#Neither did college critiques

[amerasdreams]

I wonder if writing almost daily from age 13-18 inoculated me against writers block.

I hope so.

#I... don't really get it #I get in certain corners #But I just. Write badly #Then it gets better as I write the words get jogged loose #Or I reread and write notes #I wonder if writers block is a sort of burnout? In which case you SHOULD take a break #Do nice east things if u want to do some writing related thing #I wasn't critiqued during all that time so it was all pleasant #It's also a very. Ridiculous novel #But didn't put me off writing #Neither did college critiques #Reading tho.... never the same after college #And I was a voracious reader #What is this? #I hope my love of writing will always override any sort of attacks on it

[kooshours]

knee pads - jeon jungkook x reader.

summary: in which you couldn't resist your boyfriend's delicious thighs in those knee pads of his... and he realized just how much you loved them. college volleyball player!jungkook x reader.

warnings: mostly just smut, thigh riding, smug jungkook, use of praise. 1.9k words.

author's note: this is my first post so if there's any advice or critiques i'd love to hear it! while writing the post, i was imagining him in knee pads like these (like bokuto from haikyū). happy reading :)

_______________________________________________

You absolutely loved your boyfriend. Having been with him for almost two years now, you knew everything about each other. At least that's what you thought. The two of you had met during your third year of high school when you had accidentally gotten hit in the head with one of his spikes. Painful, yes. But you would go through it hundreds more times if it meant being able to stay with Jungkook.

Although he was in college now, his burning desire to play volleyball had never died down. It was clearly visible by the way you were watching him play. You didn't get to watch him as much these days because his volleyball practices seemed to clash with your swim lessons. You both had gone to the same college, but having completely different sports were very time consuming for the both of you.

Although he had matured much from high school, he was still truly a goofball at heart. That's what you loved most about him. It's what made Jungkook himself. His thirst for victory, praise, improvement. Most of all, his competitiveness. He dripped with pride every time he would land a spike, which seemed to be every time the volleyball was tossed to him. Everyone on his team was amazing, but he was the only person you were focused on.

Your eyes trailed over every square inch of his body, but most importantly, those thighs. Though they were concealed by the kneepads he wore, watching eagerly for every tiny sliver of skin that would become exposed when he moved around was addicting. The kneepads, to you, were a huge bonus. It was something neither you or Jungkook had noticed before, but you really liked how they made his legs look.

By the time his game was over, your fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your black pleated skirt. You stared as Jungkook's eyes searched for you in the crowd, and the way they lit up when they had finally landed on you. You both shared a smiling wave before he followed Taehyung into the locker room to grab his stuff. You stood up from your chair, grabbing his jacket and walking downstairs to meet him when he exited the men's locker room.

When you arrived at the front door, it wasn't long until you were pulled into a pair of strong arms. You giggled when your cheek came in contact with his chest, and stood on your tippy toes to give your boyfriend a kiss.

"So, how did I do?" He asked as the two of you started walking out to your car.

"You did perfect, as always, Koo." You grinned lazily. The volleyball player seemed to be oblivious to the grip you had on the hem of your skirt, or the slight blush on your cheeks as you devoured the very sight of him.

It was only when you were halfway home that he noticed. When a particular jolt of the car caused the slightest whimper to slip from your lips. He looked over then, seeing the small grimace on your face as you tugged on your clothing and tried to squirm in the seat, searching for one spot that didn't send sensations through your lower half.

"What's wrong, baby?" Jungkook asked. His tone mocked concern, but you could hear the condescending undertone, and you knew you were finally caught. You shook your head, almost too embarrassed to admit you had attracted a dark admiration to the pieces of volleyball gear he was still wearing.

You grabbed at the door handle when the car was suddenly stopped. You stared at your surroundings, wondering when the hell you two had ended up at an empty grocery store parking lot.

"I asked what was wrong." He repeated, glaring at his steering wheel with a small smirk.

"I-I can't, Koo..." You mumbled.

"Oh come on, tell me what's running through that pretty brain of yours." You flinched ever so slightly at the sudden touch on the side of your face. His fingertips traced lightly down your temple, jawline, and to your chin. His fingertips tightened there, forcing your head to turn to meet his eyes.

"I uh, couldn't stop watching you during the match.." Your eyes were focused on your seatbelt buckle beneath you, trying to look anywhere but Jungkook as you admitted the last part. "Your thighs."

"You were..." He trailed off, feeling his lips turn upwards in a cocky smile. Jungkook's hand appeared at the seatbelt buckle, undoing it. "Come here, pretty girl." He tapped on one of his thighs. Shamefully, you moved in the car until you were sat on one of his thighs, your hands grasping at his broad shoulders.

He stroked your face lovingly, but the look in his eyes was enough to make you shudder. He pulled your face in, going in for what looked like a kiss, but his lips narrowly missed yours. He kissed at the corner of your lips, and trailed to your jawline, which he knew contained the spot that made you weak at the knees.

"Tell me more." He muttered against your jawline.

"I... I- fuck, Koo." You squirmed against his thigh, but the sudden friction of his knee pads sent a shiver up your spine, and you couldn't help the sound that escaped your mouth. At first, he had thought it was due to the kisses he was now trailing down your neck, but when he had shifted his leg to get a better grip on you, his lips froze against your collarbone.

His eyebrow cocked at the look on your face. "What's this?" Jungkook asked, eyes drinking up the expression on your face. Your bottom lip had rolled in between your teeth, and your eyes had been screwed shut. Your head was instinctively leaned into his left hand, feeling as if you couldn't sit up straight if he wasn't holding you.

"I fantasized about..." He had flexed his thigh when you didn't finish your sentence, and he knew for certain what you were thinking about when your hips reacted instinctively to the sudden movement. "God, Koo, I fantasized about riding your thigh!" You half shouted, shivering at the friction.

You couldn't stand the look he was giving you, so you grabbed his face and smashed your lips onto his in an attempt to get you to stop. One of his hands grabbed at your waist, lifting you up, while the other worked to slip his knee pad down off his thighs.

"With the knee pads on." You added, breaking away from the needy kiss with a gasp. His hands froze in their spot, and after a few beats of intense silence, he pulled the black material back up with a single tug. You both pulled each other back into the kiss seconds later.

A hot trail was left as his hands rested on your hips, kneading them. Your skin felt on fire, and every inch of skin he had touched had caused goosebumps to form. His hands maneuvered up your skirt, and your mouth opened with a moan as he guided your hips along his thigh. He took this chance to deepen the kiss, trying his hardest to keep his own sinful sounds at bay as he thought about the idea of you getting off with nothing but his thigh.

Of course he knew he had good thighs. Years of vigorous training had built tight muscles. He just didn't know you were that infatuated with them. He had never thought you would've loved to ride his thigh with his knee pads on. When the both of you broke the kiss to catch your breath, you buried your face into the crook of his neck.

"Look at the beautiful mess you're making on me." You hadn't realized your wetness had trailed down the rough fabric, you were only focusing on the growing burn in your lower abdomen. Your hips were now moving at their own steady pace, and you were trying your best to keep quiet.

His breath had migrated to your ear, where he softly bit on your earlobe. "So needy." He muttered, suddenly pushing your hips down with both of his hands. Any attempt to stay quiet flew out the window as you cried his name into his neck. One thing that swelled his pride more than anything else was hearing you cry out his first name in such a sinful manner. It sounded like a melody he always wanted to hear.

"You just love the thought of using my body to get off, don't you?" He asked, pushing your hips down once again. You swore you had seen a flash of white as the angle his thigh moved against your clit. You raised your hand to bite down on at an attempt to keep any dignity you had left, but you let out an audible whine as he forced your hips to stop moving.

"I want to see and hear you." Jungkook commanded. You shamefully pulled your head from his shoulder, making eye contact with him. He knew how embarrassed you got whenever he forced you to look at him, but that's what he loved about it. He loved how you grew so flustered.

You forced yourself to lock eyes with him as your hips rutted against his thigh, desperate to build up what he had just denied moments earlier. Once you had gotten too lost in the lust and heat of the moment, you had grown less and less ashamed.

"Koo, you make me feel so good..." You mewled.

"Yeah?" He asked, bouncing his leg ever so slightly.

"Yes, so, so, so good. I love you so much." He could already feel himself hardening painfully at the praise given as your orgasm was close to reaching its hilt.

"That's right, baby. You're doing so good. So beautiful." You had grown more desperate with his words, and your hips had started to lose the rhythm you had previously worked so long to maintain.

"I'm so close..." You trailed off.

"Come on, make a mess on my kneepads. I know you want to so bad, to show everyone who I belong to. You'd like the idea of that, hm? Everyone knowing that I am yours, and you're mine. All mine." Jungkook hissed.

"All yours!" You cried out.

"Cum for me, angel."

That was the final push that sent you over the edge into bliss. You had cried his name out in ecstasy, your upper body going limp in your boyfriend's arms, and your thighs spasming as you stained the black material even further.

"Don't go out on me now, not when I'm not nearly finished with you." His voice was distant, but there. There enough for you to know it was going to be a very long night for both of you.

~~~

"Jungkook, what's that stain there?" Taehyung asked, pointing to the stain that had appeared on Jungkook's kneepads magically. Jungkook feigned confusion, looking at them with mock shock.

"Don't know, it's probably food." The setter nodded at his explanation, not caring enough to push him anymore.

That game, he walked onto the court with the proudest smile on his face. You had choked on your water upon seeing the very visible stain on your boyfriend's volleyball gear. It had been about a week since those events, and he had been wearing his other pair of kneepads. Now that he was at an actual game, he decided to pull the soiled ones out and wear them.

Before the game started, his eyes met your widened ones in the crowd, and he sent a wink your way. That smug bastard.

#jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeongguk imagine #jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook smut

[some-pers0n]

Gotta be honest that, even if I love Will Wood, I/Me/Myself shouldn't be on Spotify's Queercore playlist.

"Playlist for queer punk artists"

a) Will isn't punk

b) I/Me/Myself is more emo and pop jazz than punk

c) Will isn't queer (he did identify as queergender but then went back to cis male cause he realized him liking to be feminine some times didn't impact his gender)(he's also not gay)(didn't kiss enough boys in college ig)

d) I/Me/Myself is a critique of gender identity and how it's ultimately kinda meaningless in the grand scheme of things and how you should just be happy as yourself as opposed to fitting into the dichotomy of boy, girl, or neither

and e) literally any other actual queer punk artist would be more deserving of a spot there than screamy rat man who makes evil circus music and songs about being unlovable (in a straight way tho)

#sp-rambles

[the-storyteller-and-her-soldiers]

Royalty S/I and Background

Basics Name: Rebecca Grace Ann Stinheart Age: 20  Origin of Birth: Born in Clearflower Hospital to a couple out of wedlock  Current Location: Rosenfield Castle Education: An Honors Sophomore College Student Occupation: Princess of Rosenfield (And Part-time cashier for her own spending money)

Appearance  Height: 5 Feet Body Type: Petite yet curvaceous Eye Color: Brown Skin Type and Tone: Smooth, pale cream Hair: It does change rather frequently, but as of now, it is a short, stylishly messy maroon bob with teal roots and auburn highlights Fashion Sense: From Gowns of the finest silk to paint-stained shirts and ripped-up pants, Rebecca will wear whatever she sees fit for the occasion

Background To say that the Aster-Blossom empire is well-known would be an understatement. The tales of the empire’s establishment and the fledgling years were lost amongst the withered petals of time. Yet how it has grown in size, populace, and way of life is a topic that many people, both well-versed and those unaware of its exact location, discuss rather openly in the current day. 

Unlike other empires that have had rulers both hated and revered, the most topical ruler within the history of the Aster-Blossom is the current empress Alys. She is known for having taken the throne at such a young age. Then with her power, she practically reformed the empire from a warmongering and iron-fisted tyranny to that of a blossoming haven for those seeking refuge.

Among the many feats that people discuss when it comes to Empress Alys, they commonly bring up her adoption of a lowly street child instead of having her own or taking in a noble ally’s child.

This choice for a singular common-blooded heir was a high debate, an excuse for skepticism, and critique by other royals, nobles, and commoners. They all wondered if this was no more than a publicity stunt. Perhaps the child was being used for darker motives that the masses dare not even speak of when it came to their empress. Yet when these opinions would reach Alys, all she would do is a nod in understanding and maybe even laugh. She then professed that fate had brought her and this child together, so she thanked the holy ones for granting her such a light.

But what child, especially one of bastard blood and urchin origins, could have struck such emotion into such a powerful woman? Well, that is what many people asked whenever they interacted with a young Rebecca. When it came to appearances, she wasn’t much. One could argue she was at a disadvantage because of the condition that sent trembles through her already weakened body. That is partly why her birth parents had given her to the Black Rose orphanage ten years into her life. She wasn’t of any use! Yet what the empress and many others came to see was her spirit. Despite being scorned by other children and even by those who had brought her into the world, the young girl did not succumb to vile emotions.

It was during one of Empress Alys’ visits to the orphanage that she told the empress when she was asked if there was anything she could want: “I’m grateful for the little and simple things since that’s enough to make me happy, and I want to use my time to try and make others happy because, in the end, that’s all anyone will ever have.”

After that exchange, and seemingly overnight, Rebecca went from pauper to princess. She was overwhelmed, but not in a bad way. Her world went from being filled with constant fighting and belittlement to affections, kindness, and cooperation that was sincere. There were a few ‘growing pains’ as the girl tried to get used to a life that was too good to be true. But through the proper treatment of her mother along with friends and professionals that helped her work through her past and focus on her future, Rebecca truly blossomed into an ambitious but sweet rose of the court!

Currently: With her commoner background, as well as her mother wanting to grant her the ‘average’ childhood that neither had, Rebecca’s still taking time to figure out her life path. She mainly goes to college with her friends. She also works at a shop in the capital city Rosenfield to earn her wages for fun stuff, and meet with her people without the pomp and circumstance. If one were to see her in the day-to-day, it’d be pretty easy to forget about her royal ties. Her mother still loves to spoil her but is happy to see that throughout everything Rebecca is still the sweet soul that she found and nurtured. 

Though that doesn’t mean things in the Rosenfield castle are quiet, in fact, they rarely ever are. Alys handles political tactics and threats, while Rebecca seems to be an expert with diplomacy and the morale of the people.

But even the greatest diplomats can be threatened, so to mix that knowledge with a mother’s protectiveness, was a bit much for the Empress now that her daughter had grown and was so eager to explore and aid every nook and cranny of the world. So Alys had amassed the greatest fighters from all lands and lifestyles to protect her daughter. (It was also to fluster the young royal since it was so cute to see many of the men come to pine for the princess… But an empress never tells such vital secrets…)

Crownsguard Members (Thinking of a unique name like ‘RozenGuard’ or something with thorns… STILL THINKING!)

Alyssa (Ace) - Ace is Rebecca’s best friend from even before her time in Black Rose. Ace is extremely protective of the princess, to the point that she’d break several rules to visit and check in with Rebecca when the two were still young girls. Her spitfire personality reminded Alys of herself, and the two became close when Ace finally learned she could just come into the castle and check in on Rebecca rather than climbing through windows. Ace is the closest person to a second child that Alys has, considering how she and Rebecca are practically inseparable. She even extended the offer to Ace after making sure Rebecca was okay with it. But Ace politely declined, remarking that princess stuff wasn’t her thing and just wanted to be the princess's guard.

Raiden - originally sent to the Aster-Blossom empire as a refuge after being used as a child soldier for another kingdom, he had met Empress Alys in Rosenfield when they were both budding adults. The two had become close to the point they were sparring partners frequently to keep their defense up but let their personal guards lower. So shortly after Alys had adopted Rebecca, he was the first one she could trust enough to protect her child.

Nero - Alys had met the young half(quarter?)-demon a few years after adopting her daughter. She had to do a double take when the boy stalked closely behind an old friend and current contractor of hers, as she wondered if the man had a kid of his own. But she couldn’t help smiling when she saw Rebecca bound up to the younger man and hugging him as if they knew each other. She learned this wasn’t Dante’s kid, but family nonetheless, and that this boy looked out for Rebecca in Black Rose and was someone Rebecca had looked for since. Upon learning the reason he had followed Dante was to check in and make sure her daughter was alright, Alys allowed Nero to continue to see Rebecca. When she saw that, despite his stand-offish nature, he cared deeply for the girl and was capable of handling himself in a decent fight, Alys extended an offer to him.

Gladio - The Shield to the prince of Lucis was someone that Alys had met briefly a few times when the prince and his father visited on matters of diplomacy before adopting Rebecca. She never thought too much of him until she had caught her daughter sneaking glances with rosy cheeks his way. When she caught the young man flirting with her daughter, she had to bite her tongue to keep from asking the King of Lucis to keep the Shield away so that she wouldn’t pummel the kid. But she did manage to pull the young man aside and quietly explain that her daughter wasn’t a toy like he may have thought other girls were, and if anything harmful happened to her that he was the cause of, he’d need someone to protect him. Now that both Rebecca and Gladio are older, whenever Lucis and Aster-Blossom have overlapping diplomatic visits to attend to, Rebecca and Ace will tag along with the prince and his guards…

Robby - Yet another one of Rebecca’s friends before her adoption, Robby was the third member of the little gang Rebecca had. While he wasn’t as brunt as Ace was, he’d still sneak in to keep in contact with Rebecca… At least for a little while. But after a year or two, Robby seemingly vanished. That is, until a few years later when he and Rebecca were both 16. The town guard had brought him before Alys with charges of several petty crimes. Alys recognized the boy and was both impressed but disappointed by his actions. Though she could see that he wasn’t bad at heart, just misguided… Rebecca happened to come in during sentencing and vouched she’d pay whatever Robby owed from her personal funds if he got a second chance. The act was so sweet that Alys agreed to go easy on him, but she’d be keeping an eye on him. This worked out for the best though, seeing how in the right environment with the right encouragement, the young man got his life together.

Yagami - After learning of a man who had one hell of a hand in fixing the reputation and overall atmosphere of one of the most ‘prestigious’ academies in the capital city, Alys had decided to take a look into him. Her daughter may be pursuing independent studies now, but that doesn’t mean she’d have to handle her test anxiety on her own. So after arranging a meeting with the man that so many students gawked at and gushed about, Alys sort of understood the hype. He acted as an advisor to countless clubs and unions, acted formerly as a lawyer, and wasn’t a total tight-ass? Perhaps this gig would be even better than all the pompous tutors Alys had hired, plus for a quarter of the charge! Yet with such a chill nature, messy hair, and a leather jacket to boot, who knows what the princess may really study…

Kaito - For many years, Masaharu Kaito was quite well-known within Aster-Blossom's underworld of crime. In fact, he was climbing the ranks of one of the biggest anarchy families. But little did he know how the exiled wanted to do more than exile him... But that all changed when he had run into Rebecca one evening. He didn't know that she was a part of everything they told him to hate, so when he saw some lesser members of his clan harassing her, he stepped in. Rebecca was so shocked that this man didn't expect a reward or want one when she offered, that she insisted she should take him home to at least heal him. Alys knew of Kaito's ties and was wary but considering that Rebecca was safe and nothing was stolen when he bid her goodnight, she let this man leave with his life. But only days later, his clan had staged an incident to kill Kaito or kick him out if he managed to live. It took Kaito a bit to process everything. In mere days, he learned that the clan he swore his life to saw him as exposable and the ones that they hated seemed to be the exact opposite of all he learned... With nowhere else to turn, he returned to the castle and pleaded with Alys to let him keep protecting the princess and turn over a new leaf.

Jack - A knight from a kingdom unknown to anything but forgotten memories, Jack has spent many years wandering the world and hunting a looming entity only known as Chaos. Rumors of such a being are the only reason why he’d find himself in Rosenfield. He meets with Alys and very bluntly demands that she tell what she knows. Alys is a bit pissed, seeing as she doesn’t take that crap from anyone, but if this poor idiot wants to go die then she won’t stop him. But to have her vengeance she decides to string him along just a bit. Despite them both acting to get their own needs fulfilled, this game turns out to be mutually beneficial. Yet one of the times that Jack is returning to Alys, he bumps into Rebecca. The young princess seemingly sparks some sense of emotion within the brash, self-serving man. This spark only intensifies when the princess notices his injuries and insists to treat them so that this tireless man actually gets a moment of rest! Alys can’t say that she enjoys this man getting close and how he seems fixated on her daughter, but she can admit that it is a sight to see this man figuratively dance around her. Maybe keeping him around while he’s useful won’t be so bad…

SIDENOTE: All of this is like a basis for just your standard, happy, royalty AU! I definitely do wanna introduce some form of magic even though the world in my head is basically like FFXV in the sense that it’s modern and everything! With that being said, all of this was written at like 3-7 AM without sleep, so any feedback is appreciated!

Tags: @disneymarina @canongf @singingdeepinme @hadesgoddess @jellyfish-ships @ignited-lovers @floweringforgetfulness @goldenworldsabound

#royalty au #selfshipdom #selfship community #self shipping #self insert #self insert community #ship: the demon and the choir girl #ship: the storyteller and her shield #selfship #ship: paradise found #ship: the storyteller and her detective #ship: the tale of a delinquent and the top student #ship: a promise for the present #ship: the ripper's rose

[mediaevalmusereads]

Ace of Spades. By Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé. Feiwel and Friends, 2021.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: YA thriller

Series: N/A

Summary: Welcome to Niveus Private Academy, where money paves the hallways, and the students are never less than perfect. Until now. Because anonymous texter, Aces, is bringing two students' dark secrets to light.

Talented musician Devon buries himself in rehearsals, but he can't escape the spotlight when his private photos go public. Head girl Chiamaka isn't afraid to get what she wants, but soon everyone will know the price she has paid for power.

Someone is out to get them both. Someone who holds all the aces. And they're planning much more than a high-school game...

***Full review below.***

CONTENT WARNINGS: racism (including use of the n-word), underage drinking, distribution of a sex tape featuring a minor, homophobia (including forced outing), bullying, drug use, hit and run car accident, PTSD, stalking

OVERVIEW: I believe I was reading a post about dark academia when I stumbled onto this novel. Thrillers aren't typically my genre, but I was promised a critique of institutional racism in the education system, so I picked it up. Overall, I think this book was very well done; it was quick, it had high stakes, and it had characters that you really felt for, even with all their flaws. The main reason why I'm giving it 4 stars is because I felt the ending was rushed and relied on way too many coincidences. But other than that, I enjoyed the reading experience.

WRITING: Àbíké-Íyímídé's prose is gripping and easy to read. I felt like it balanced showing and telling well, and it moved at a pace that felt neither too slow nor too quick. Dialogue felt natural, and though there are some instances of slang or pop culture references, I don't think they'll be too much of a drag on the writing as the book ages.

PLOT: The plot of this book follows Devon and Chiamaka, the only two Black students at an elite private high school. Devon and Chiamaka find themselves targeted by a mysterious figure named Aces who leaks their secrets to the student body via text. These secrets threaten to get the two kicked out of school and denied acceptance to college, so the two team up to take Aces down before their futures are destroyed.

Overall, I think Àbíké-Íyímídé did a great job crafting suspense. The bullying (for lack of a better word) is not your typical everyday harassment (not that bullying is ever "normal" or insignificant), but life and future-threatening actions that make the stakes incredibly high. There also aren't a lot of dull moments where characters are sitting around; it felt like every scene was purposeful, whether to advance the plot or develop character relationships, so even though this book was over 400 pages, it moved quickly and kept me engaged.

The only part of the plot that I didn't think was well-done was the ending. Without spoiling anything, I will say that I think the ending relies on too many coincidences to happen - things that are outside the characters' control. I also felt like after everything was done, there was a sense of finality and security that just didn't seem quite believable, and though I don't want the characters to be tormented for the rest of their lives, I do think things ended a little too suddenly and neatly.

CHARACTERS: Devon, one of our protagonists, is sympathetic in that he struggles with trying to belong while also feeling guilty about his privilege. Devon comes from a low-income neighborhood and attends school on a scholarship; his mother barely has enough money to cover bills and fees, and Devon sometimes resorts to drug dealing to help out. Devon's perspective is incredibly insightful for the way it examines the struggles of Black kids from low-income families to fit in with white kids; not only does Devon have to contend with feeling like an outsider, but he has to confront those from his own neighborhood who resent him for his opportunities.

TL;DR: Ace of Spades is a dark academia thriller that critiques the systematic racism present in the education system. While the ending left a lot to be desired, the complex protagonists, quick pace, and high stakes meant that I was highly engaged, and I look forward to more from this author in the future.

Chiamaka, our other protagonist, offers a different perspective. She is a biracial girl from a wealthy family, and she is highly ambitious. She uses the people around her to get what she wants, and to be honest, I kind of liked her ruthless pursuit of her goals. Of course, there are moments when Chiamaka's behavior is problematic, but I loved watching her put her mind and her scheming to work.

Belle and Terrell were the biggest surprises, and I really liked how Àbíké-Íyímídé used them to A.) give our protagonists a confidante, and B.) explore tangential themes such as queerness, education and class, and family.

Still, I think this book would have had a greater emotional impact if a little more was done with certain characters - namely Jack, Andre, and some of then teachers/staff at the school. While the way they are written now is fine, I think I would have had a bigger reaction to their arcs if they were more involved with the plot earlier on. I feel the importance of these characters to the protagonists are told to us rather than shown, and we were expected to care about changes to their behavior before it was established (emotionally) what they meant to the protagonists.

[neon-in-the-night-time]

when i was a kid watching the high school musical sequels i would always get so frustrated at sharpay because at the end of every movie she's like "hey guys im nice now im gonna stop being awful to anyone who dares disrupt my status quo :)" and then we get to the next movie and ten minutes in she's like "sike im evil again >:)"

but now that im an adult in their 20s watching the high school musical sequels i get way more frustrated at troy. like every single movie he's all "ooh i dont know about this singing thing guys it was just this thing i did one time for fun it didn't mean anything" and it takes him till the last 10 minutes of the movie and a breakup with gabriella for him to actually commit to it and like. bro. nobody gives a shit just do it... like why is it this hard for you to choose to do both... like in hsm3 he doesn't even choose it for himself he's lumped in with all the seniors who kelsey involuntarily signed up. ms darbus submits an application for julliard for him. it takes him until two days after prom/the day of the spring musical (in real life these take place like 1-2 months apart but whatever) for him to commit to a college and pick a major. he's gonna show up to uc berkley fall of two thousand and eight being like "i dont know guys... i know i double majored so i could keep doing theatre but i don't know about this singing this... i just did it that one time for fun" and his classmates are gonna be like "so why the fuck are you here"

neither of them are allowed to grow as characters. because it is a disney channel original movie. and disney channel original movie characters are not allowed to be dynamic. and yet i still analyze and critique it as if it is peak cinema. because i am a fool. and kenny ortega is a god.

#rambles #high school musical

[jonesy-and-max]

part 8: Farley & Greg

Jonesy, Max, and Jamie turned to the entrance of Popcorn Video. Max, already growling and bristling.

“Fuck off, Farley! You know the two of you are banned!” Max barked.

Hands tucked into the pockets of her brown, leather bomber jacket, Farley sauntered in, followed by her ever-present pal, Greg, who was always dripping in denim.

Greg lifted his aviators, looking at Farley, “I thought you said our ban ended today?”

“I just re-upped it.” Jonesy smirked.

“It’s a lifetime ban, Greg.” Max snarled.

“Damn, homie,” Farley smiled and bat her blue doe-eyes at Max, “Why are you guys always pickin’ on us?”

“Fuck off, Farley.” Jonesy reiterated.

“I’m just kidding! You guys are always so sensitive,” Farley looked at her nails, “But, Chain-Slaughter does in fact suck.”

“You suck!” Max hopped off the counter.

“Why are you trying to waste this beautiful young woman’s time?” Farley looked Jamie up and down, “Chain-Slaughter has nothing to say, all it is is gratuitous violence, pointless tits, and bad acting.”

Greg chimed in, “It’s ugly, exploitative trash. The special effects are dated, the characters are one dimensional, and the slasher, the star himself, commits the greatest sin of all -”

Farley smirked, “He’s boring.” She wandered from the counter into the aisles, browsing the rentals.

“It’s no surprise that these townie fucks like degenerate trash like Chain-Slaughter.” Greg snorted.

“You say “degenerate trash” like it’s an insult.” Max scoffed.

“Townies? You both still live here!”.

“Um, we go to Farside University!” Greg corrected her.

“Farside is literally a town over!” 

“They’re so jealous, it’s sad.” Farley called from the comedy section. “Ah! Here's a film! An actual movie about something.” She came back over to the counter on her own time and handed it to Jamie.

“Mrs. Doubtfire?” Jamie was understandably confused.

“Mrs. Doubtfire is “about something?” Jonesy nearly rolled her eyes right out of her head.

“Shyah! It’s about divorce, trauma, gender, identity, it’s about how Reagan’s “nucular family” is a joke in this modern ‘90s world, dipshit.” Farley could not have been more serious in her critique.

“What’s Chain-Slaughter about? Murder and titties? Grow up.” Greg backed up his counterpart.

Max grabbed the copy of Mrs. Doubtfire from Jamie’s hands and hurled it across the store. “That’s it! I’ve had it! It’s time to take out the trash!” Max cracked his knuckles and advanced on Greg.

Instead of clutching the lapels of Greg’s jean jacket, Max was surprised to find he was instead holding a bright yellow piece of paper.

“I almost forgot!” Farley’s laugh sounded like a duck that needed medical assistance, “Our band is playing at the Silver Mine tomorrow night. We wanted to personally invite our old pals.”

“You guys are playing the Silver Mine?” Jonesy was stunned. “How that fuck did that happen?”

“Oh, we’re getting quite the following. We’ve toured all over Farside, a bunch of college parties, a lot of choice gigs, honestly. Word’s gotten out, what can we say?” Greg shrugged.

“Italian Wedding is da bomb.” Farley winked at Jamie.

“Italian Wedding” is the name of your band?”

“Nothing gets by you, honey.” Farley looked at Jonesy, “Smart and fine, right?”

Jonesy could feel herself getting sweaty again. “I thought you guys were a Counting Crows cover band?”

Greg turned up his nose at Jonesy, “We’ve matured since then.”

“You know, “maturity?” to be fair, I can’t expect either of you to quite grasp the meaning of that word. I mean, shit, neither of you have changed since high school.” Farley sneered.

Max furrowed his brow, Jonesy raised an eyebrow, “We literally graduated from high school last year.”

Max crossed his arms, “And joke’s on you, I dropped out senior year!” He smiled confidently, nodding at an exasperated Jonesy.

Farley and Greg cackled at the duo.

“Well, this has been fun, but I gotta get going guys.” Jamie pulled the ripcord on this awkward situation.

“Oh! Should I cash out the three Chain-Slaughters for you?” Jonesy tried to regain her professional demeanor. Farley scoffed.

“Um. Actually, you know, I’m gonna think about it? I’m pretty busy right now for four and half hours of blood and… all that other stuff,” Jamie tried to be as polite as she could as she made her way to the exit, “But, like, have fun tonight you two, okay? I’ll see you around, Jonesy.”

Jing-a-ling!

Jonesy slowly turned towards Farley and Greg, narrowed her eyes, “Get the fuck out.” She threatened through gritted teeth.

“What??” Farley looked nervous, but regained her malicious composure, “Oh…oh no. Wait,” She started chuckling, “Did you…did you think you had a shot with Jamie fucking Reynolds?? Oh, sweetie…” She pouted mockingly, “That’s maybe the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Max was starting to feel his brain getting all staticy, “Jonesy can get any girl she wants! She’s the radioactive love child of Henry Rollins and Sarah Connor wrapped in barbwire and deep fried in motherfuckin’ rainbows!”

“You should really have your dog neutered, Jonesy. He’s all neurotic and aggressive.”

Jonesy snapped her fingers, “That explains Greg, I guess.”

“You know Reynolds has a boyfriend right?” Greg chimed in, “She’s not gay, she’s just high all the time.”

Jonesy blushed.

“Let me give you some free advice, Jones,” Farley leaned in close, “You’ll always be a lonely loser with that anchor hanging around your neck. I know you’re a virgin, but Christ, have you ever even been kissed?” They looked each other in the eye, “Don’t you want to accomplish anything in your life?”

Jonesy was quiet. Sweaty and red in the face.

“Grow up. Scrape him off.” Her eyes and Max’s making contact as he raged inside. “There are a lot of open minded women in college. I could introduce you. Just sayin.”

Farley and Greg made their way to the exit, the latter slapping and sticking the flier to the window.

“I really hope you can make it.” Farley made prayer hands, then turned them into middle fingers before disappearing through the door.

Jing-a-ling!

Their braying laughter echoed through the strip mall parking lot as the sun began to set.

“And stay out!” Max yelled after them. “Pfft. Fuck those fucking fucks, Jonesy. No accomplishments! No accomplishments she says?? Then what do you call this?” Max ran around the counter, reaching underneath, and pulled out a Popcorn Video rental. “Check this shit out!”

He tossed the tape to a very quiet Jonesy.

“What is this?” She said, turning it over, “Dude, is that a copy of See You Soon??” She brightened up, but suddenly something about the box didn’t feel right. She turned it over in her hands, the corners looked like they had been gnawed on, and part of the plastic casing was torn. 

Max’s triumphant grin began to waver, the longer he watched Jonesy inspect the box, “What? What is it?”

Jonesy looked up at her oldest and best friend, “Um. Hey, Max?”

“Yeah, Jonesy…?”

She opened the case, already knowing what she would find, “It’s empty, dude.”

#someone actually liked one of my chapters #and i accidentally deleted it #sigh #opening day #oc #story #writing #90s nostalgia #clerks #slice of life

[solatgif]

TGIF: Roundup for April 7, 2023

Happy Easter! In case you missed it, check out our series of devotions for the season on Substack.

We published 4 new articles this week: The “Model Minority” Myth in the Asian American Church by Andrew Lee, 5 Lessons from the Japanese American Internment by Tom Sugimura, Good Grief by Linda Kim, and “Church History” for Kids and Adults: A Book Review.

This newsletter is one of the many ways you can keep in touch with us. Find us on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. For more, check out my Asian American Worship Leaders Facebook group and TGIF Playlist on Spotify. You can reach me on Twitter and Instagram.

Aaron Lee, Editorial Curator

Enter to win these excellent books! Reviews are in the section below. Thanks to The Good Book Company and Robert J. Nash for providing these books for our giveaway, in partnership with my newsletters for @diveindigdeep and FCBC Walnut.

Articles From Around The Web

Heidi Wong: Gods and Gangsters

“Instead of gearing up for the next battle in the culture war, the church must first be willing to abandon the superfluous nature of its mansion in order to be set free from shackles that blind it.”

Samuel Lee: These 3 Japanese Christian Women Changed Their Country

“Meet an early evangelist, an education reformer, and a preacher who held Bible studies with the royal family.”

Daniel Jung: Narco Saints’ Drug-Dealing Pastor

“The Netflix series works as both crime drama and critique of Korean megachurch culture.”

The SOLA College Writing Cohort is our new writing cohort for college-age students to receive mentorship and training as young Christian writers. Editorial Board member Soojin Park will personally be leading this initiative, and she is very excited at the prospect of nurturing the next generation of Asian American thinkers and writers who will help encourage and edify the Church!

Books, Podcasts, Music, And More

TGC Front Row Seat Podcast: Moving to a New Place with Irene Sun

Kristen Wetherell and Kari Olson invite Irene Sun to discuss the challenges and joys of moving to a new place as a pastor’s wife. Irene shares her story of moving from Chicago to Pittsburgh, how prayer was her lifeline through every transition, and the importance of giving thanks to the Lord when we’re in a foreign land.

Gateway Chapel: Hanley Liu

Pastor Hanley reminds us of our deep need for living water that truly satisfies our souls – that all of humanity is in need of this living water. When Jesus was cut off from the living water on the cross, he made a way so that all who trust in him will never thirst again.

Aaron Lee: Related Works

Book Reviews: Wherever You Go, I Want You to Know… (Keepsake Edition) by Melissa B. Kruger, Say the Right Thing by Carolyn Lacey, God’s Not Done with You by John Meador, Words of the Resurrected by Robert J. Nash. Listen to our TGIF playlist on Spotify. Join my Asian American Worship Leaders Facebook group.

Check out the new edition of our SOLA Network Magazine! Download it for free and share it with your friends as a great way to be introduced to the work we do at SOLA Network.

Featured This Week On SOLA Network

Aaron Lee: “Church History” for Kids and Adults: A Book Review

“How did we get from the Great Commission to the modern church today? In Church History, Simonetta Carr presents the important people, places, and events of church history.”

Linda Kim: Good Grief

“When waves of grief wash over me in unexpected ways, I am letting the tears flow. I am inviting them in and allowing myself to sit in the grief because it helps me to know that Jesus sits with me.”

Tom Sugimura: 5 Lessons from the Japanese American Internment

“Although the mass evacuation and incarceration of Japanese Americans were neither right nor wise, the experience nevertheless enriched the church’s spiritual life as nothing else could have. Consider lessons the church today can learn as we minister to fellow believers who similarly face adversity.”

Andrew Lee: The “Model Minority” Myth in the Asian American Church

“Asian Americans continue to live in the liminal space of the margins. This is not to say Asian Americans have not gained that much in both secular and religious life. However, as the ‘model minority,’ we remain on the outside, looking to the majority for guidance and direction in matters of church and faith.”

TGIF: Roundup for March 31, 2023

Judgment for Pastors: How Shepherds Prepare to Meet Jesus / Resisting the Impulse of Self-Optimization / Chinese Christians Adapt Under New Restrictions / On the CROSS Conference / How God’s Daughters Can Create for His Glory

General disclaimer: Our link roundups are not endorsements of the positions or lives of the authors.

[nazitty56]

A Lil Prompt

So I wrote this after work and before bed. I might make a second part to this or even rewrite it as I get critiques later on. 

I got this prompt from an online romance prompt list. Constructive Criticism accepted! Also pretty sure that I didn’t exactly follow the prompt correctly, but I did try to interpret it. 

Their story begins on a bright summer morning when they both awake in bed together with no memory of who they are or where they came from.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Warning: BxB (Boy x Boy)

Juan was pretty sure he was having a nightmare. He must be because there was no way this was happening to him. Just a few hours ago, he was at a college party, no alcohol or drugs involved as far as he knew.

And yet, there was a stranger in his bed! Er, well the bed that he found himself in. He didn’t remember falling asleep in a room like this the night before.

The room was small, smaller than he remembered -- his friend Grace had a much bigger dorm than this and he remembered going to sleep cuddling her as usual.

The biggest problem in Juan’s mind, though, was the fact that he didn’t remember ever seeing the guy next to him at the party -- hell, he’s pretty sure he’s never even seen him at his college before!

As Juan pondered over his dilemma, the stranger woke up.

The first thing he noticed was his blue eyes. They stared at each other for a few odd moments, and Juan let the stranger have a few moments to process what was going on.

“What the hell are you doing in my room? Who the hell even are you?”

At least he isn’t screaming and trying to force me out.

“I’ll start with the easiest question. I’m Juan Rodrigo. I… remember falling asleep in a completely different dorm room last night, so I don’t know why I’m here.”

The stranger hummed softly, processing the information. Juan let him be, content to just lay in silence until something new popped up.

Normally he would’ve left almost as soon as he woke up, but there was something about this small, personal room that was calming to him. It made him want to relax and never leave… though he knew that he probably would have to at some point.

“Do you sleepwalk?”

Juan blinked, “I don’t think so? No one has ever said I had before.”

The stranger hummed again, “Drugs, alcohol?”

“Not that I remember. It is possible that the punch was spiked by an asshole since the party was quite a large one.”

He nodded, “Have any headaches? Nausea?”

“Neither. Just woke up feeling refreshed possibly thirty minutes ago and was too busy processing everything to notice any symptoms.”

He nodded again, “Do you even know where you are?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Well, my name’s Fred Droger. We’re at Northwest Community College for Fine Arts.”

“At least we’re at the same college.”

“Oh? What are you majoring in?”

“Theater -- performing arts, I guess. You?”

“Music and screenwriting.”

“Cool, no wonder I’ve never seen you before. Though, isn’t there talk about a project the screenwriting class has to do? Something about making a play for the theater class to perform?”

“Yeah, something like that. We’ve actually started doing that, about two weeks in. Professor thinks that we’ll have to take up to another four weeks until we enter the critique stage, which is when we’ll have to pick a theater kid to give our work to.”

Juan blinked, that was the most Fred had said since they had met, though he couldn’t blame the poor guy. He had just woken up to find a stranger in his bed, who didn’t even remember how they got in his bed in the first place!

“May I ask about the theme of your project so far or is it a secret?”

“It isn’t a secret. We’re allowed to ask you theater kids for help during the development stage. Mine is going by a little slowly, though. I’m stuck for some reason.”

“Can I take a look? I might not be the best at critiquing written work, but I know the basics, at least.”

Fred thought the offer over for a few minutes.

“Sure,” he conceded. “I’ll go grab it for you.”

“You handwrite it?”

“It’s sometimes easier for me to do a basic plot by writing it, then I type it up for editing,” Fred explained as he slowly sat up, stretching tired muscles.

#creative writing #writing prompt #My writing #short story #unfinished short story #this is probably bad but I'm still gonna post it #please don't be too mean

[pbelfz]

Two to One | 5 |

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader x Midoriya Chapter Title: Katsuki Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 Story Masterlist Summary: You are a simple college girl working at a cheap, back alley café! The top heroes, Deku and Ground Zero, visit your work in hopes of ordering coffee, but they pick something else up instead. You begin an interesting relationship with the pair, while slowly becoming aware of certain underhanded tactics they are using. Idolization isn't always that bad... Right?

Izuku invited (Y/n) over for dinner at least once a week since then. Katsuki never opposed the idea, and, surprising Izuku, started making a third plate before (Y/n) even responded to the invite.

Most visits flowed naturally, like she was a part of this small, growing family of two heroes and their admirer. (Y/n)’s apprehension often seemed misplaced, and it fell off of her in layers with each visit. They’d ask each other about their days, sometimes laughing about a villain encounter while dining on an exquisite yet simple meal cooked by Katsuki. Katsuki would usually critique Izuku on an encounter he witnessed to which Izuku dutifully noted for next time. Izuku cooked occasionally when Katsuki was too exhausted to even look at the kitchen, and while the food was good, it was never as good as Katsuki’s. (Y/n) wouldn’t dare tell him that. The domesticity of it all made her feel older than she actually was.

Katsuki usually was the one to walk her home afterwards. It gave them time to get to know one another, Izuku would say. Though, Katsuki still wouldn’t talk much on the trip back, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as they cut through the backroads to (Y/n)’s apartment. She didn’t mind, still finding Katsuki to be much more intimidating than his partner. Holding a conversation with him proved to be rather difficult; what exactly did he like? Explosions, and what else? Food? Neither of them attempted to talk to the other, really.

Other nights, though, the table was much quieter than normal. (Y/n) never really noticed how large of a house they owned until no voices filled the empty space. Both Izuku and Katsuki picked at their food, each of them shooting glances at the other when he’s not looking. (Y/n) didn’t feel like she should’ve been invited if this was the atmosphere she’d walk into. Sometimes, she felt as if they invited her intending to placate the room (how often did that work, really?). She’d glance between the two men, waiting for someone to say anything. Maybe it’d be best for her to be the one to start the conversation tonight.

“How was–?”

“This meat isn’t cooked properly, Deku,” Katsuki suddenly muttered without lifting his gaze, his chopsticks carefully flitting through his stir fry. (Y/n) paused, and she looked at Izuku, who was eating silently.

Izuku blinked, hiding the roll of his eyes as he swallowed the vegetables he was chewing. “You don’t have to eat it,” he retorted, not even looking at his boyfriend. Katsuki’s face twisted slightly, now giving Izuku just a hint of a glare.

(Y/n)’s always been bad at this: playing the game of “the elephant in the room”. Sometimes, things are easier if she lets them sit. It’s never that simple, though.

“Is something wrong?” (Y/n) asked.

“No,” they bit at the same time, each giving her a quick and mean side-glance before returning to scowling down at their plates. (Y/n) closed her mouth, a little shocked at how insistent they both were. After a few moments, Izuku sighed, dropping his chopsticks down on his plate. He stood, picking up his food.

“I’m eating in the living room,” is all he said before leaving (Y/n) alone with Katsuki.

Katsuki shook his head, his chopsticks still toying with his food before he became restless himself. He left the table soon after and trudged to the front door.

“I’ll just take you home, then,” he mumbled to (Y/n), misplaced hostility in his tone. His eyes were on Izuku, whose feet were propped on the coffee table while he lounged on the couch. Katsuki stepped into a pair of his shoes, and Izuku pretended to not see them, but (Y/n) could see he was watching out of the corner of his eye.

Katsuki found his voice when he walked (Y/n) home on these nights – the nights where he and Izuku acted like they either didn’t know each other or at least didn’t want to. (Y/n) may even look forward to the stiff dinners because she knows Katsuki will be more likely to talk to her afterwards.

It wasn’t until they left the city’s gated community when (Y/n) finally popped the question.

“What happened?”

Katsuki shook his head, scoffing. “Doesn’t fucking matter,” he replied, a little louder than necessary, and (Y/n) didn’t push anymore. His voice was always too loud for her, and she didn’t feel like escalating it. Katsuki already seems to be the type that doesn’t need much of a reason to blow, so (Y/n)’s walking on eggshells as it is.

They continued in silence for a few more steps until he spoke once more.

“You, uh,” he sighed, eyes searching the sidewalk in front of him. “You make us better, you know.” It’s a quiet confession, but still some form of an admission. Being recognized by Ground Zero… It made (Y/n)’s gut tighten.

She turned her head to look up at him, but he’s avoiding her gaze. The medical mask and beanie he wore hid most of his features except his eyes in the dark, but those crimson irises darted down to meet hers, and when they briefly made eye contact, they both felt the heat spread throughout their skin. Katsuki looked away rather quickly, opting to stare forward as they continued walking.

“I do?” (Y/n) pondered, recalling the events of every other unpleasant dinner they’ve had, similar to tonight. Katsuki didn’t reply, seeming to have his fill of indulging in her self-esteem for the night.

“Thought you didn’t want a ‘quirkless runt’ in your relationship with Deku,” (Y/n) nipped quietly, not letting the conversation fade out. Vindictive, she held that comment against him. Katsuki said nothing at first, and (Y/n) looked up at him, awaiting his supposed rebuttal.

He licked his bottom lip underneath the mask, looking for the proper words to redeem himself.

“It was just a bad night.”

That was the best apology she could get from Katsuki Bakugou. He looked like he wanted to say something else but decided against it. (Y/n) had the nerve to scoff a little as she turned to look at the dark street they walked beside. It was hard to believe the bustling city nightlife was just on the other side of the buildings. It seemed so empty here, two blocks over.

“Just like tonight?” (Y/n) wondered, mostly to no one, lost in thought. Katsuki rolled his eyes, but she didn’t see. He didn’t answer her.

Being around him felt different from Izuku. Izuku held a conversation decent enough, but with Katsuki, it was like (Y/n) had to force the words out of him. Is Ground Zero shy? No, there’s no way. She’s seen the way he acts in battle and in interviews, especially with Shoto. He’s more than comfortable with himself around people.

“Katsuki,” (Y/n) spoke softly, and hearing his name almost made the hero pause. He hid it well, though. It was the first time she addressed him in such a way; he assumed Deku encouraged a first-name basis already.

“I know you said you don’t hate me, but,” (Y/n) took a moment to gather her thoughts, trying to subdue the intimidation of speaking to the Number Two Hero, “Do you want me in your relationship?”

Katsuki’s face steeled underneath his mask as he stared forward. How many times would she reframe the same question? He sighed a heavy breath through his nose, eventually prepping himself to address her concerns.

“Just because Deku is ready for you to fuckin’ move in at the drop of a hat doesn’t mean I am.”

(Y/n) gawked up at him, shocked that he actually answered. His brow creased, and he glanced at the sidewalk beneath his feet, debating within himself.

“’Wanted to take things slower,” he murmured, barely audible.

(Y/n) insides warmed at the comment. Katsuki glanced at her before she could reply, and he scoffed.

“Stop fuckin’ looking at me like that. Your mouth looks gross.”

(Y/n) closed her jaw; she didn’t realize she was literally gaping up at him. She wanted to ask him to elaborate, but Katsuki halted, turning to look down at her.

“I–uh–?” She stammered. Katsuki tutted, taking his hand out of his hoodie pocket and vaguely gesturing behind her.

“We’re at your apartment?” He stated plainly. (Y/n) whipped around, taking in the sight of her building. She didn’t even notice.

“Right…”

Katsuki stood there for a moment, feeling slightly out of place in the campus district. It wasn’t until (Y/n) wished him goodnight that he finally recalled what he planned on doing.

“Wait,” he called, and (Y/n) turned around, her building key still in the lock. “Give me your phone,” came the bark of an instruction. (Y/n) almost jolted, staring back at him as he still stood on the sidewalk a few paces away. He looked so creepy with the shine of the streetlight above him, especially with his beanie and mask. (Y/n) hoped nobody thought she was getting mugged…

“Uh,” (Y/n) shoved her hand in her tote, rummaging for her smartphone. She pulled it out, only for Katsuki to snatch it from her hands. When did he–?!

“Hey, wait–?!” (Y/n) yelped, but Katsuki stilled, staring at her lockscreen.

“Half-n-Half?” He sneered. (Y/n) gazed up at him, still processing what happened. ‘Half-n-Half’? Shoto?

Katsuki gave her phone back to her. “Put my number in.”

(Y/n) unlocked her phone silently without looking up at him. She was a little upset at him for disrespecting her things. If he wanted to give her his number, he could’ve just said so from the beginning.

As Katsuki told her his number, he watched her fingers move across the screen, inputting each digit.

“You that bastard’s number one fan or somethin’?” He uttered, turning his head to look off towards the vines that grew up the side of the apartment building. (Y/n) pocketed her phone.

“Would that upset you?” (Y/n) tested. Katsuki made a face, though only the scrunch in his eyebrows was visible because of his mask. He turned on his heel, plodding back down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets.

“Goodnight!” (Y/n) shouted, waving him off.

“Fuck off,” he yelled without even looking back.

(07:33) (Y/n) : Hey, this is (Y/n).

Katsuki didn’t answer. Okay, okay. An introductory text doesn’t necessarily require a reply.

(08:01) (Y/n) : Thank you for walking me home, as usual. :)

(Y/n) sat the phone down next to her on the desk, unable to peel her eyes away from it. The glow of her laptop screen seemed much less interesting compared to the glow of her phone’s screen, and yet there was so little activity on it. She couldn’t help herself. She sent another text.

(08:16) (Y/n) : What are you and Izuku doing tonight?

Okay, was that a little much? Maybe that was a little much. She shouldn’t have sent a third text. She should apologize for texting so much, that was definitely uncalled for.

They’re heroes. They’re heroes. They don’t have time to sit by their phone like she does–!

Ping.

(Y/n) damn near jumped for it.

(08:17) Deku : (Y/n), thank you for having dinner with us tonight. I’m sorry if it was uncomfortable for you again.

Izuku!

Her fingers moved methodically on the screen, but she slowed when she realized just how eager she seemed. Keep it cool, keep it cool…

(08:18) (Y/n) : It’s okay, I still enjoyed the food!

Izuku began typing almost immediately.

(08:18) Deku: Can I call you? Kacchan and I just wanted to… Talk to you about something.

(Y/n) instantly felt as if she was in trouble. She went over everything she and Katsuki spoke about; maybe it’s the Shoto lockscreen?

(08:19) (Y/n) : sure

She stared at her phone, anticipation coming out in the way her fingertips fiddled with the ends of her hair.

Deku is calling…

F-facetime…?! He should’ve just said ‘facetime,’ not ‘call’!

(Y/n) quickly looked herself over in the mirror that sat on her desk, fixing any stray hairs and adjusting her nightshirt; everything was such a blur as she made herself presentable. She inwardly groaned before staring down at the phone once more. There was no way she would’ve ever agreed to this, which was probably why he didn’t specify.

She answered after the fifth or sixth ring, after propping the phone up in a more flattering angle. Izuku, of course, was casual, and not even looking at the camera. He was shirtless, though (perhaps he’d just showered?), and sitting on the edge of a bed. She got a glimpse of a rather large scar on his right arm before the camera moved with Izuku changing his position.

“Hey!” His face instantly brightened upon seeing (Y/n). With the new angle, she could see that Katsuki was lying on the other side of the bed, sprawled out and shirtless as well. Was he already asleep?

“What are you up to?” Izuku asked quietly, a sleepy smile plastered on his face. (Y/n) swooned over the attention. She shrugged, glancing briefly at her laptop.

“Catching up on some assignments. I have work tomorrow, so I won’t be able to do any homework then.”

Izuku nodded, eyes staring down at the screen as he took in every detail of her.

“What did you want to talk about?” Thankfully, Izuku’s voice held no malice in it; however, (Y/n) wanted to get it over with, whatever it was. If Izuku was just numbing the pain before lighting a fire, then she wanted it done, and fast.

“Umm,” Izuku peered over his shoulder, looking at Katsuki. Katsuki, who was apparently more awake than he seemed, stretched out his arms and groaned. “We wanted to know if you’d like to sleepover one night?”

Izuku watched the screen, gauging her reaction. (Y/n) stared with wide-eyes, almost in disbelief. Izuku felt the need to clarify.

“Not–! Not like that–! I mean, just–! You know, just to get a feel of… Everyone together…”

This calmed (Y/n) slightly; however, something else rang in her mind.

“How does Katsuki really feel about this?” She asked silently. Her voice was so quiet, she doubted Izuku even heard her, especially through the static of the videocall. But he did. She really worked up the nerve in that split second to question the Number One Hero; he didn’t know how to feel about that.

Izuku turned his body to face his boyfriend. (Y/n) heard him mumble something, but she couldn’t make out what. Katsuki’s face was no longer in the frame.

“’S fine as long as I still get my eight hours,” Katsuki voiced, loud enough for (Y/n) to hear.

Izuku looked back at the screen once more. (Y/n) was satisfied enough with that answer.

#katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki x reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #bakudeku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #mha #bnha #tto #bakugou x reader x midoriya

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

Cas wishes that he could say he was frustrated by Dean Winchester’s presence, but that would be a complete and utter fabrication.

The thing is, he probably should be annoyed that this random civil engineering major found his way into an upper-level creative writing class, because everyone else is. Behind Dean’s back, they grumble about him “taking spots from other students” and writing pieces that are “too coarse and experimental.” 

But that’s the sort of thing that makes Cas like him, that makes Cas feel lucky that Dean chose to sit next to him on the first day of class, chose to nudge Cas with one of his work boots and ask in a low whisper, “Did you also forget to bring a pen?”

Since that day, while the other students shun Dean, Cas has become, he hopes, Dean’s friend. They work on assignments together outside of class, meet up at the library at least once a week. Cas learns things like: Dean’s minoring in creative writing, that’s why he’s in this class. Yes, his engineering friends make fun of him for it. He likes to work on cars and has a part-time job at an auto shop (cars are why he likes engineering). Dean likes cowboy movies but also sci-fi (which is why, he claims, Star Wars is perfect. Cas has never seen  the movies so he doesn’t really have an opinion). Dean likes to bake--he’s probably the only college student Cas has met who talks about owning a stand mixer.

At the current moment, Dean’s up in front of their class, reading something he wrote. Cas should be taking notes, because they’re supposed to critique their classmates’ work, but he’s having a lot of trouble paying attention to the words Dean’s saying and not Dean himself. He’s transfixed by the movement of Dean’s mouth as he shapes the words, by the change in his voice’s cadence as he switches characters in the piece. 

When Dean sits back down next to Cas, the spell is broken, and Cas realizes he wrote nothing down. He quickly scribbles good movement and pacing before moving on to the next student, who’s already shuffling their papers together at the podium. 

Dean steals Cas’s notebook and writes in his sideways scrawl in the margin seriously? no problems? 

They’ve been doing this since the second week of class, when one of the students read a piece they wrote about milk as a metaphor for sadness--this writing is making me sad, Dean had written, angling his paper towards Cas, and then Cas had drawn a truly horrible milk carton underneath it, and Dean nearly had to stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing. From then on, they always passed notes. 

i wasn’t paying attention so i just decided it was good, Cas writes back. 

ouch. 

not like that. Cas sighs as he writes. you said something about lemons, right? 

lemon squares that my mom used to make. Dean pauses writing but doesn’t put down his pen, as if he’s considering something. i could show you how to to make them sometime. if you want. 

There’s clapping, and Cas realized he didn’t take notes for this person, either. He nudges Dean to shelve the conversation so that neither of them fail their critiques. 

It’s still hard to pay attention, though. Sure, they’ve hung out, but it’s always been on campus--in the quad by the fountain, in the library behind the archives, in the union’s food court, talking about Isaac Asimov between bites of fast food lo mein. 

Somehow this feels different. 

Finally, class is over, and everyone starts packing up and chattering. Dean doesn’t say anything at first as he shoves his notebook into his backpack, but then he glances over at Cas. “You don’t have to say yes,” Dean says. “It was just an idea.” His cheeks are red.

“No, I’d like to,” Cas replies in a rush before he loses the nerve. 

“Great. Friday?”

“Friday?” Cas squints at Dean. “Don’t people go to parties?”

Dean shrugs. “We could watch a movie, too. Since society failed you and you haven’t seen A New Hope.”

“You seem to have an ulterior motive,” Cas jokes.

“Oh, I do.” Dean swings his backpack on. “I’m hoping you decide that you like me.” 

(Cas does like him, and on Friday he lets Dean know. They end up rewatching A New Hope.)

#b&acw #I don't want to talk about how long it took me to find the ampersand #because I do love ampersands I had just convinced myself it's on the 3 when it's on the 8 #amazing #anyways I went with AUs #obviously <3 #offbeatwrites #can't forget my *own* writing tag #Local Writer Cannot Do A Thing But College AUs <3 #writer and engineer dean my beloved

[thornedrose44]

Prompt: “I can’t do this. Just leave me alone.”

Read on AO3

"Goodnight, Kara." Lena said from across the room when she finally managed to catch Kara's eye.

It was the first time they had made eye contact since Kara had welcomed her inside at the start of the night. Kara startled at the sudden sight of Lena, waving farewell as she stepped quietly towards the door, but made no move to follow after her and when the door swung quietly shut behind her Lena knew things would never be the same.

It was Kara's birthday party (her Earth birthday party to those that happened to be in the know, which to Lena's un-surprise was a rather considerable group all things considered). Kara had invited her, further proof of the strength of their newly reaffirmed friendship. Lena had been grateful for the invite, appreciating it as the sign that they were back on the right track, and accepted it without hesitation.

She had then proceeded to spend hours upon hours thinking of the perfect gift for Kara, excitement and anticipation building in her stomach.

It would be her first proper night out in months after being thrown back into her role as CEO and dealing with all the negative press following Lex’s downfall and upcoming conviction. Her working hours had reached an excess that she had never achieved before. The blowback onto her in the form of hatred for the Luthors was even greater than last time as well, despite her crucial role in taking Lex down. She was still deemed guilty by association especially since she had been working closely with Lex for a long time before revelations about his villainy became apparent.

The news were critiquing her every move, slandering her every chance they got and rallying the masses to a fervour - she was now facing at least one assassination attempt every week.

Regardless of all that, Lena had one salvation, one light of hope that she clung onto. Her friendship with Kara. It was growing again. They were spending time together. Relearning one another or learning about each for the first time in Lena's case. The conversation was finally less stilted and the trust was back.

But there was still something missing, something stopping them from returning to exactly where they were before.

Lena, as the months ticked by, realised that they were no longer as physically close as they once were. Hugs were rare. Gentle touches of the hands were swiftly snatched back to prevent lingering. Even extended eye contact was fleeting.

Lena at first thought the problem was that she had hurt Kara so badly that the woman who sometimes communicated solely through physical affection no longer wanted to be touched by Lena. That broke something in Lena. That Kara, even though she was trying to be kind, friendly and forgiving to Lena, was not comfortable with any sort of physical contact between them, drove Lena into a drunken stupor of college-level proportions.

Once the alcohol was out of her system and she had suitably recovered from her hangover, Lena had allowed the scientist within her to take over.

No more assumptions.

She would gather evidence, make an hypothesis and work towards a solution.

If she wanted Kara back in her life properly - cuddles on the sofa and lengthy hugs a necessity of that - Lena would put the effort in.

So she observed… and what she observed was this…

Pink cheeks and bashful expressions whenever their gazes met.

A thick swallow and faltering breath whenever their hands brushed.

Deep sighs and fingers digging fleetingly into her back as if on the edge of pulling her closer whenever they embraced.

Dark eyes and teeth biting into a bottom lip whenever Lena stretched or moved her hair away from her neck.

Attraction, affection and interest .

Lena didn’t believe the results of her evidence; she re-ran the tests over and over again trying to work out if she had just interacted with Kara on an odd day, if she just happened to be thinking about something (someone) else at the same time but… it kept happening over and over again.

If it had been anyone else, Lena wouldn’t have doubted what she was seeing but… but.. This was Kara.

Kara, who she had been in love with since she had walked into her office with her cousin.

Kara, who had never picked up on or reacted to her flirts.

Kara, who had broken her heart with lies.

Kara, who meant so much to her.

Kara, who she had only just gotten back.

Was it worth the risk?

Fear had blinded her, of that she had no doubt, but was it keeping her safe from the hurtful truth of Kara not wanting to touch her anymore or from the potential happiness that Kara returned her feelings but was too sweet or shy to put herself in a position that would make Lena uncomfortable.

Lena decided to take a chance - just this once because even if she was wrong about Kara not feeling the same, she had to believe that Kara was incapable of being cruel to her if she misread it. They promised each other honesty and Lena intended to show it.

It was why she needed to buy the perfect present, something that hinted that Kara’s feelings (if Lena was right) were returned. And just a week before the party, she knew exactly what the perfect present would be.

She wrapped it personally (normally Jess would wrap any gifts she had to send out), wanting to go the extra mile. It wasn’t perfectly done, a bit messy in places and the sellotape was excessive but she had done it herself which she knew Kara would appreciate more than professional gift wrapping.

Lena, however, realised that she had made a mistake the second she arrived at Kara's.

Knew she had misread… everything …

Because Kara… Kara couldn't stand to be near her for longer than it took to say hello, accept the present and then disappear off.

Lena hadn’t expected to be with Kara for all of the party; it was Kara's party and loads of her friends were in attendance, all of whom wanted to spend it with Kara. Who wouldn't?

It's just… Lena…

Lena didn't have anyone else.

It was made abundantly clear to Lena within the first thirty seconds that she was not welcome. Alex gave her a gruff nod from across the room before turning her back to her - she still didn't trust her and Lena had prioritised winning Kara back over the last few months above everything else. Brainy and Nia smiled at her but they were deep in conversation with CatCo employees all of whom were practically snarling at Lena (clearly not Luthor fans). James was here as well and dear God did he give her such a blazing look of hatred Lena was surprised she didn't burst into flames under its ferocity. (They hadn’t dated in this rewritten universe, much to Lena’s pleasure, though his original dislike for her was clearly a mainstay of every universe).

So… Lena grabbed a drink and stood in the corner as Kara moved seamlessly between her various groups of friends and colleagues, never once sparing Lena even a glance. The majority of her movements were accompanied by William Dey, who repeatedly tried to sling an arm around Kara's shoulder - the only joy Lena got from the evening was watching Kara repeatedly squirm out from under his touch.

She held out for two hours, sipping three beers and glancing intermittently at her phone as she stayed in her corner, hoping that Kara would come over for just five minutes.

Five minutes with Kara wasn't too much to ask for, was it?

Five mere minutes with Kara would have made the whole night worth it, made the glares and malevolent whispers sent her way worth it.

It was at the two hour mark that Lena accepted the truth.

Kara wasn't going to come over to talk to her.

Kara hadn't been pulling away from her due to a sudden realisation of feelings and attraction.

Kara hadn't expected her to accept the invite. Hadn't wanted her to accept.

Kara was ashamed of her, that was why she pulled away, why she didn't acknowledge her.

Lena couldn't really blame her but that didn't mean she had to stay and take it. So gathering what was left of her dignity, she shuffled towards the door, caught Kara's eye, waved and slipped outside… though, not before retrieving the present she had brought for Kara… it would have revealed far too much and Lena didn't need to deal with that on top of everything else.

Lena returned to her office for no other reason that she still had some good liquor stored there - Kara had encouraged her a couple of months ago to cut back on her drinking and she couldn’t deny the baby blue puppy dog eyes. She staggered into her office, chucking the present she had spent hours creating onto the sofa - she would buy Kara some random meaningless gift like a nice scarf or jumper tomorrow instead - and poured herself a full tumbler before flipping open her laptop and getting to work. She lost herself in designs and business plans as she made her way through the bottle.

She used to sit and brood when she drank but Sam had made her promise she wouldn’t do that anymore, hazel eyes filled with concern at where Lena’s mind wandered when unoccupied and fuelled by alcohol. Whilst Lena was in a pretty bleak space, she refused to hurt her last (and only) friend by breaking the one promise she had made to her.

It must have been two am when Lena heard a familiar thud from the balcony followed by a gentle knock that could only belong to one person.

“Kara, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Lena called out, not bothering to lift her gaze away from her laptop screen - she wasn't sure whether the sight of Kara would evoke tears or fury and she wished to give Kara neither.

“Hey… I just wanted… I was…" Kara stammered out; Lena didn't need to see her to know that she was fidgeting with the edge of her cape as she tiptoed nervously closer. "You know… flying around and saw the light on and figured I would check in on you, see how you were doing…”

“I’m fine. Just working.” Lena replied brusquely taking a sip of her whiskey.

“And drinking…” Kara muttered, her tone more worried than disapproving but Lena took offense regardless.

“Yes. It’s a Saturday night, cut me some slack.” Lena snapped back, defiantly swallowing what was left in her glass before slamming it down onto her desk.

The loud clack as it connected with the surface was followed by a heavy, almost suffocating silence.

“You left early.” Kara whispered into the unnatural stillness, shattering the fraudulent focus Lena had on her computer screen with those three words. Kara didn't sound confused or upset, just painfully neutral as if to emotionally step back from the situation so that she could garner some emotional truth from the CEO instead.

Well, Lena was done with that, done with giving more of herself than Kara wanted so she took a deep, calming breath and allowed her painstakingly crafted mask to slip into place.

“I wasn’t the first to leave.” Lena pointed out calmly, finally turning to look at Kara, certain she could keep her voice and face blank. It was then that she saw how… small Kara looked, which was never a word Lena would have used to describe Kara in full Supergirl regalia in the entire time she had known her. Kara looked defeated and lost, a tremble to her lip and very being that she tried to hide behind a shy smile.

“Well… I didn’t get a chance to talk to you…” Kara replied, ducking her head meekly as she admitted. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Lena pursed her lips at that, “I was there for over two hours, Kara. You could have come over whenever you wanted. It wasn’t like I was occupied.”

“Yeah… what was that about?” Kara laughed, rubbing the back of her neck, trying far too hard to make her tone light as if even the idea of Lena being without company was an entirely absurd concept.

The high-pitch to Kara's laugh and the unfamiliar tension around her eyes revealed to Lena that Kara knew exactly why Lena had been standing all alone that evening.

“I’m a Luthor, Kara." Lena replied sharply, not interested in trying to smooth over the harsh truths like Kara was always so keen to do when it suited her. "No one wanted me there and they all made that very clear.”

“I wanted you there.” Kara replied so soft and earnest that Lena nearly believed her.

“I highly doubt that.” Lena scoffed derisively.

“I did.” Kara insisted, eyes desperate and pleading.

Lena merely shook her head, turning back to face her computer, “If you say so…”

“Lena, I-”

“Kara… I can’t…” Lena muttered, her voice cracking in the exact way she didn’t want it to. “I can’t do this. Just leave me alone.” Lena requested, hating how it verged on begging.

“What?” Kara murmured in shock.

“I can’t just… pretend that I’m not hurt or upset.” Lena confessed, fingers curling into fists on her desk, eyes slamming shut to lock in the tears. “I just need… time to get over it and accept what we are. So until then… please just leave me alone.”

“I hurt you.” Kara repeated, her voice broken and raw .

“Kara, I didn’t…” Lena shook her head angrily, she didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to inflict herself on Kara who had tried so hard to be her friend. “It's your birthday, Kara.” Lena sighed sadly, “You get to spend it anyway you like with whomever you like.”

“I wanted to spend it with you.” Kara breathed, and Lena could hear the sharp inhales between each word that revealed that Kara was crying.

“Kara, you don’t need to…” Lena assured, with a wave of her hand, eyes focused on her lap, “let’s just leave it, okay?”

“No…” Kara gasped, and suddenly Lena felt a trembling hand connect with her own tightly curled fists, “wait… what did you mean ‘get over it’ and ‘accept what we are’?”

Lena sucked in a sharp breath at the question, biting down harshly on her bottom lip.

“Lena?” Kara pressed.

“Fuck it, fine.” Lena snapped, yanking her hands away from Kara’s infinitely soft touch and shoving herself out of her chair before storming away from Kara, desperate for space. “I thought you liked me.”

“I do-” Kara began, taking a tentative step after her.

“No, Kara.” Lena yelled, spinning back to face Kara, with a twisted snarl of total self-loathing. “Liked me.” Lena stressed, before throwing her hands up into the air as it all just boiled out of her, “God, I sound like a teenager. I thought you liked me. I thought you were touching me less because you were attracted to me. But then… I go to your party and you don’t… it was like you were ashamed of me, I sat in that fucking corner for two hours as everyone wished - out loud, I should say - that I would go. I sat in that fucking corner in the hope that you would speak to me for five minutes. For just five minutes. Because that… that would have made it all worth it. But you could barely look at me. And I realised you didn’t - don’t - like me… you’re ashamed of me, but you’re too kind to abandon me. Too noble and generous but even you have your limits. Of course, you didn’t want to spend your birthday talking to me. Of course you didn’t.”

Lena wanted to punch a wall, wanted to down the rest of her whiskey, wanted to do literally anything than be here in this moment watching the horror-struck expression on Kara’s face grow and grow with every word, watch Kara’s body tremble and shake with each harsh sweeping gesture.

“Lena, no… you…” Kara sobbed, striding towards her with fingers twitching at her sides, “you have got the complete wrong end of the stick. Actually, you’re right but also really wrong. And…” Kara swiped aggressively at the tears rolling down her cheeks as she approached Lena, stopping when the raven-haired woman flinched at their sudden closeness. “I screwed up but-”

“No. You don’t need to do this.” Lena cut in, holding a hand up to stop Kara, wanting Kara to know that her guilt was unnecessary and that she could finally be free of Lena.

“Lena, I’m so-”

“You don’t need to apologise.” Lena insisted, taking a deep breath to rein back in her swirl of her emotions. She could do this. She could let Kara go. “You were trying to be kind but you shouldn’t… god, if I make you that miserable, that uncomfortable, you shouldn’t have to force yourself to interact with me.”

“LENA!” Kara bellowed, stamping her foot to the ground and lifting her chin to reveal a determined expression.

Lena blinked in shock at the sudden volume and intensity; falling obediently quiet.

Kara placed her hands on her hips, took a deep breath, looked Lena straight in the eye with earnest, beseeching blue and declared, “I want to kiss you right now because that would be the big sweeping action that would prove to you that I mean what I’m about to say next but… you’ve been drinking… heavily from the looks of things.” Kara shot a displeased pout at the nearly empty bottle of whiskey as if it was all the bottle’s fault for Lena’s current state of inebriation and not the youngest Luthor’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. Kara turned back to face a stunned Lena, with a fond smile, “And I really want our first kiss to be one you remember and one you can fully consent to. So, you’re just going to have to believe me… please, please believe me when I say… I��m in love with you and I fucked up massively tonight. Really, really fucked up.”

“You never swear.” Lena murmured quietly, and it probably wasn’t what she should have been focusing on but her brain was currently stuck like a record scratch unable to fully comprehend what Kara had just told her; and the swear was just the cherry on top of an entire sundae of confusing and out-of-the-blue revelations.

“Which shows how much I believe that I fucked up.” Kara replied with a helpless shrug.

“But-”

“You were the only person I wanted to spend my birthday with.” Kara confessed, “Well, Alex at some point as well. But you mostly. Alex planned the party and I couldn’t…” Kara huffed out a frustrated breath and rolled her eyes, “she did this whole thing and I didn’t want to turn around and say I didn’t want it. That all I really wanted was a quiet night watching films with you because…” Kara sighed, “because then she’d know… To make it more bearable I invited you but there were so many other people, and I will be honest… I don’t even like half of them. Alex, just invited everyone I was friends on facebook with which is not a good barometer of friendship.”

Lena cleared her throat, none of it making sense, “Then why-”

“Did I ignore you?” Kara guessed with a painful wince.

“Yeah…” Lena muttered, wrapping her arms protectively around herself.

“Because… because I knew, or at least I thought I knew, that you hadn’t noticed how I felt about you.” Kara explained inching just that little bit closer towards Lena, attempting to bring them within touching distance of one another. “And I knew it was only a miracle that you hadn’t until now because…” Kara smiled a lopsided, rueful and self-deprecating smile, “Lena, I am not subtle. Not at all. And I knew… I knew if I interacted with you at the party… everyone else would be able to tell in an instant how I felt.”

Lena exhaled slow and deep, arms tightening their hold around herself, “And you didn’t want them knowing you liked me?”

“Love. Not like.” Kara corrected, patient yet firm, “Love. And no, I didn’t.”

Lena nodded once in understanding, letting out a hollow laugh, “I get it. I wouldn’t want anyone to know I loved me either.”

“Lena… no… no… you…” Kara rushed to explain, finally stepping close enough to reach out and place her hands gently on Lena’s curled biceps. Lena couldn’t help how she instinctively shifted closer, wanting to increase contact with Kara after being denied it for so long. “I didn’t want anyone knowing before you.” Kara admitted.

And that… that snapped something back into place for Lena.

Made the doubts screaming inside her head quieten down just enough to think… maybe…

Because… it was being last that had broken them the first time. Being the only one not to know and now…

“I didn’t want Stacy, who used to cheat off me in exams in college to know how I felt about you before you did.” Kara said, thumbs moving back and forth against the bare skin of Lena’s arms causing a swathe of goosebumps to rise like a wave in the wake of Kara’s every touch. “They didn’t deserve that. They didn’t deserve…” Kara’s jaw clenched, eyes darkening as she studied Lena’s face, “I was trying to protect you from them. They said horrible things about you and you should know, the minute after you left, I kicked everyone who so much as looked at you funny out. It was just me, Nia, Brainy and Kelly left… Alex, as well, but we had a rather heated argument before she was allowed to stay.” Kara bowed her head in shame, “I should have kicked them all out immediately but-”

“Then they would have known.” Lena finished for her.

“I had this whole thing planned.” Kara breathed out, her hands gradually shifting away from Lena’s arms around to her back, surrounding Lena in a loose hold, Kara’s eyes flickering over Lena’s face and body rapidly searching for even the slightest sign that Lena was uncomfortable with their contact. “Once everyone left, I had set-up the roof with lights and cushions and… I was going to tell you how I felt. I just had to make it through the birthday party from hell and I was trying so hard to keep to the plan. To not spoil it. To keep it a secret so that it could just be ours but... I…” Kara’s eyes slid shut and she inhaled a shuddering breath filled with pain. “I hurt you. And there is nothing I can say to make you forgive me, but I do… I do love you so much. And I will never, ever be ashamed of you.” Kara blinked her eyes back open and leaned forward to place a kiss on Lena’s forehead. “I just wanted it to be ours and not theirs. I didn’t want to share. You’re the only thing in my life that… I didn’t want to share.”

“Open your present.” Lena demanded, stepping out of Kara’s loving embrace.

“Lena-” Kara whimpered, pained at the sudden loss of closeness.

“Open your present, Kara.” Lena repeated, jerking her chin towards the sofa where the roughly wrapped present lay.

“I… okay…” Kara replied, watching Lena closely as she tried to make sense of Lena’s clear request. Kara walked cautiously over to the couch, picking up the gift with gentle hands. “Did you wrap it yourself?” Kara asked, her entire expression brightening as she stared down at the crooked, over sellotaped wrapping.

Lena harrumphed at the question, pursing her lips.

“You did, didn’t you?” Kara teased.

“The present isn’t the piss poor wrapping.” Lena replied with an exaggerated roll of her eyes that had the corners of Kara’s lips quirking even further upwards.

“Lena Luthor wrapped my present herself…", Kara whistled in awe, blue eyes twinkling with true delight for the first time that day, "what better gift is there?”

“Open it and you might find one.” Lena said, heart leaping into her throat as Kara’s deft fingers found a line of wrapping paper she could tuck them under.

The sound of paper ripping was deafening in the stillness; all Lena could do was watch and wait.

The paper fell away leaving behind a small black box, Kara shot Lena a hesitant look and it wasn’t until Lena nodded for her to continue that Kara clicked it open.

There was a pause.

A heavy, endless pause in which Lena couldn’t bring herself to even breathe.

“What is-” Kara began before cutting off immediately as she lifted up the beautiful bracelet made of nth metal and inscribed with ‘stronger together’ in Lena’s own cursive handwriting in both english and kryptonian.

The bracelet shined under the lights in Lena’s office, but in Lena’s opinion, Kara’s eyes shined impossibly brighter.  

“You’re in love with me.” Kara whispered, seeing the present for everything Lena had hoped it would convey.

“Yes.” Lena confirmed because there was no hiding it now.

With trembling fingers Kara clasped the bracelet onto her wrist, long fingers tracing the words delicately inscribed with no small amount of wonder. Finally, she turned around and stared at Lena with so much sheer love that the youngest Luthor felt overwhelmed and like her heart might burst right out of her chest in its desire to be in Kara’s possession

Clearing her throat and clasping her hands behind her back, Lena gathered her courage and asked, “If I promise you I’ll remember it and that I am fully consenting… will you kiss me now?”

Kara was in front of her in the literal blink of the eye, hands reaching out to cup Lena’s cheeks as Lena’s hands moved to rest on Kara’s hips gently encouraging their bodies closer with a light tug.

“There is nothing I want more.” Kara assured with the widest grin that Lena had ever seen and couldn’t help but return.

Their first kiss could barely count as a kiss.

Their smiles were too wide to allow for it, but Lena wouldn’t change it even slightly. They pressed their smiles against one another, teeth knocking together and noses brushing.

It may not have been a successful kiss but it was tender and filled with so much joy that Lena wouldn’t describe it as anything less than perfect.  

Their second kiss was an actual kiss, lips slotting together, tongues seeking each other out and teeth tugging whimpers and moans from one another in an endless cycle.

Their second kiss turned into a third, a fourth, a fifth.

They kissed until the sun rose.

Kissed until their lips ached and any remaining doubts Lena may have had were pushed back into the shadows by the light of Kara’s smile and blue eyes.

#supercorp #supercorp fic

[basicallywhiterice]

countdown (na jaemin)

pairing: na jaemin x reader

genre: fluff. friends to lovers, college!au

summary: The three times you should have made a move, the two times you tried to, and the one time you didn’t need to.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: cussing

a/n: alternatively titled “haechan being both the best and worst wingman to grace the face of the earth”

i. Three times you should have made a move.

“Hey! Jaemin! Over here,” Haechan shouts, waving at a boy clad in an oversized flannel across the dining hall. He turns, lighting up when he waves back, and all but runs over from the dish drop-off section.

“He’s my roommate,” Haechan introduces once Jaemin is in earshot. “Jaemin, this is y/n. Y/n, Jaemin,” Haechan introduces.

He’s cute, you notice immediately, his floppy hair swept to the side messily. Almost as quickly, you dispel the thought and do your best not to stare, extending a hand for him to shake on instinct. “Nice to meet you, Jaemin. So you’re the roommate who keeps losing his AirPods?”

In the second your hand hangs there, empty, you have enough time to go through all five stages of grief. You blundered in front of Haechan’s unfairly attractive roommate you’ll no doubt see again, about his AirPods? You prepare to draw your hand back and smooth it over your hair to relieve the awkwardness of rejected handshake.

Then Jaemin shakes your hand, eyes crinkling up as he beams. If you thought he was cute before, you’re a goner once his smile is directed at you. “Nice to meet you too, y/n. And yeah, that’s me. Were you the one who convinced him to get me the glow-in-the-dark Among Us case? That was honestly the best housewarming gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Hey, that was all his idea. Besides convincing him to spend an extra dollar on the glow-in-the-dark, I played no part in it.”

“I’m sure. In any case, you have excellent taste. Thank you for picking it out.” He turns to converse with Haechan, but you don’t hear the rest of what he says over the sound of you putting your foot in your mouth.

As soon as he walks away, you collapse into a heap of regret on the table. “Why didn’t you tell me your new roommate was hot before we got the gag gift?” you groan. “God, how am I supposed to flirt with him after that?”

“You just met the guy, relax,” Haechan reassures, taking a bite out of his sandwich. “Stop overreacting,” he mumbles around a mouthful of his BLT.

You raise your head to glare at him for being your voice of reason, and he wiggles his eyebrows.

“You like him already, huh? Don’t worry, he actually thought the case was funny. You’re fine.”

You bury your face in your hands in lieu of responding.

Jaemin is in your Algorithms class, you come to learn, likes useless trinkets more than you do, and vehemently opposes your dislike of coffee.

“Just try it,” he coaxes when he orders his second americano in an hour. “Haechan likes it, and you trust him, right?”

“With my life,” you deadpan as you both glance across the library to observe his attempts to flirt with the junior making his Starbucks order. He drops his straw when he gestures with his right hand, and you both snicker when he bends down to pick it up. “Actually, I think I’ll pass.”

Jaemin shrugs, taking a short sip from his cup before wincing and fanning his tongue. “Maybe you’re right. Anyways, which block did you want me to read?”

You show him, making edits as he comments on your code, and thank him once the block is fixed.

“No problem,” he grins. “Let me know if anything else is confusing. I’m happy to help.”

Just as you open your mouth to start the ritual of asking for his number, Haechan interrupts. “I got their number,” he announces, setting his phone down firmly between you and Jaemin and holding out his hands for a high five.

You sigh and half-heartedly slap his right hand despite your annoyance. At least one of you can be lucky in love, even if it comes at the expense of the other person.

“What’s the most common fear you have?” you ask Jaemin, tracing the outline of a cloud against the pale blue sky with your finger.

“What do you mean?” he asks, turning to lie on his side. You drop your hand to rest on his beige blanket and meet his questioning glance.

“Like spiders, public speaking, dying single… what’re your fears that are common?”

He squints as a strong gust of wind blows his hair into his face. “I think you’re overexaggerating how common the intense fear of dying single is.”

“Why?” you ask, not entirely sure why you’re pressing him about this. “Are you not afraid of it?”

“Hm, I guess I’m a lot more scared of dying alone than dying single. What are your thoughts?”

A fleeting semblance of a pickup line involving the two of you and not being single surfaces in your brain, but it never reaches coherence. Instead, you respond, “Heights, probably.”

And rejection, you sadly add in your head. Definitely rejection.

ii. Two times you tried to make a move.

“Hey, did I spell this right?”

When you lean over to read Jaemin’s meticulously written flashcard, your knee bumps into his. He mumbles an apology but makes no move to shift his leg. You stay like that, reviewing your notes for your last midterm together, until Haechan opens the door to his dorm and you scoot to different places on the couch.

“Hey Jaemin!” Haechan calls when he’s halfway in the bathroom. “Don’t forget about the trash,” he reminds, closing the door.

“Oh shit, one sec!” Jaemin hollers back. You wince at the volume, and he sheepishly turns toward you. “Sorry. Gotta take out the trash once he’s done,” he gestures, hand sweeping outwards before he knocks a couch pillow over.

Before he can fix it, you blurt, “Take me out while you’re at it too,” without missing a beat.

He doesn’t have time to react before you start laughing it off awkwardly. You don’t want to—damn it, why can’t you just be direct—but the fear of rejection overrides your confidence.

“Funny, right? Because of how ‘take out’ has different meanings? I’m hilarious, I know.”

He stares at you for a second too long before letting out a delayed chuckle. Haechan spares you the awkwardness of hearing his reply when he exits the bathroom and sits down between both of you, though, and Jaemin leaves with the trash soon after.

“Nice save, Casanova,” Haechan grins as soon as Jaemin steps out, reclining back into the couch. His Cheshire-Cat-esque smirk only grows when you reach over to smack him with the knocked-over pillow. “Wanna get take out once he gets back?”

You throw the pillow in his face this time. “I’m never coming back here again.”

You find yourself waiting outside their dorm exactly twelve days later when your code won’t run after two hours of debugging and neither of them will answer your texts.

“Asshole,” you shoot at Haechan when he opens the door. “Please help me.”

“Tough luck. I’ve got a date tonight,” he says, smug.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped you pick a better outfit than that,” you critique, glancing at his plain button-up shirt.

“Chill, I haven’t layered anything yet. And Jaemin picked it out, so good luck convincing him to help you debug. And getting a date with him. Coward.”

“You say that like you didn’t interrupt us the first time I was trying to get his number,” you whisper.

“And you act like you would’ve met him without me.”

“Touché.”

“Who’s getting a date with me?” Jaemin calls from his desk, pushing up his glasses and frowning at his computer.

“Me,” you call back, and he glances up, eyes widening when he sees it’s you. Ignoring Haechan’s impressed “damn,” you walk over to the chair next to Jaemin. “I’ll help you debug if you help me?”

“You want me to—help you debug? No way,” he says, and for a moment, you regret your boldness. “How’d you know I was dying over coding too?” he continues, and your worries disappear.

“Just a hunch,” you shrug. Haechan leaves when the two of you are hunched over your laptops, elbows brushing gently enough to make it look like an accident.

iii. One time you didn’t need to make a move.

“Y/n?”

You look up, halting your check of Jaemin’s backpack to make sure he hasn’t forgotten his AirPods again. “Yeah?”

His ears are tinged with pink and he can’t quite meet your eyes, but he looks like he’s trying his best to do so anyways. “Would… you… like to go out with me on Thursday? Maybe for dinner if you have time?”

You blink, holding your breath for three seconds just in case you misheard or he’s joking. Neither seems to be the case. “On a date?”

“Yes.” He nods. “Yes, a date.” He fidgets with the hem of his shirt. You smile, and he stops.

Silently, you count down from three before answering to avoid blurting out your answer, but it comes out with the same level of enthusiasm nonetheless.

“I’d love to.”

#kwritersworldnet #NCT-WRITERS #neowritingsnet #nct #jaemin #nct scenarios #jaemin scenarios #nct imagines #jaemin imagines #nct oneshots #jaemin oneshots #nct drabbles #jaemin drabbles #nct jaemin #na jaemin #nct u #nct dream #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfiction #nct fluff #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct u scenarios #nct u imagines #nct scenario #nct imagine

[leo-gold-hotchner]

Unfortunate Reunion Party - pt 2

We Australians don’t use ‘prom’ instead, we use ‘formal’. Years ago, I was like, what’s a ‘prom’? And my sister said, an American version of formal. lol

I packed all my criminology and social science about teenager behaviours books, so I might be wrong in describing school bullying traumas. So, reasonable critiques are always welcome.

Aaron Hotchner X BAU Reader

Warning: Mention of school bullying, traumatised reader, an insinuation of bad teachers 

At least it wasn’t as loud as I expected. I skipped the prom that was held just before high school graduation. I literally ran away from my city to join the college life of learning criminology. Besides, music wasn’t the thing that was bothering me. Hotch was damn sexy with his slate coloured suit and his navy tie around his neck. It was his usual suit like he wore at the office, but he shone like a star among people. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, whatever the host was saying, it was going in my ear and out another. 

I was a loner back then, many probably forgot my face. People didn’t greet me, and neither did I. It was like a non-verbal pact between all of us. ‘You see nothing, you hear nothing, you tell nothing because no one can and will help you.’ That was my year mates' enforced shackle to survive the torturous school life. As long as you don’t report, the bullies were being ‘generous’ with their torture.

I saw several faces I could remember from my memories. Many of them changed, but I still could sense the darkness around their faces. Even if they smiled and talked, I could see the school memories were still haunting them as it did to me. Hotch thankfully didn’t ask, and I was grateful for that. I was just happy to see no school bullies. Even the host was not one of them. Maybe I thought wrong about the host wanting to humiliate people by asking partners. Perhaps they just assumed that all former students were in a relationship or sort. 

As my body absorbed alcohol, I felt like getting bold. It felt like I could stand and face my past with Hotch next to me. Even thinking about Hotch made me happy, and I could forget about the darkness around the party hall. I couldn’t help but erupt giggles and smiles as Hotch stood next to me so closely. I tried to hide, but from Hotch’s rolling eyes, he probably knew I was trying to conceal my emotion badly. 

“You know you can laugh, right?” Hotch sipped a cocktail. Despite how he tried to hide, I saw him wrinkle at the taste of the cocktail. He probably wanted to spit it out. 

“Yeah,” I replied with a chuckle. “You know you can just throw it out, right?” 

Hotch snorted and put down the glass on a tray. “No profiling outside.” 

“Funny, Hotchner,” I held up my glass. 

Before I could joke further, a voice I could never forget called my name from behind. Even after years of agent training and struggles with criminals, my body responded firstly. Goosebumps covered all over my arms, horrors chilled down my spine. My body stiffened, I turned like a wooden nutcracker to face the owner of the voice. I was horribly wrong about facing my past. I couldn’t. I was weak, I wasn’t strong enough to tackle the past. 

“Oh my god, aren’t you looking good?” Gloria Williams was one of the school bullies. She looked down upon everyone as if they were dirt on her heels. It was a very common day when someone gets stepped on their feet with her sharpened heels. I still had the stupid scars on my right foot. 

My breath started to get faster, my face covered in a cold sweat. My hand was trembling, and I couldn’t find my voice. It was Hotch’s hand on my back that calmed me down a little. 

At least I wasn’t hyperventilating. 

Yet. 

“I’m here with you, don’t worry.” He whispered in my ear, circling his hand on my back. “I’ll protect you.” How could he be so gentle when he just saw me in this state? 

“Aren’t you going to say ‘hello’, F/N?” Williams gave me a sweet smile, but her green orbs were mocking me. 

I never thought she knew my name, dammit. That made me scared more than ever. I faced criminals with guns and sharpened tools, even fought against invisible viruses and terrorists, but they were nothing compared to this current fear. Something was dragging me into a dark, dark hole, drowning me in fear. My heart was about to burst out, it was telling me to get out, but my brain wasn’t listening to it. 

“Hey.” That was all I could manage. The memories I wanted to keep inside were crawling out from a memory bottle. 

“Now, where did you get such a fine man?” She skimmed Hotch as if she had found an exciting prey. A prey she wanted to toy with, a toy she wanted to steal from another. 

Unconsciously, I grabbed Hotch’s hand. “He's my boyfriend,” I mumbled meekly. 

Where was that loud voice whenever I confronted sick bastards? I was trapped; my high school memories engulfed me mercilessly. I felt like I was back to that torturous life, returned to that dull nervous student who tried to avoid the bullies’ radar every day. 

“Aww, you’ve grown up, haven’t you?” Her voice was the same as I remembered. High pitched, like a screeching sound when something had gone from a broken aircon. Her slim figure was the same as I remembered, but I could see wrinkles on her aged face where even surgeries couldn’t hide. 

She was not the powerful girl I remembered; she was just a woman I could easily overpower. But even though my brain was working logically, my body wasn’t. 

“I don’t think F/N’s in a mood for a conversation, ma’am.” Ever the polite man, Aaron Hotchner. But I knew him. I knew that voice. Do-not-cross-me voice. He really was protecting me, and that was all I needed. Someone who could back me up, support me. Someone who could believe in me, not throwing me into a dump with predators like teachers did. 

I saw Williams casually take a step back. Even if she tried to cover her startle with a light act, I could see she was surprised at how strong and authoritative Hotch’s voice was. Yes, that was the man I loved. 

The man I could think of as my man for only one night. 

Another voice called Williams, and I nearly puked. Before that voice reached me, I violently put down the glass of wine and dashed out. It was wrong of me to attend. I still couldn’t face them. I still couldn’t face the past. 

I heard Hotch calling my name, but I paid no heed. I ran, pushing people aside and ran outside of the building. As soon as I crouched among bushes, I finally threw everything I had for dinner. My nostrils flared up at the sour smell, but it was okay. I just had to get away. The smell woke me up, drawing me out from the sea of memories. 

Someone crouched next to me and handed me a hanky. I didn’t want him to see me like this. It was a mistake to ask him to be my partner. He must have thought I was weak as hell, running away from my peers. 

“Running away is not weak.” He saw right through me. Hell, he probably knew what happened in my high school days. 

“What happened to ‘no profiling outside’?” I attempted to joke, but it came out seriously with my weak voice. “Sorry, you had to witness that.” 

Hotch only shrugged. “Everyone has something to fear. You don’t have to apologise, you haven’t done anything wrong.” He stood up and held his hand out. “Come, let’s go back to the hotel. You need to rest.” 

“They’re gonna make fun of me,” I pouted as I grabbed his hand to support myself. 

“So what?” Hotch helped me balance and gave me a bottle of water. “You’re strong, F/N. You’re the strongest person I’ve met, don’t forget that.” He suddenly gave me a smile which brightened my mood. “Besides, you could always ask Garcia what they’re up to.” 

“That’s power abusing.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at his insinuation. Who said Hotch didn’t have a sense of humour? 

“I was thinking about SNS. What were you thinking, L/N?” He joked and laughed a little. 

 He looked much younger when he was laughing. I wished he could laugh more, smile more. And moreover, I wanted him to laugh next to me, wished the reason he laughed was me. I trusted him, but at the same, it scared me. What if Hotch betrays me? That’d be the end of the world. 

“You really are a caring person, aren’t you, Hotch?” I tried to take a step forward. Just a little step where I won’t get hurt. Just disguised as a friendship between colleagues. Just to tell him I appreciate him. 

“I heard many things, but caring was not one of them,” Hotch smirked. “Drill sergeant, no fun, too serious,” he counted with his fingers. 

He looked relatively free tonight. Like seeing me in this state may be freed him from his own shackles a bit. At least, that was how I wanted to think. 

“Anyway, let’s go. You smell.” He chuckled and held his arm. 

“I never expected you to talk like a schoolboy, Mr Hotchner.” 

“Believe it or not, I once was a schoolboy.” 

And that was when I realised Hotch knew how I felt about running away.

@a-dorkier-book-keeper @kajjaka

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #unfortunate reunion party series #bau reader #gender neutral reader #Agent Hotchner

[cheolbooluvr]

the secret garden

part of the confession series

pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader

genre: fluff, college!au

word count: 2.4k (these are no longer drabbles LMFAO)

warnings: none

a/n: lowkey am sorry for making wonwoo a bookworm bc i know that's so common, but i tried to add a bit more to it? idk, regardless, i hope you enjoy this and plz leave feedback if you'd like! always appreciated, thanks for reading <3

my masterlist ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

｡☆✼★ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ★✼☆｡

“I feel like I’m going to tell [them] directly and honestly”

Wonwoo kind of hated you. Not you, but just how oblivious you could be sometimes, if not most of the time. It had been over a year since the two of you met in your advanced literature seminar and you were drawn to the way Wonwoo described the world around him. He could make even the most mundane of things into a beautiful string of words that flowed effortlessly one after the other. He had a special charm for making people fall in love with the little things in life, and it was especially hard for people not to fall in love with him.

But this wasn’t about him, this was about you and how you made him feel. You had approached him by the school garden after class one day asking if he had free time and wanted to talk about one of your assignments. He was already feeling pretty shy from the slew of compliments you gave him during the critique in class earlier, but he gladly accepted your invitation. Neither of you expected to spend the rest of your afternoon into the early evening talking about your favorite books and poets. By the time both of you had to head back to your dorms, you had exchanged numbers and it was him who suggested you “do this more often.” It would be a lie to say that he didn’t give you butterflies, but given everything you had heard about him not having dated anyone despite his popularity, you figured he just wasn’t interested in pursuing relationships.

And it was true, he wasn’t interested in anyone. At least not until he met you. Throughout your friendship, however, he found it incredibly easy to talk to you and open up about things he hadn’t even told his friends prior to you. You spent your days in bookstores reading and trying to find the best and worst stories. It was nice that you could just exist together in the same space, but somehow that filled a void in his heart he never knew existed, and you could easily say the same. At some point, he decided to start dropping hints. The works he recommended you were all about falling in love, talking about the sweet yet mortifying feeling of holding those feelings, yet you just thought he was a hopeless romantic. It was strongly engraved in your brain that Wonwoo simply wasn’t interested in dating and you had pushed any thoughts like that to the back of your mind for a long time.

But every once in a while, you wondered what it would be like if the two of you could be something more. Would you even be compatible? Did he even like you that way? You would shake those thoughts away as soon as they came to you, but recently, those thoughts became harder to fight off the more you spent time with him.

In the days leading up to your birthday, Wonwoo told you he had a surprise planned. This made you nervous because if you were being honest, as close as you two were, sometimes it was hard to read him. He wasn’t nearly open as the books you two often read. It could either go horribly or really well knowing him, but you didn’t have much of a say in the matter. “Just trust me,” he told you when you tried to pry for details. You took a sip of your iced mango green tea as he continued to read his book, a smirk forming on his lips. It made you hate how mischievous he could be sometimes, but there was nothing you could do to really change that, and maybe you liked it. Maybe you loved it. Maybe you loved him.

Your birthday fortunately fell on a Saturday, and being blessed to be a late spring baby, it was warm out. So far, the odds fell in your favor, but that didn’t do much to quell the nervousness building in your stomach. The night before, Wonwoo told you that you’d be going on a scavenger hunt and that was it. He also told you to dress kind of nice, but not too nice. Your phone dinged as you got ready to leave. Are you ready for your first hint? the text read. You replied yes, and he sent you a picture of camellias. You instantly knew where this was and you headed out from your dorm.

When you arrived at the school garden, you took a selfie to show him that you had arrived. When he saw your picture on his phone, his heart skipped a beat and he suddenly grew nervous as he waited for you to find him. Your next hint goes like this: A necessity to some, a treasure to many, I’m best enjoyed among pleasant company. Some like me hot, some like me cold. Some prefer mild, some like me bold. What am I?

It took you a minute before you figured out that he was referring to coffee, and if it was about coffee, then the next place he wanted you to go was to the cafe you two frequented. You took a selfie again, but this time, he told you to go inside and talk to Seokmin, the barista turned friend after he saw you two almost every day.

When you walked in, he greeted you with his signature grin. “Happy birthday!”

“Thank you!” you replied with a warm smile. You weren’t sure what Wonwoo wanted you to say to Seokmin, but you figured you might as well order “Can I get—”

“An iced mango green tea and an iced americano?” Seokmin grinned even wider. Despite that being what you and Wonwoo usually ordered, it still surprised you. “I got you covered,” he added, making sure to wink at you, too. He pulled the two drinks from behind the counter and pushed in your direction.

“Thanks, Seokmin,” you said, taking the drinks. You moved to pull out your wallet, but he reached over the counter and touched your arm gently.

“I told you, I got you covered,” he laughed.

“Are you sure?”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you Wonwoo actually already ordered and paid?” You felt your cheeks warm up, hoping he wouldn’t notice you blush at the mention of Wonwoo’s name. “Happy birthday again! Have fun on the rest of the scavenger hunt!”

You thanked him one more time and left. While you were talking to Seokmin, Wonwoo had already texted you your third hint. You set the drinks down on the table outside and read his message: What building on campus has the most stories? Your initial thought was the business building, so you made your way there. When you sent Wonwoo your selfie, he responded with a short and swift, nope. You sent him another selfie where you frowned and threatened to dump his drink in the planter next to you. He let out a low chuckle and told you to think about it some more.

“The most stories… most stories…” you mumbled to yourself. It then dawned on you that Wonwoo would never be so obvious as to ask you to find the building with the most floors, but the most stories. As in books. Because that was your common link. You almost sprinted at the rate you were going towards the library. When you arrived, you sent him yet another selfie and all he sent you was “😁👍.” He was probably inside at one of the tables, or so you thought. Except for a couple of students, the library was relatively empty and Wonwoo was nowhere to be seen. You wandered the aisles, hoping maybe he would have his head buried in a book as per usual. As you peeked in each aisle, he wasn’t there. “Wonwoo,” you whispered. No response. So, you texted him, where r u???

He responded, Fiction,G-I, so you headed to the fiction section where the G-I authors were. Your phone pinged with another message from him. PZ7 B934 Se 1962, the text read. You knew that was the number of a book, so you began to peruse the numerous spines to find the book he gave you. Finally, your finger landed on the exact one and you read the title, The Secret Garden. You quietly laughed to yourself at how clever he was. You put the book back, and in your excitement, you forgot to text him. Because of this, he thought it was taking you a while to find the book and he wondered if you couldn’t find it, or maybe someone had coincidentally checked the book out before you came. But that couldn’t be it, because he made sure to check it was there before you started your hunt.

“Found you!” you said, startling him. You laughed at how cute he was when he was caught off guard. He was wearing a simple beige button-down tee with khakis, and though the outfit was simple, you couldn’t help but admire how good he looked. The shirt fit his broad shoulders perfectly and wrapped around his now buff arms. He had been working out a lot recently, and it definitely showed.

“I was beginning to think something went wrong,” he laughed back, pushing his wireframes up his nose.

“What’s all this?” you asked, pointing to the table in the middle of the library garden. It was nicknamed the “Secret Garden” because it was tucked away just behind the library and students seldom found it. However, you and Wonwoo happened to stumble upon it one day when you couldn’t find a place to study in the library. Since then, you would come out here to study or read when the weather permitted. Because it was spring, the fruit trees were just beginning to blossom which were beautiful to look at, but your allergies hated it. You sneezed and a concerned look overcame Wonwoo’s face, but he chucked when you muttered, “Damn allergies.”

“Happy birthday,” he said, his face lighting up as he motioned to the table behind him. He grabbed his drink from you and led you to sit down. On the table were a couple of scones, muffins and sandwiches. “I wasn’t really sure what you liked, so I guessed.”

Whatever feelings you had tried to suppress before had risen to the surface of your heart. After all, how could you not maybe feel a little something after your friend went through all of this just for you?

The two of you began eating, but the longer he waited, the longer Wonwoo grew anxious. “So,” he began. You were in the middle of biting into a blueberry scone when you looked up at him. “Did you get the hints?”

“Well, duh,” you replied with your mouth full. He couldn’t help but laugh and be thankful at how comfortable you could be around him. “I made it here, didn’t I?”

“But you didn’t get my hints, did you?” he pressed further.

“I clearly did, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” You were beginning to feel a little annoyed, thinking he was questioning your intelligence.

“No, not those hints.”

Now you were confused and your expression showed that. “What do you mean?”

Wonwoo took a deep breath in and a deep breath out, rocking back and forth as he wiped his clammy palms on his pant legs. “I figured as much,” he mumbled. “I guess I have to be more direct.”

“Direct? Direct about what?” It took a moment, but those suppressed feelings you had were at a raging boil now, and a million thoughts ran through your head. There was no way this was happening. Right?

“I have feelings for you,” he said calmly. “I’ve had feelings for you for a while, actually.” His sudden confession left you speechless as you nearly choked on your scone.

“Wonwoo…what—”

“Wait, let me finish before you say anything. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say before I forget.” You nodded, but your head began to spin as you tried to process his words. “Those hints I gave you today, they’re more than just hints. Each of those places were places where I fell for you. The school garden was where you first approached me and asked me to hang out.” It was then that you realized just how thoughtful and observant he was, and though he didn’t ever say much, Wonwoo was a man of many words. “Then there was the cafe where you and I would hang out almost everyday. It was there that I realized just how easy it was to talk to you and how much I enjoyed your company.”

The more he went on, the more you felt your chest tighten. You realized that you had forgotten to breathe at times, and so you tried to conspicuously maintain your breathing before you passed out.

He continued, “And finally, the Secret Garden. There wasn’t anything specific that you did here, but there was a day when we were just reading and I realized that I might be in love with you.” He paused, looking to you for some kind of reaction, but all your face showed was shock. He recalled that day when he glanced up from his book and you were nose deep in your own book. The sunlight hit you perfectly, outlining the edge of your face and engraving that image forever in his brain. “I know that this is probably a lot, but I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I had to be honest to you and to myself.”

Silence fell upon you. All that could be heard was the rustling of the wind through the trees and chirping birds. You two sat there as you tried to formulate the words to tell him how you felt. As time went on, Wonwoo worried that maybe he had just ruined a perfectly fine friendship, and that there was no way he could walk this back. But like he had told you, he had to be honest. The longer he kept it in, the worse he felt.

“Look,” he interrupted the silence. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to feel the same way or even have an answer for me right now. I just needed to get this off my—”

You stood up and leaned over the table, grabbing him by the collar. You pulled him in close before landing your lips on his. Pulling away, you leaned your forehead and grinned widely. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

#cheolbooluvr writes #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenarios #seventeen au #seventeen fanfic #seventeen #svt #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #svt imagine #svt scenarios #svt fanfic #svt au #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo au #wonwoo au #wonwoo fic #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen wonwoo #svt wonwoo #wonwoo x reader

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

↝ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ: having them crash your date

↝ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: aomine x f!reader

↝ ᴡᴄ: 1500+ 

↝ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: wanting to kill aomine for being aomine, being an ass during a date, kissing, using someone to make another jealous. 

↝ ᴀ/ɴ: first time writing for aomine... hope it’s alright LMAO this is a college au btw. 

The restaurant selected for your date was rated four out of five stars on the internet. It was classified as fine dining and proclaimed to be the ideal location to celebrate a special occasion or to impress a potential client. What the numerous websites did not state was that it attracted a certain type of crowd – those who did not care for the ridiculous prices attached to their small portions. 

When the hostess guided you and your date to your reserved table, the customers you slipped on past raised an eyebrow at you, easily detecting the one person who did not belong. Instead of cowering under their targeted stares, you fixed a smile onto your mouth, ignoring the crawling sensation spreading throughout your arms.

You would survive this one date – you had to. It was your fault for arguing with that idiot, and for accepting an invitation solely to further piss Daiki off. The thought of that insufferable male prompted a hallow melody to dance up your throat, though you were quick to swallow the sound.

How dare he call you undesirable? Coming from someone who lacked any notable characteristics, that was rich. An idiot. Aomine Daiki was a complete idiot.

But who was the bigger idiot here? You or him? He wasn’t the one who was on a date with someone who was probably cheating on their wife, and he wasn’t the one caught in a traditional game of unrequited love.

“Have you found something you like?” The blonde male did not bother to secure eye contact, instead his icy irises scanned the menu ahead of him. “Shall I call the waitress over?”

“I did, thank you.” There was no point in maintaining a polite smile, particularly when your date would be unaware of its existence, yet it remained plastered on your visage. They say that if you smile during uncomfortable moments, it can trick the brain into thinking you are truly happy. And if that did not work, you could always employ your secret weapon – the flask of vodka in your jacket pocket. Under the influence of alcohol, even someone as bland as your date could become interesting, or at least bearable.

“Perfect.” Bringing the booklet to a close, he gestured the waitress over with a short wave. The fluidity of the motion had you questioning how many times he had brought someone here, was this his special spot?

Or were your perceptions merely a product of your imagination?

The following thirty minutes made you realize it was the latter. There was nothing interesting about the wealthy man sat ahead of you. And you almost felt guilty accepting his invite, since he was quite serious about finding a future wife.

“As I was saying…”

Accidentally tuning out the latest story he was narrating, your attention drifted across the establishment. It was at this point that you caught visual of a pair that did not appear to belong, just like you.

Astonishment morphed into disgust when your eyes locked with his – the damn reason you were here.

“Hiii, y/n-chan!” The pink haired girl sang out the greeting, bouncing towards your table with Daiki trailing behind. Those seated around you grunted in irritation at the disturbance, but your date wore a blank expression. Though, from the twitch of his eyebrows, you assumed he was at least mildly interested in those preparing to approach him. “How funny! We were just passing by when we saw you from the windows!”

The deceitful answer was coated with a sugary tone and accompanied by a wide-eyed expression. The deadly combination seemed to have satisfied the man sat ahead of you. In fact, he seemed far too smitten with Momoi to notice the large male standing behind her. But you on the other hand, could not remove your attention from Aomine – not for a single second. Everything about the athlete had your emotions flaring.

How could he stand there so casually?

No longer entertained by the deadly glaring match you engaged him in, Aomine took in his surroundings with a quick scan of the space. It was as if he was evaluating your decision, and most likely critiquing it mentally. 

The last thing you needed was his judgement.

“Are these friends of yours?” The question implanted a wedge into your concentration, guiding your gaze back to the blonde.

Did you accidentally tune him and Momoi out? From the matching expressions painted on the pair ahead of you, it seemed you did.

“Yeah, kinda.” The qualifier was a lackluster attempt to capture the blue haired male’s attention. Surprisingly, it worked. Aomine had shot you a lazy grin in return.

“Then you are welcome to join us.”

The invitation came far too swiftly for you to successfully curtail it. Further, neither Aomine nor Momoi missed a beat, claiming the empty chairs without hesitation. When the athlete settled onto the chair beside you, he inched it closer to yours, before stretching out his spine. The sloppiness of his movements was in stark contrast with the elegant mannerisms of his best friend.

“Thank you so much!” A bright smile was flashed to display her gratitude, whereas Aomine offered an unenthusiastic “thanks.” The blonde simply nodded to acknowledge their words. But it was quite clear that so long as Momoi was present, he would bypass any other distractions. Including the large male who was practically pressed against your side.  

Typical.

Once the pair officially joined your date, the atmosphere loosened considerably. However, the change was restricted to your table. For a moment you soaked in the change with a titter threatening to spill from your lips. Watching Momoi cast a spell on the one who was once set out to woo you was amusing to say the least.

“That’s your type?” The male beside you adjusted himself after vocalizing the question. And whether he was stretching his neck or tilting his head inquisitively was unknown, but the movement brought him dangerously close to you.

Flickering your gaze to the minimal space between his head and your shoulder, you cursed yourself internally for the fluttering sensation inside of your stomach.

“So, what if it is?” A small “hmph” was tactically added to your response.

“Never pictured you being into an old rich guy. Does he know you hate places like these?” The basketball player remained slouched in his seat for a few more seconds before settling into a comfortable position. 

Was he serious right now? 

“Shut up and keep your voice down.” The demands were whispered in a stern tone, but you doubted it would work. 

Unsurprisingly, he returned your hiss with short-lived laughter.

From the opposite side of the table, your date’s attention briefly returned to you – a natural reaction to the vigorous sound. He was seconds from becoming more aware of the scenario unfolding around him, but Momoi was prompt in eliminating his concentration.

“Oh, tell me what I should get!” A menu was then placed before him, to remove you from his line of sight. The artificial behaviour did not catch you off guard, you knew the two of them were scheming – a fact confirmed by the startled expression she exchanged with Aomine prior to opening the menu.

“I don’t know what you’re up to but stop it.” Exhaling a sigh, you propped an elbow onto the table before resting your cheek against your palm. 

But did you really want them to stop? Not really. This was the most enjoyment you had since you arrived. Not that you would let him know that.

“What we’re up to?” He echoed with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What about you? What are you doing here, y/n? Are you here to prove you’re desirable?”

His words visibly stunned you at first.  

Aomine knew exactly how to push your buttons, and his style of teasing was ridiculously potent. To refrain from acting on your urge to attack him physically, you curled your fingers in and grinded your teeth together.

“Aomine. You ass-”

Your lips were about to complete the curse when he connected his mouth with yours. It did not require much to close the distance due to the limited spacing that existed in the first place. Inside of your chest a parade had commenced, one that matched the metaphorical fireworks that accompanied the kiss. 

You knew it was wrong. Your date was sat right ahead of you, albeit hidden behind the remarkably large menu. Yet, you enjoyed it. 

When you instinctively tried to push away, he placed a hand at the back of your neck, keeping you in place. With each passing second your resolve melted until it no longer remained. A minute felt like an eternity, and when Aomine settled back in his seat, a flustered groan vibrated inside of your throat.

“Oi. Satsuki. Let’s go. I want a burger.” After tending to the crick in his neck, the athlete raised from the chair, purposefully ignoring the bewildered expression being presented up at him.

On cue, Momoi slapped the menu shut and stood up. “Okay! So sorry for disturbing you two. We’ll be on our way now.”

Your narrowed gaze slowly travelled from Aomine to the pink haired girl, who dipped an eyelid into a wink at you.

What the hell.

You could barely comprehend what occurred and watching them leave only increased your bemusement. Across the table, your date questioned if you were alright. Pressing your palms against your face, you shook your head with another groan. 

No, you were not alright. 

You were in love with the Aomine Daiki, the biggest idiot to exist. 

Which meant you... would never be “alright.” 

Taglist: @newfriendjen @yourstarvic @bloody-bella @seijurosempress​ @haikyuusimp91 @chaichai-the-weeb [only tagging those who I know watch KnB lmao] 

#aomine x you #aomine x reader #aomine x y/n #aomine scenario #knb x reader