good, but it is certainly in my top ten favorite dishes.  Mrs. Andover?” I had noticed she’d ordered the same - a very mild but extremely flavorful stew.

“Oh, it’s excellent. One of the reasons I love coming here. I’m glad Nils took you here for the first date. Means some of what I taught him stuck.” 

Nils blushed. “I mean…good food, good company?” He was dutifully eating his food, but I could hear him struggling not to choke, shifting between pleasure and agony with each bite.

His mother gave him a flat look. “Make a girl feel special, take her somewhere nice with a bunch of really good options.” 

Finally, I had mercy on both my boyfriend and his profoundly rude father and waved down our server. “I am really craving spiced buttermilk… any chance we can get four glasses of it?  I don’t mind paying extra if it has to be made special. I didn’t see it on the menu.”

“Absolutely not. We invited you,” to my surprise, Nils’ father spoke first. “We’ll cover. But yes, spiced buttermilk would be good.” 

In much less time than I expected, the server had returned with four glasses of thick, bright orange drink.  No sooner had he walked away than I took a long sip of mine, rolling my eyes in exaggerated pleasure. “Buttermilk with turmeric, ginger, saffron, cinnamon, and a chai infusion.  It compliments the food so well.”

Nils took a slow sip, clearly restraining himself from chugging, and took a breath. “It is excellent. Thank you for the suggestion.” He took another bite of the chicken, tasting the spice, the flavor, the heat, and then a slow sip of the milk. I could see a slight bead of sweat tracing down the side of his face, and wondered, briefly, about my boyfriend’s pain tolerance. And why he was doing this. 

Mrs. Andover took a sip of her own, eyes widening. “Oh, this is lovely!” She pushed the last glass closer to her husband. “It’s… The closest I can describe it is it’s like a glass of melted orange sherbet. You should try it.”

After the first sip, every ounce of Dr. Andover’s composure collapsed as he inhaled half the glass.  The facade was immediately put back in place however, as he sat up straight and set the glass down gently. “I agree, it’s quite the compliment to the food.  I may indulge in a second, but we shall see.”

Nils took another bite of the berber-slathered chicken, smiling at the taste, and took a sip of the milk before the wave of heat hit him - he seemed to have gotten the timing down, since the facade no longer looked quite so forced. “Excellent suggestion, Lash. Would anyone like to try each other’s dishes?”

Mrs. Andover blinked, but smiled. “Oh, does Lash’s family do that, too? I know the Parsons do, and since Lash and I ordered the same thing…Here, Lash, you can have some of my side if I can have some of yours.” 

I grinned, nodding. “My family eats communal meals, usually, so we all share, yes. But… I didn’t get to try the rosti last time and will gladly swap you for some of my dolmades - they’re not spicy, but very pickled.”

She smiled, and put some of the rostis on my plate and took some of my dolmades. I wisely turned down some of what Nils had ordered, and sensing my trepidation, so did his mother - though we both took some of his side, and gave him a bit of ours. His father blindly lunged ahead, clearly thinking the idea of swapping was ridiculous but not wanting to annoy his wife, and took a bit of Nils’ chicken, and Nils took a bit of the goat from his father, eating it with a smile. 

I could feel the malevolence in Nils smile as his father bit into the berber-slathered chicken and rapidly gulped the milk, all trace of composure gone. “How…how were you keeping your calm through eating that the whole meal?” He managed to get out between gasps.

“I’m dating an Indian-Pakistani girl. She’s been training my spice tolerance.” Nils’ voice was casual. 

Mrs. Andover seemed to be ignoring her son and husband’s antics, instead calmly gesturing with a spoon at her spouse’s meal. “How spicy is that?”  When I glanced at the men, she shook her head. “They’ve always been like that, it’s best not to engage.”

I glanced again, before staring at the goat and trying to remember what had been ordered.  Slowly, I answered. “It isn’t very spicy - I think it’s a bit bland, to be honest - but because it’s so fatty, the spice stays around and builds.  You’re supposed to eat it with a bread or some other carb, to help.”

Without asking, she scooped a chunk of goat onto each of our plates. “Okay, show me. I love trying new things.”

Hesitantly, I tore a piece of bread off, and proceeded to use it to pick a chunk of goat off the bone, sheer habit causing me to use my fingers. The piece came away cleanly, and I shoved the entire bundle in my mouth before realizing what I had done.

To my abject horror, I looked up to see Mrs. Andover - coiffed, coutured, rich Mrs. Andover - with her fingers in her mouth and a look of delight on her face. She chewed quickly and swallowed before I could apologize for my manners. “Oh, that is so nice!  And much easier than using a fork, no wonder he was struggling so much!”

“Ma’am, I am so sorry - “  I covered my mouth as she tore off another piece of bread and attacked the goat with gusto.

“I asked how it was meant to be eaten, Lash.” She gestured at herself, particularly her face. “Do I look like the kind of woman accustomed to eating spicy food properly?” When I was forced to shake my head, half surprised she’d asked like that, she added. “For God’s sake, Lash, do you think for an instant Nils got his sense of humor from his father?”

I glanced at Dr. Andover - still playing spicy-food chicken with his son and losing decisively - before shaking my head. “I just - Eating with fingers is not an American thing,” I finished lamely.

“As Nils will explain to you or indeed anyone at length - and has explained to me, and his father - that is very much an old world prohibition imported from upper-class Europeans, and lower-class Americans only developed issues with it when the average American became wealthy enough to have easy access to silverware. He will remind everyone who even tangentially brings this up how recent that is.” She gave a faint smile. “I wasn’t born wealthy, you know. I’m from the generation of Americans where one could work their way through college provided one started out merely middle class.” 

“ ‘Merely’,” I mused. “And trust me that I am the last person Nils will need to lecture about silverware.  He’s seen Baba eat palak paneer with his fingers and an extreme amount of dignity.” I paused and made a confused face. “I am still not sure how he keeps it out of his moustache, I’ll be honest. And it’s quite a moustache. He’s very proud of it.”

She chuckled. “Fair enough. I suppose I should have said, ‘I’m not judging’. My husband came from money, I did not. I think you and Nils are great together, by the way. I love the way you talk to each other.” 

“We do argue, sometimes,” I confessed. “But usually it’s cultural, and we find our way through pretty quickly.  My parents adore him, so there’s that.  Mori - my sister - tolerates him well enough, which is practically a glowing approval from her.”

“A young man like Nils should have a partner he argues with. If there’s no arguments with a personality like that, it means either one of you is totally bulling over the other by force of will, or both of you are taking turns manipulating the other. Working through arguments when they come up is a much better sign.” She shrugged. “I’m glad your parents like him. I like you - and as to my husband…you impressed him and he respects you and your family. That will, in the long run, be better than him just “liking” you.” 

I caught Nils stabbing another chunk of hallucigenically spicy chicken, and snatched his plate and fork away with the same hand. “I am not going to coddle you later when that is just as spicy as it was going in,” I warned him calmly.  “Rice, sherbet, and buttermilk.”

Nils nodded. “Got it babe.”

Mrs. Andover pulled the dregs of the goat away from her spouse, pointing at me and Nils. “Same thing. Rice, sherbert, dairy. Lash is a lovely and clever girl, stop antagonizing our son, insert lecture here.”  With that, she rested her chin elegantly on her intertwined fingers, winking at me. “I think you and I are going to get along great.  You have my number, let’s set up a ladies’ day - invite your mother and sister.  I’ll treat if your family chooses the restaurant.”

One and a half out of two was a win in my books. “I’ll talk to them about it, see if we can schedule it before Mori heads back home.”